Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race
As Christmas approaches, deck the halls with bows to ambivalence

Christmas is so stupid. You know how in the middle of a giant sneeze, you think you might die? That's how I feel about these overindulgent holidays. Do we really love Christmas, or do we merely follow along, hoping it doesn't kill us? The canary in the coal mine is my lovely wife. Once a Christmased soul, Posh feels emotionally fleeced by the whole ordeal. Self-tasked with too many things, she turns an ashen gray and goes about her business like a character in a Dickens play. Gloomy. Defeated. Develops a little limp. "I'd rather race the Iditarod," she said the other day. "Why?" "Fewer stoplights," she said. "And the parking's...