I live in a cave I guess. If it weren’t for newsfeeds from various social media platforms, I might not yet know who shot JR (I only know because someone on Instagram took a picture of the food on the late Larry Hagman’s plate after the episode was filmed). I think I could’ve lived without knowing that it’s Starbucks’ turn to declare war on Christmas, and here I am lacking ammunition, reindeer and creamer.
True confession time: I’m not a fan of Starbucks’ coffee (a little too bitter for me) but that’s why I love America-you can have your coffee any way you wish, or NOT have it at all. And Reverend Feuerstein (which is Firestone auf Deutsch for those curious and/or not (and was Fred's last name when The Flintstones were on German TV), I’m not all that convinced that candy canes were part of the original Nativity. But I will defer to your superior knowledge of the Operator’s Manual (New Testament edition, I’m sure).
I’m running out of patience when encountering the unrelenting humorlessness of the easily offended. And no amount of chirpy chippiness and snarky remarks will change that. Focus, people, focus! Not sure how many homeless and sick we have from sea to shining sea, your Reverendship, but maybe you can harness some of your outrage (mis) directed at Starbucks and help those millions whose plight should truly spark the genuine article. I realize it does take more power to be a light than to be a horn, that’s probably why my nickname is ‘Buzz.’ You, too?
Instead, I get treated to Jesus and the Java Jive, the ideal name for any self-respecting Warring on Christmas Seattle grunge band. And guess what they’d be drinking backstage? Nope. Guess again. Please.