And who can blame them? I started watching this series when it debuted last year on Masterpiece on PBS. This is hardly surprising, really, given my love affair with Masterpiece. I had heard of it; I keep myself abreast of what’s going on in British television since it’s generally better than American. But because I knew my beloved Masterpiece was picking up the series I put off watching it until it aired here. Had I known I would become so completely absorbed I wouldn’t have been able to wait. As it was, when series two started airing on ITV in Great Britain I had to watch it early. I couldn’t help it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not watching it again every Sunday with my mother. Essentially, Downton Abbey is about an English manor home and the people who live and work there, both gentiles and servants, in the early part of the twentieth century. Downton Abbey belongs to the Crawley family; Earl of Grantham, his American wife [married when money became tight] and Countess, Cora, and their three daughters, Lady Mary, Lady Edith, and Lady Sybil. The story begins in 1912 with the new of the sinking of the RMS Titanic on April 15^th. On board were the heirs of the Earldom so feelers are thrown out to find the next in line, cousin Matthew Crawley, a lawyer. Matthew is brought to Downton, and given a cottage to live in for the time being, where he begins to learn a life of leisure, a jarring experience for a man with a profession.

Matthew Crawley

At the same time Lord Grantham’s new valet arrives at Downton Abbey, John Bates. The Earl and Bates were acquainted from the army, where Bates was wounded and acquired a limp. Bates’ arrival causes some upheaval with some of the staff taking an instant disliking and feeling resentful. But Bates and housemaid Anna soon find themselves falling in love in one of the cutest love stories ever.

Bates and Anna 

My mother is obsessed with Bates. So much so that when I got my US Weekly last week and showed her the article written about the show, specifically the women of the show, she was distressed to discover that, while there were pictures of both Lord Grantham and Matthew Crawley, there wasn’t a photo of Bates. Perhaps this is just more representation of class struggles. Maybe they just ran out of room.

I, on the other hand, have more of a soft spot for the gentiles. Always have. It’s likely that I always will. Their lives aren’t as fraught with trials and tribulations that come with being poor or being subserviant, it’s true. In fact, I can understand how viewers might find them slightly annoying given their predilections for lying around in chaise longues and bemoaning that there just isn’t anyone rich enough to marry. [Note to English teachers of my past: That is not literal, nor was it literal in Our Mutual Friend. These chaises are figurative.]But I am not one of these people. I love stories about old aristocracy. Especially in this time period, it’s likely Brideshead rubbing off on me, when the world was changing from antiquated to modern and an entire way of life was disappearing in front of them. That struggle between what always has been versus what is on it’s way.

Lady Mary Crawley 

Matthew and Lady Mary, for example. I love them. At the beginning of season one I found myself thinking Mary was… well, quite a pain the ass. She was entitled and obnoxious, a snob. But as time went on I found myself liking her more and more. She initially balks at the idea that she should marry Matthew. He has a profession, after all. But as time goes on they become friends, and then more than friends. And when a terrible mistake caused them to part I was sort of depressed about it. I couldn’t have even imagined what heartache season two would give me.

Lady Sybil Crawley (and her harem pants)

Lady Sybil is another favorite. Sybil’s the third Crawley daughter who sees their way of life as old fashioned. She’s interested in politics and being useful, even accompanying the chauffeur to a political rally in season one. And who can forget the night she came down to dinner in harem pants? In season two Sybil comes into her own. Wanting to be useful she asks the cook, Mrs. Patmore, to teach her how to cook and then enrolls in a course on nursing. As time goes on she realizes she can never go back to the way things were. And, of course, there’s Branson, said chauffeur, an upstart Irishman who’s modern sensibilities make him see himself equal to Sybil as a human being. He makes no bones about how he feels about her and tells her he’ll stay at Downton until she agrees to run away with him. Epic romance? Probably not. But they’re very, very cute together.

And none of that is even mentioning the costumes. Sigh.

Sybil, Mary, and Edith in their fabulous costumes 

And their ridiculously beautiful house.

The titular Downton Abbey. Highclere Castle in Hampshire is used for filming. 

