Put on your Santa hat, proudly display those elf ears you strategically camouflage with bushy sideburns during the other eleven months of the year, belt out your favorite Christmas carol, bite the head off a snowman sugar cookie, grab the eggnog from the fridge (check the expiration date) and take a pull straight from the bottle. Now you’re ready to settle in for the 2012 Christmas edition of “Ramblings.”

How is this edition different from the one offered up in 2011? How would I know…I don’t read this nonsense…I just write it. It’s a year later that much I know, I’m a year older and I suspect the same may be true with you. Other than that not much has changed.

We can count on the evening news to regale us with the same helpful holiday hints they dole out every single year at this time just in case you’ve been communing with Tibetan monks or silver back gorillas for the past 30 years. Such chestnuts like, “During the holidays keep you and yours safe by refraining from hanging gasoline soaked rags on the Christmas tree in front of a raging fireplace to dry.”

“Thank you channel 9 news…kids grab those rags off the Christmas tree…the news guy says it’s dangerous.” Also, “It may seem like fun to turn your favorite cinder block or bowling ball into festive ornaments but these items can be heavy and could possibly disrupt the balance of the tree potentially causing it to tip and injure children, pets, and the elderly.”

Ya know a few years back the Ellis family tested the Christmas tree up in flames scenario. It was a few days after Christmas and we had been cooped up eating leftovers and questionable peanut brittle while playing Pictionary and Yahtzee and the idea of burning the Christmas tree entered into the conversation.

We all had different ideas as to how quickly it would be reduced to a smoldering staff of Christmas past. I personally could hear the “wwoooph” sound it would emit as the flames engulfed and ravished its needles and limbs while the Ellis family stood by with their faces aglow with the last flickers of holiday season providing one last warm embrace.

There’s only one way to find out how quickly a Christmas tree will burn…this was before Google or Bing. Like an angry mob hopped up on cherry popcorn balls we grabbed the tree and made for the door. Mom, being the practical one, suggested we take the decorations and lights off it first. Since we always listen to our mother we gave the tree a few angry shakes leaving the ornaments in a neat little pile for mom to collect.

We took the tree to a snow bank in the yard that offered an unobstructed view for the family members that decided to stay in the house and view the tree lighting festivities from a safe distance. Being the eldest and most responsible and safety conscious of my siblings I took it upon myself to handle the matches.

If all went as planned there would be a big “wwoooph”, a hot bright burst of flame, and possibly the scent of burnt rabbit fur from my hat if I was slow on the escape. With great anticipation, I pulled my rabbit fur bomber hat down tight, lit the match and slowly moved it towards the needles of the tree. Nothing…no “wwoooph”…match after match…nothing.

Relying on everything Grandpa Ardell taught us about proper fire starting we commandeered a gas can and liberally splashed gasoline on the tree like cheap cologne. As visions of fireballs danced in our heads I struck the match and let it fly. A paltry little flame flickered up the tree doing little more than singeing a couple strands of wayward tinsel.

After an hour or so of testing various flammable substances we came to the conclusion that either the news guy was wrong or our tannenbomb was a dud. I respectfully tipped my rabbit fur hat towards the tree and in defeat we shuffled inside put the tree back in the living room and consoled ourselves with lefse and finger jello. Kids don’t try this at home. We are trained and highly experienced idiots.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good light, because you can’t rely on a burning Christmas tree to guide the way. Happy 41st Wedding Anniversary to my patient and loving parents. This is all your fault.