“I could feel the Christmas Noose beginning to tighten.”

Those are the words of Ralphie Parker, the fictional character in a movie that you will likely see at least parts of this December, and probably for the rest of your life’s Decembers as it is played in a marathon on TNT and TBS. I probably don’t even need to tell you the name: A Christmas Story.

The film is based on the writings of Jean Shepherd, a writer and radio personality who has been lost to time for some. He was highly influential as a New York radio personality; with the pranks he used to play on-air as an inspiration for Howard Stern, the stories of his Midwest childhood an influence on Garrison Keillor, and his offbeat sense of humor an influence on David Letterman. Finally, “I’m Lester the Nightfly” that opens the title track on Donald Fagen’s wonderful solo album The Nightfly is a direct reference to his show.

But back to his most famous work, A Christmas Story. It’s all about family, and an odd one at that. At the holidays, when the family is often the weirdest. You might be able to relate. My theory is there are about 7,000 normal people on the planet, and the rest is family. Where you and I fall in this grouping, well, I imagine that is largely subjective.

It’s high paradise and glory time to be a nutjob, what with the likely Republican presidential nominee seemingly not just distanced from reality but openly contemptuous of it. On top of this, many of our DC media types dish out neverending demands that the sane people (such as Democrats) kowtow to the madness. The crazy has never been so encouraged and supported as it is now, and that can mean a real danger of your holiday gatherings devolving into a situation where grandma is crying out “C’mon, please, everyone, it’s Christmas!” in a desperate attempt to deflate an argument.

Our nation is no longer fighting over things like whether a war is justified or if corporations should receive even more tax cuts and have graduated onto things like, well, democracy. This is not great for family gatherings. Your nutty Great Uncle Fred may even support shooting you or throwing your libturd ass into a camp. So…how do you avoid an all-out screamfest over the Christmas roast?

Here’s a few tips:

• Avoid controversial subjects, like Trump, democracy, and the right for certain types of people to exist. Because that’s where we’re at right now!
• Yes, Aunt Teri is an anti-vaxxer, and has crazy ideas, and your grandma is nodding along to keep the peace, but try not to explode. If you explode, you will make a big mess with all the flying viscera, so please, try not to explode.
• Remember, holiday dinners are like football and hockey penalties. The ref (the host) will ignore the initial cheap shot but drop a penalty (telling you to be quiet) if you retaliate. The shitty right-wingers have the advantage here, unfortunately.
• Bath in the sacred and holy glory that you are right.
• Going into a guest bedroom and screaming into a pillow is very therapeutic. From what I hear.
• Whatever you do, don’t mention why your cousin isn’t there (if your cousin was one of the January 6 people who were convicted).
• Remember, you are on a different plane, so arguing with them likely won’t work very well and will only make you feel worse. And by different plane, I mean that you are living in reality and not some Steve Bannon-created deep-state hellscape.
• Change the subject to safer subjects, like how the only thing exactly alike in both the Bedford Falls and Potterville worlds in It’s a Wonderful Life is the grouchy tree-obsessed old guy who yells at Jimmy Stewart after he wrecks/doesn’t wreck his car. He’s pretty much the same dude. If we can’t join in shared truths as obvious as this, we really might be too far gone.

And if all else fails, just make sure A Christmas Story is on the television, and lock eyes on it. Focus on it like it’s a Red Ryder BB Gun display in a Midwest Department Store window in 1940, submersing yourself in the silliness of Ralphie and his Old Man. It might be your only hope.

The last word goes to Donald Fagen.