I recently watched the film War Horse. I hadn’t really intended upon it because I am more than unusually sick of three things; Steven Spielberg, war movies, and animal movies. Considering this was guaranteed to be a trifecta I said I’d pass, even publicly made fun of it on Facebook. But then there I was with the ability to watch it and a spare Sunday afternoon. I am ashamed to admit that I loved it. It’s all too typical but that horse was just so damned personable. Not to mention his role virtually served to show the World War I [far more interesting of the two at this point in my life] experience from many different viewpoints sort of like that twenty dollar bill in 20 Bucks. All this may seem entirely besides the point, but I assure you there is one. Early on it becomes clear that fighting a modern war in antiquated ways is impossible. You know, when the English army charges in on calvary and discover they’re no match for German machine guns. You see? This is a metaphor for that entire time period.

This lesson is not missing from Downton Abbey. In fact, it could be argued to be the point. World War I is not missing from the series. At the end of the first season it’s clear we’re standing on the eve of war and by season two most of the men have already been shipped off to France. But Downton mostly focuses on what goes on back at home. With the hospitals overrun Downton Abbey is turned into a convalescent home for officers [more examples of class struggles here, of course, since officers tended to be from the more well to do sector]. Lady Sybil becomes a nurse and wonders if she can ever return to the way things were. Lady Edith does a lot of person growing when she sets herself in charge of non-medical comfort for the wounded men. The Countess is delighted to see herself in charge of something more important than setting a luncheon menu for the first time probably in her entire life. The scullery maid, Daisy, finds herself torn when a former fellow servant wants a promise of her hand before going off to war. And just to add a little extra something meddling former footman, Thomas, as put in charge of the convalescent home for the army. The point I’m trying to get at here is that the war touches everyone in some way, and not just because they have to get by with a little less due to rationing. It’s a whole new world and some fling themselves into it headfirst and others drag their feet, afraid of what the changes might mean.

There are two more episodes to air on PBS, Sundays at 9:00pm. But, PBS online streams episodes, as does Netflix. I can’t recommend it enough. Especially if you like costume dramas.  

While Gossip Girl has gotten particularly ridiculous in recent years when it first started out I was pretty impressed. Especially in its relation to its source material. The Gossip Girl books were pretty awful. I read them all. I couldn’t help it. I picked the first one up at camp, not realizing it was the beginning of a series, and couldn’t manage to stop because I cared just enough about the characters. But, all the characters were flat, lead blonde Serena, was too perfect to be real, and the boys were flat cutouts of what they could have been. It was okay, it was what you’d expect from a YA teen series. But, when the show started I was really impressed with what they did with the characters. Their basic stories stayed the same, but the characters grew and became people. It was good.

It’s not hard to see Gossip Girl as a modern day Gatsby. [I talked about this here.] What the story was denied, of course, is an ending. Oh, of course Gossip Girl will end someday (perhaps this season, no one seems quite sure of that) but after five seasons worth of twists and backstabbing it’s impossible for it to go out with any grace. And that’s okay, because one thing that Gossip Girl is fully aware of is what it is. And what is that?

Well, Gossip Girl is about a group of Upper East Siders in a Manhattan that I’m not fully convinced exists. They’re all pretty ridiculously rich and completely careless with their wealth because, basically, they’ve always been so. They think nothing of jetting off to Paris for the summer or destroying designer dresses because they feel like it. It’s the kind of wealth that’s popular in television shows so that viewers can live vicariously through them. Their lives are all chronicled by a mysterious blogger called Gossip Girl. People send “blasts” to the website, pictures and information regarding the goings on of the lead characters for the less privileged to follow. Sort of like a constant stream of Page Six. Gossip Girl serves as a sort of narrator for the series, voice overing the beginning and end of each episode with tidbits through in between. She’s also a constant thorn in the side of all the leads, as it makes it relatively impossible to have any secrets. And the information, as it’s often misconstrued, leads to the bulk of the plot lines.

And while I mentioned it had gotten ridiculous recently (the writers have apparently run out of ideas as to why Chuck and Blair can’t be together [really, why can't they? it's getting old] so they’ve brought God into it, yes GOD) there are several things that will never fail to make this show worth watching for me;

1) Chuck Bass’ outfits.

There’s really no other character that I have ever been aware of that persists quite so steadfastly in dressing like a complete dandy. There is, of course, his love affair with bow ties and pastels colors. And that’s not even mentioning the pocket squares. Now, a normal person would put on these outfits and look like a complete idiot, but somehow when a character continually uses the phrase “I’m Chuck Bass” as an excuse and explanation for pretty much any sort of behavior it somehow makes them entitled to wear whatever pieces of flamboyance they see fit.

