A Holiday Visit From Horatio

 

     Twas the day after Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was 

stirring, and none were expected.  But what to my wondering eyes should appear 

but my little thespian friend Horatio, wearing some quite dapper, holiday gear.

     As we exchanged greetings, I told him how fine I thought he looked in his 

Santa hat, and he thanked me and said that he wore it every year as a tribute to

one of his namesakes, his distant uncle Holiday, who once worked in Santa's

Workshop at the North Pole.  When I inquired about what kind of work his

uncle had been doing for Santa, he said that he believed the job was chief, candy 

taster, which Horatio considered very important, and I agreed with him.  Santa 

would have been scandalized, if he had given bad candy to all of the good, little 

boys and girls. 

     As I settled down to do a quick sketch of him, Horatio said that the primary 

reason for his visit, was to personally thank me for my original, greeting card, 

which he had found to be so appropriate to this particular year.  He said that he had

especially admired the way I had made reference to those last five lines of Ode 

To The West Wind, by Percy B. Shelley, in expressing my own hopes for the Spring 

and a much better New Year ahead, for all of us.   He said he particularly liked the 

way I had expanded the meaning of a harsh, winter chill, to refer to the four year

long, deep and wintry chill, of mendacity, and racism, which has been pouring

from the White House in an unrelenting, destructive stream.  He said that my 

words had helped to restore the true spirit of Christmas.

      I Thanked him for his compliment, and asked him if Shelley was his favorite 

poet.   He said that he liked many of the famous poets, including Shakespeare, 

of course, as well as the work of another of his own, distant relatives, William 

Wadsworth Shortfellow, who was known to have once written a wonderful, long, 

narrative poem of exploration and adventure.   When I said that I hadn't heard 

of that poem, he said that he was sorry to say, that the single manuscript of the 

poem had been lost before it was published.

     As I was finishing up my sketch, he asked me to please use my blog, to post 

my greeting card to everyone out there in our little kingdom of the animals, because

it might help give some glimmer of hope to those most in need of reassurance, 

that this plague too will pass.  And having said that, he gave me a nod and a wink, 

and placing a finger to the side of his nose, he hurried off.  And I heard him exclaim

as he drew out of sight,  "Happy new year to all, and to all a safe night!"

      No doubt he was in a hurry to spread more holiday cheer, and he had a lot 

of territory to cover  And I had the feeling, that he will be wearing his Santa hat 

for the full twelve days of Christmas, while he visits many of the confined and 

lonely neighbors in our troubled, little kingdom.  

                         As requested by Mr.Horatio H Hamster Esq.  -  five lines from

                         Ode To The West Wind, by Percy Bysshe Shelley - 1819

                                 Scatter as from an enextinguished hearth 

                                Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!

                                Be through my lips to unawakened Earth 

                                The trumpet of a prophecy!  Oh wind,

                                If winter comes, can Spring be far behind?   

 

   To everyone out there in our little kingdom of the animals, from my little friend Horatio 

and myself - 

                           Wishing you a safe holiday season,

                           Finding greater hope and faith of Spring,

                          With bright sparks of beauty and truth,

                          After this past quadrennial chill of Winter.

                         And wishing you a fresh wind of warmth

                         And promise, to fulfill the prophecy 

                        Of an awakened land, with good health

                       And love for all, throughout the New Year.

                                                                 Eugene P. McNerney

 

     

A Year In The Red Zone, and - The Imperial Poinsettia

 

                                        The Imperial Poinsettia, an original acrylic painting on canvas

                                        20" X 24", unframed

                                                          ( click on image to enlarge )

     Last December, in this blog, I posted a photo of another of my poinsettia paintings, 

which I called Symbols of Christmas.  This December, it seemed symbolic, in a number

of ways, to bookend this disastrous year, with another poinsettia painting.  In that blog 

entry, at the end of last year, I was expressing the hope that the new year would turn out 

to be a much better one for all of us, than the three preceding years had been.   But 

unfortunately, as we all know, things went from bad to worse. The year began with a 

pandemic, which has been growing and spreading with intensity ever since.  Day by day, 

the map of our nation has turned evermore red, in state after state, as the infection rate 

increases and the death toll rises.  We have gone from hundreds dying each day, to 

thousands dying each day, and our hospitals and healthcare workers are overwhelmed.  

     In the meantime, what kind of leadership have we been getting during this crisis?  

Right from the beginning, our president deliberately downplayed the significantly fatal 

nature of the coming plague, claiming that it was no worse than the flu and that it would 

soon fade away, even though he knew that was not true.  He then proceeded to 

encourage everyone to avoid taking the necessary precautions, to help prevent the 

spread of the disease, and he has continued to promote that irresponsible behavior.   

Just like Nero, the Roman emperor, he has been fiddling ( or golfing ) while Rome burns.     

     So , where does that leave us, now that the new year approaches?   Our position is

much like that of the miniature copy of the Borghese, ancient Roman gladiator, in my 

painting, whose sword and shield are broken, as he seems to be battling out from the 

overarching, red menace of the poinsettia.  Our shields and masks are also worn and 

broken, but the new weaponry of inoculations is arriving like the mounted cavalry, and 

the sound of the trouper's, bugle call is music to our weary ears.   Let us all hope that 

the honest, leadership of the incoming administration, with a firm belief in the truth of 

science, will eradicate this plague, and truly make our nation great again. 

                                                                             Eugene P. McNerney