Christmas at my house is always at least six or seven times more pleasant than anywhere else. We start drinking early. And while everyone else is seeing only one Santa Claus, we'll be seeing six or seven.

We frequently hear of people dying from too much drinking . . . that this happens is a matter of record. But the blame almost always is placed on whiskey. Why this should be I never could understand. You can die from drinking too much of anything. . . .

I must have a drink of breakfast.

I cook with wine, sometimes I even add it to the food.

Now don't say you can't swear off drinking; it's easy. I've done it a thousand times.

The joy of brightening other lives, bearing each others' burdens, easing other's loads and supplanting empty hearts and lives with generous gifts becomes for us the magic of Christmas."