2) Their hilarious habit of recreating classic movie scenes.

The girls of the show have a penchant for dreaming in classic movies. It’s sort of fun to watch. Obviously this comes from Blair’s obsession with Audrey Hepburn in the books (and to some extent in the television series) I wondered if they’d work this in and I think it’s cute when they do. Blair is always Audrey and so far she’s done Breakfast at Tiffany’s, My Fair Lady, and Roman Holiday. And in the 100th episode Serena joined the party by recreating Marilyn Monroe’s iconic role as Lorelei Lee in Gentleman Prefer Blondes.

Diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Or pearls as it may be.

3) The scheming.

Let’s be honest here, I wouldn’t like the show if I didn’t like the plots. And yes, I agree that they’re not as tight as they were in the beginning, they’re silly, contrived, and very unlikely to happen. But I don’t watch Gossip Girl for it’s realism, I watch it because it’s fun to watch. I watch a lot of TV and I find that sometimes I look at my list of DVRed shows and feel as though it’s a slight chore to watch some of them. Oh, not because I don’t like them; once they’re on I’m fully ensconced in the plot, but rather because I know, after a day of dealing with crap at HOE, they will require me to think. But on Tuesdays (when I invariably get to watch my Monday shows) I find myself all too willing to be entertained. And what’s more, I don’t see anything really wrong with that. On Gossip Girl someone is always scheming against someone else. Sometimes it’s frustrating. You know, when those two best friends have failed to even talk to each other before assuming the worst and planning a full scale attack? But most of the time it’s unabashed fun. Maybe I’m too old for this. Fact is, I really don’t care.

But then, on January 30th, at the end of Gossip Girl‘s one hundredth episode they finally told us the one thing I never really wanted to know; the identity of the titular character. I’m really not completely sure why the producers thought this was necessary. Like in the novels (if you can even really call them that) the role of Gossip Girl was really just that of figurehead, a narrator, a reason why this story is being told. And who is it? [AVERT YOUR EYES SHOULD YOU WISH NOT TO BE SPOILED] 

.

.

.

Georgina Sparks.

Yes, the grand master, troublesome, schemer who shows up at least once a year to fuck with our main characters has been revealed to be none other than the mysterious blogger who reports on the lives of New York’s elite. So far this character has shown up mysteriously bringing up Serena’s mistakes of the past, been involved in the drug overdose of a dude, gone to Bible camp, been banished, dated Dan, gotten pregnant and tried to convince Dan it was his baby, and gotten married and moved to Brooklyn.

Of course the internet immediately exploded. (Yes, I swear you guys there are people who actually care about these things.) Some people have decided that Georgina has taken over the Gossip Girl website, some people have decided she’s A Gossip Girl but not THE Gossip Girl. Some people are dismayed that Kristen Bell didn’t rock up at the end of the episode (she does the weekly voice overs for GG herself). But when I watched the… rather eventful episode (really, it involved a royal wedding, I’m not kidding) and the last twenty seconds rolled by revealing this bombshell I sat there going “What?!” then “Georgina?!” because I think this sucks. Gossip Girl, as a character, only worked when she was an unknown. A voice from afar. I LIKED her as a narrator. And, after all, when writing the books Cecily von Ziegesar never felt the need to reveal Gossip Girl, why does the show?

Gatsby’s Girl by Caroline Preston

(*** of five)

In a lot of ways I’m sort of ambivalent about this book.  I did quite enjoy the story; the youth and middle age of a debutante in the early twentieth century. But I’m not sure it benefited from it’s link to F. Scott Fitzgerald. The girl in question is Ginevra Perry. She’s beautiful, she’s rich, she’s popular and because she’s bored at her all girls boarding school she decides it would be quite pleasant to fall in love with that young writer from Princeton who she met on a frigid night in St. Paul and who writes very lovely letters. But since youth is fickle she throws him over most callously and marries a boring aviator, only to repeatedly find herself in the pages of her former flame’s popular novels. This is Ginevra’s story, through and through, and I enjoyed her growth as a character. What irked me slightly is that this could have easily been loosely based on the Scott Fitzgerald/Ginevra King story without going so far as to name the author and keep the first name of the girl. This is not particularly about Ginevra King, but more a conglomeration of the debutante and every character that it’s been rumored was based on her. The author of this book wrote the book she wanted to write (in evidence by her afterward), and it was compelling; Ginevra is a strong, likable character, despite her flaws, but it wasn’t entirely the book I wanted. I would recommended it, but not as proper historical fiction.

