There are some old traditions disappearing from the holiday scene, some have been subject to demeaning comments for years. It now seems to be poor judgment to give fruitcake to any one, it has become a sign of vengeance. Admittedly this overweight, fruit filled, sugary abomination would be equal to a cyanide pill to a diabetic like me, but in my family my Aunt Sis would spend days in her kitchen lovingly assembling these for each family. Each were accepted gracefully and for weeks we would rage on how delicious they were after all Aunt Sis was very, very wealthy. Secondly there is egg nog, a taste I never acquired but my wife absolutely loves. I think it’s because when I was young there were 2 egg nogs made, the kids version and the adult version the only difference was the bourbon additive in the adults which I saw members of the family constantly adjusting to their taste. Lastly I abhor those who designate the beautiful song “Baby It’s Cold Outside” a romantic, cozy, sit by the fire courting song into a warped, demeaning demonstration of their generations sick perversions, Date Rape. “What’s in this drink?” in the mid 1940’s referred to alcoholic content not 2017’s roofies. The inference that she’s trapped “No cabs out here” gave reference to severity of the storm. One must also realize that this song has often been reversed as to what gender takes what part. I’m sure the writers at the time thought “Let’s write a DATE RAPE song, it’ll sell millions!”. Although in current times they may be right. Pressure valve relieved, the Curmudgeon wishes you a great day!