by Max Brantley
Christmas Eve afternoon nears, a wonderful time when the world — and typewriters and keyboards — falls silent and our family gathers. My Christmas Eve walk awaits. Meanwhile, there's some work to be done, including hopes that the appliance repair crew will have me with a working oven shortly so I won't have to turn to the Weber kettle for the roast beef and potato casserole tomorrow. The rolls are done, I'm happy to say, and my elf taste-testers say they're great.
I don't intend to let anything interfere with the good spirit of the time, not even this account from the fringe Religious Right on the war on Christmas being waged by liberals like me.