Rules of Civility by Amor Towles

(***** of five)

This book was, in a word, resplendent. I had never heard of this book when I unwrapped it on Christmas morning, but I’m lucky in the fact that my mother knows me very well. This is the story of the year 1938 in the life of a one Katherine (alternately Kate or Katey) Kontent. A chance meeting on the night of the new year propels her through a tumultuous year of ups and downs, hellos and goodbyes, and rags and riches. Katey’s a wonderfully realized character and all of the friends, lovers, and acquaintances who swan through her life leave lasting impressions, both on the narrator and the reader. I loved everything about this book. The dialogue was pitch perfect, the tone not to light and not to dark, and the scenery was like looking at lush black and white photographs of a time you wish you could have experienced. Like nostalgia for what you never had. I don’t often give out five stars, but this deserves it.

The Sign of Four by Arthur Conan Doyle

(**** of five)

The Sign of Four is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s second Sherlock Holmes story. Let’s just be clear here, I’m a big Holmes fan. It might have something to do with the fact that one of my great literary crushes is John Watson (see, here). Or maybe I just really enjoy stories about socially awkward people who do pretty impressive things. ‘The Sign of Four’ begins with Holmes lolling about, shooting up cocaine, in between cases and Watson trying his utmost not to say anything about it. Luckily, in walks Mary Morstan with a scintillating case. Her father disappeared ten years hence and now as of late she’s received a note saying she’s a wronged woman and a collection of fat pearls. She entreats Holmes to discover the mystery, which involves a one legged man, a penal colony in Malaysia, a hidden treasure, and plenty of deceit. And if that wasn’t enough then there’s the element of romance, as by the end Miss Morstan is well on her way to becoming Mrs. Watson. It’s typical Holmes fare, and that’s a good thing.

Club Rules by Andrew Trees

(*** of five)

I had a very complicated relationship with this book. In the beginning, when every chapter a new characters was introduced, I almost got fed up and put it down. But I don’t really do that. So I trudged on until there were at least a few characters for me to grab onto. This is, essentially, the story of an entire town show through the eyes of a handful of its residents. The town in question is Eden’s Glen, Illinois, a fictional suburb of Chicago. Eden’s Glen is nice, it’s prestigious, and there’s apparently a minimum requirement of asshole if you strive to live there. Meaning, you should be one. Every single character in this book is a horrid person, if only because they treat everyone else around them like shit, don’t communicate with their spouse and/or offspring, and climb over each other’s backs to achieve a modicum of status elevation. At the center of this group of hideous individuals are the Winthropes; Preston and Anne who everyone want to be. They’re rich, they’re glamorous, they’re falling apart. Like every other man in the book Preston screwed around on his wife and they never discuss it before Anne moves out leaving her son behind. The son, of course, Baird, is the only vaguely likable character in this whole show. He’s got issues, but they’re most sympathetic and he does seem to TRY, even if he never gets it right. But, he’s a teenager, he’s not SUPPOSED to get it right. And at least it gave a change from every single man bitching inwardly about his wife gaining wait or wearing the wrong clothes or not screwing him readily every night.

Now, don’t think I misunderstand, this is a satire of a suburban stereotype that doesn’t really exist. (See ‘Suburgatory’, American Broadcasting Company for further reference) And in a lot of way it does succeed. We often see the same exchange from several sides, which is usually amusing enough to keep me holding the book instead of throwing it across the room. But, I would have like to see a few less narrators. I couldn’t get a grasp on most of them and grasping, social climbing Norman, for example, didn’t propel any sort of story along. But overall it was an amusing mess that moved along quickly and I don’t regret reading, even if I wouldn’t pass it along to any friends.

Dash & Lily’s Book of Dares by David Levithan and Rachel Cohn

(**** of five)

I picked up this book because I got the rather strong and sudden impression that Rachel Cohn and David Levithan must be very fond of Dashiell Hammett. Nick and Norah was one thing, that could be a coincidence, especially with the altered spelling of the heroines name, but Dash and Lily is too obvious. Too gloriously clear. Now, why this should be a reason for someone to pick up a book is something I can’t rightfully answer (and if I can’t then no one can), but it was. I read Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist sometime around when the movie came out. I found it intriguing, cute, and miles beyond what is usually pumped out for Young Adult audiences. I should maybe point out here that my opinion is skewed as I am in no way a Young Adult anymore. Only at heart. And maturity. Also beside the point.

