There's no denying what time of year it is...the lights, the sounds, the smells, the overall commotion, and of course the stress.

With the passing of Thanksgiving, our psyche switches into high gear with the constant inundation of reminders that there's only so many days left to get that special gift for that precious someone.  While being the most wonderful time of the year, I'm thinking that hidden under the menagerie of 50% off signs, and the offer of free shipping, now and forever, the true meaning of what we're celebrating has been overshadowed by the promise of discounted materail gain.  While hustling from mall to mall, and trying to avoid the deafening toll of so many thousands of ringing bells, have we grown so distant of what we were actually meant to celebrate?

Briefly removing the religious aspect, and yes I know for some that's just totally blasphemous, the holidays were meant more for celebrating our families, and the great fortune for being able to live in such a wonderful country.  Just think how pleasant it would be if we could live here and totally eliminate the government...my goodness, we might actually be able to re-cultivate that extinct commodity..."Disposable income!"

If not for the media, I would not be as aware as I am just how important, Black Friday, Local Saturday, and Cyber Monday have become to my financial survival.  Whoever fabricated those three myths should be taken out and forced to drink a gallon of leftover turkey gravy!  Or better yet, be forced to wear a five pound fruitcake around their neck for the entire holidy season, while listening to a monthlong stream of Alvin and the Chipmunks on a three year old I-pod...

I make it a point to avoid holiday parties.  It's not that I don't enjoy seeing everyone and being jolly, but my pants have a nasty habit of shrinking behind my back without me over indulging on foods and drinks I normally would never eat otherwise.

The shopping experience at the mall is pure sensory overload.  How many versions of "Jingle Bell" rock should we be forced to endure, and how did they get all those dogs to bark out "Jingle Bells" anyway?  Tinsel, mistletoe, glittering balls suspended from everything that OSHA approves, and the infinitesmal collage of sweatpant wearing, and warmup suited shoppers, just leaves this shopper humbled. Point me to the exit closet to Starbucks, or Dunkin Donuts...whichever is less crowded.

Honking horns, crying snotty children, ashen faced spouses not speaking, half eaten candy canes stuck to my shoes (actually this is good for traction on sidewalks that have convienently been left unshoveled), and Ho-Ho-Ho echoeing inside my head, will all take it's toll before a mummified Dick Clark ushers in an entirely new and better year.  And then....it's over...almost!

January's tactics are to keep the driveway shoveled so I am able to sneak up on the mail box, hoping if I approach it slowly, and casually enough, the credit card bill will never arrive.  Perhaps through devine intervention, my name and number have been deleted from the list of a bazillion debters, never to be found again.  Unfortunately, it will arrive right underneath the oil bill, cell phone, cable, car payment, tuition statement, and most importantly, the Town tax bill!  Oh January, thou art a cruel mistress!!!

Actually, at this stage of my life, I view the holidays and what follows as a cleansing experience.  The previous year allows us to be stoopid, and make mistakes, and since it now is being jettisoned into history, doesn't really matter anyway.  Now it's time to step back and say "Whew...I won't ever do that again!"  And yes we all know that's until the next time...

Maybe I'm just bitter because I haven't gotten around to shopping just yet, or because as my children are grown, I don't get to go to any Holiday pageants, in an over crowded, chilly, sticky grammer school cafeteria...gotta love em.

Seeing everything on tv dressed as Santa from cheeseburgers, to snowtires, has a tendency to take the edge off of my enthusiasm.  And this year in particular, I was rooting for Charlie Brown to finally wisen up after about 35 years, and buy a real tree rather than be hustled again by one of those shrewd street venders.

I will get out to shop, and I will persevere.  It will make me stronger.  If I could afford to buy my wife a diamond to have it say "I love you", I would.  Instead a new pair of fleece slippers will have to make the same proclamation, or maybe I'll break tradition and just tell her myself...we'll see what she gives me, then I'll decide.

For now, the only present I really, really want is that we as a human race step back, and realize that all this good feeling, and generous humanity does not have to be confined to just this time of year.  String it out...make the holidays last all year.  Go back to basics try to remember the real reason for the holidays. And if you are unfortunate enough to catch a glimpse of "Snookie" being lowered by a ten ton crane from some building in Manhatten on New Year's Eve, count your blessings that you can change the channel, there's always next year, and you don't live in New Jersey!

"Yours in not so silent night"  George

P.S.  After the holidays we will be working on the website, and I'm not certain that Horse Sense will be returning.  After writing a monthly column for 8 years, it has gotten to be quite difficult to maintain the humor and sincerety of my articles, and I was never one to disappoint.  I plan on doing a lot of riding and a lot of thinking, and we'll see what the year brings.  I have always been humbled, and flattered by the dedicated following of those that read what I have to say, and I hope I have given you all pause to think about what's really important in life.  Stay warm, stay healthy, and tell some one you love exactly that...Good night!