‘Dash and Lily’ takes place on and around Christmas in New York City. Both teenagers find themselves inexplicably alone for the holiday and each need someone to reach out to in order to occupy their time and their sanity. He’s finicky, bookish, and a myriad of other adjectives you can already imagine from the two I’ve already presented, and she’s adorable, somewhat immature, and all heart. At first it’s hard to believe that these two might actually hit it off, despite a shared love of perceived newness and J.D. Salinger. But eventually it becomes more and more clear that while they have many differences, they are probably what they need in another person.

It was a pleasant little book that didn’t take long to read and was filled with likable and well rounded characters. And that’s really what this story is about. The story meanders through the streets of Manhattan with crazed mothers, overenthusiastic friends, lots of relatives, and lebkuchen cookies, but this is really about Dash and Lily, through and through.

My only problem? Franny Glass was never going to Yale, that was never in question. She was, in fact, already in college (probably Smith or one like it) and visiting Lane Coutell at what was probably Princeton for the Yale game. She talks extensively about it. Nit-picky? Sure, but there’s a bit of Dash in me.

~~~

Find other book related awesomeness at PaperBackSwap. Trade old books for new books for just the price of shipping. I’m slightly obsessed.

Last year I spent New Years in Beacon, New York visiting my friend, Atticus, who I hadn’t seen in years. I’m talking… kids had been born that I’d never met. The visit was long past due but because of my somewhat annoying work schedule the only time I could fit in a visit was over the holiday. So another friend, Daniel, and I piled into the car and off we went to Dutchess County (which I call such because I find it to be a rather glorious county name). I posted about it here. But, one of the things I took away from this trip, and it’s detailed more fully in that post I just linked, is how completely amazing the Hudson River really is. So immense and historic and I get lovely thoughts of old Dutch settlers finding new places to settle.

February

In February of last year my mother went to a wedding at the Ritz Carlton and decided to get a room. I had a Burlesque event in Akron on the same night but afterwards I got to sleep in style. That was the sort of hotel room that makes sad I’m poor most of the time. The best part was probably the view which looked out onto the Flats, and bridges, and our beautiful little winding Cuyahoga.

March

Ah, St. Patrick’s Day. I seems like the sort of holiday where I’d just start indiscriminately snapping photos. And guess what? It is. I had the day off this year and went with K and J downtown to view the parade, then beat the crowds on East 4th who were heading to Flannery’s (we headed for Erie Island Coffee Company), and then finally went on to our old standby the Charles Stuart Parnell in good old Cleveland Heights. It’s always amusing how they have a bouncer one night a year and the cups suddenly turn from glass to plastic. It’s always a good time, even on non-Irish theme holidays. And could there possibly be a more drunk looking photo?

April

Roller derby starts in March, but it goes into full swing in April. Every year K, J, and I get season tickets and have a blast watching two of my favorite things; girls kicking a little ass, and people body checking each other. This year I finally came out with my roller derby name, though I have no intention of every using it (that DOES NOT give any readers out there free game); Maid of the Fist.

May

Niagara Falls is only of my favorite places on Earth. Which is convenient since it’s only about four hours away. I love the juxtaposition of natural beauty to one of the cheesiest places one can possibly imagine. Where else, except Clifton Hill, can one find a Burger King adorned with Frankenstein or King Kong hanging over a fallen Empire State Building? The Clifton Hill area of Niagara Falls, Ontario is nothing short of fantastic with about eighty themed wax museums and permenant haunted houses. Cheap souvenirs, watered down drinks, and a beer garden karaoke bar; along with a few gigantic waterfalls. It’s a tourists dream.

June

Every year K and I head off, once a week, to Mentor Headlands, our favorite Lake Erie Beach. We usually go on Thursdays which is perfect. I get off work at three, she gets off work at four and there’s plenty of time to spend relaxing on the uncrowded beach before Scooter’s Dog House for a hamburger afterwards. It’s one summer tradition I most definitely could not do without. June of this past year was a bit rainy, but our first official Beach Day was firmly in the middle of the month. Oh, why can’t it be June right now?

July

It had been awhile since I’d done anything for the Fourth of July. The year before I was suffering from a kidney stone and entirely doped up on Percocets for any festivities so this year I really wanted to live it up. I convinced K and J to go to the Family Fun Fest this year in Settler’s Park by the river. They had Euclid Beach Park paraphernalia, salt water taffy (with free water) for a dollar, and Sousa band to entertain us while it got dark. It was pretty much everything I wanted it to be.

August

Oh Sebastian, I made you up in August. For those of you who aren’t my friends on Facebook I feel as though I should explain. In fact he might be getting his own page to elaborate on this a little bit. Sebastian is my fake twin brother. He was originally going to be two years older than me, but an old (Shakespeare) teacher said every girl should have a twin brother named Sebastian. Neither Viola nor I could agree more. Now he is, obviously, a bit of a joke, but at this point he’s so intricately designed that no one can quite believe (or wants to accept) that he is, in fact, not real. Particularly me.

September

In September K, J, and I headed to Pittsburgh. I love Pittsburgh. People seem to think this is weird, but usually it comes from people who have never been to Pittsburgh. It’s a small city, to be sure, but I can’t help but be impressed with its relatively bustling downtown and  culture. Plus, well they have, not one, but two funiculars. That’s a plus. And I love the yellow bridges. I love all the bridges, since they have a ton of them. On this trip we went to the Toonseum and farmers market. I bought some plums that I then left at Lake Winnipesaukee (much to my chagrin). I also love the hills.

October

In 2004 I went to Europe by myself. I wanted to go and knew no one who was able to go with me so I did the only thing I could do and went by myself. I had a blast, obviously (who wouldn’t?), but I haven’t done much solo traveling since then. I couldn’t figure out why not. So this year, after a camp reunion in Fitzwilliam, New Hampshire and the aforementioned sojourn to Lake Winnipesaukee I headed to New York. It had been about four or five years since I’d been there and I find that after about that amount of time I start to miss my trips there. I stayed in a hovel in Morningside Heights (okay, it wasn’t so bad) and went to the American Museum of Natural History. And other stuff, clearly. Actually, though, I found myself walking outrageous distances and never once used public transportation which… was a bad idea the next day when I had blisters and was sore in muscles I didn’t know I had. But I did exactly what I wanted to do, which was mostly book research, and was very happy.

November

In November I turned 30 and celebrated the end of my twenties with the twenties at my Gatsby Party. I think it was one of the first successful parties of I’ve thrown. Everyone got very into the costumes and a lot of people actually showed up (always a plus). We drank copious amounts of champagne, Pimm’s Cup, and St. Germain. I’m pretty sure everyone was drunk by the end of the night, which is just how Fitzgerald would have liked it.

December

December is the holidays, pure and simple. Always has been and probably always will be. There’s so much that goes into getting ready for the season; gift buying, tree purchasing and decorating, pulling boxes from the attic and putting them back… pulling out my Charlie Brown tree… Okay this was the first year I had an official Charlie Brown tree. I had another in Columbus that just sort of looked like the tree in the infamous Christmas special but I got rid of that pitiful thing when I moved. Now I’ve gone official and I love it. Obviously, I love Peanuts and like K said when she finally watched the special “I found out you’re a female Charlie Brown”. It’s true. But I don’t always think that’s a bad thing.

As the main characters of Dashiell Hammett’s novel The Thin Man and the subsequent six films based off it, Nick and Nora Charles (played by the incandescently awesome William Powell and Myrna Loy) are great for so many reasons. Here are a few.

1) They solve crimes.

2) They solve crimes while drinking.

3) They solve crimes with drinking and bantering amusingly with one another.

4) They have a dog named Asta who’s actually sort of cute. For a dog.

Well, I can’t say it better than they can.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PG3NZjRv2nM

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H1tnbPBCtnI

“Charlie Brown, you’re the only person I know who can take a wonderful season like Christmas and turn it into a problem. Maybe Lucy’s right. Of all the Charlie Browns in the world, you’re the Charlie Browniest. “

“Look, Charlie, let’s face it. We all know that Christmas is a big commercial racket. It’s run by a big eastern syndicate, you know.”

“I never thought it was such a bad little tree. It’s not bad at all, really. Maybe it just needs a little love.”

No one celebrates quite like those Addamses.