Christmas in Tahiti

People ask me all the time what Christmas in Tahiti is like, and I'll be honest with you: I don't know quite what to tell them. Never having been to Tahiti myself, you understand, in general or at Christmas in particular. But let's level with each other: I don't think it's a very big deal. I mean, for one thing, it's probably eighty degrees in Tahiti at Christmas time, and for another, they're probably not even used to celebrating it. So my guess is that people kind of play Christmas by ear in Tahiti; if you want to give somebody a present, if you're American or something, it's okay, but on the other hand nobody's going to get pissed off or anything if you don't remember them.

I don't even know if they have Christmas carols in Tahiti, to tell you the truth. Even if they do, again, I doubt anybody makes any big deal about it. I mean, little kids probably don't carol in front of the governor-general's house, although my reading of the whole thing is that the govenor-general and his kids probably slip in a few carols on Christmas eve, without making a bog deal of it or anything. Maybe they have a little Christmas tree, nothing pretentions, but if I know my governor-generals they don't just let the day slip by. I mean, the governor-general probably gets Christmas cards from people he knows back home, and for all I know he may even send some out himself, with a Tahitian theme or something. A native girl lying under a Christmas tree, I don't know.

Maybe the governor-general's friends are jealous of him for being in Tahiti and all. He's got a pretty sweet deal, right? Nice weather, not much to do, a big white mansion, beaches, all that stuff. Who's to say there isn't even a little fooling around on the side? Anybody's got to admit there would be worse things than being governor-general.

I'm getting a little far afield, I know, but I got a point to make: here's a nice island, see, where it's warm all the time and you can just sort of lie around under the palm trees and you don't have to worry about Christmas or any of that stuff at all. I mean, I've never been there myself, but I think I've got as good an idea as the next guy about what the general situation is down there. Take my brother-in-law, for example. When he was in the Navy he had a buddy who'd been down to Tahiti, and this guy could confirm the whole thing, detail for detail--the palm trees, the beaches, the governor-general, everything.

My point is, here we are, right? What's the use of thinking about Tahiti? Why do people even ask me about it all the time? None of this has to be a big deal, even here. Take my father. There was a man who had a philosophy. He philosophy was, what the hell, why not enjoy life all year round? Why pretend any time's better than any other? I'll give you an example. The summer's nice and warm, and you can drive out to the beach, and you can read a lot of magazines and stuff that they probably don't even have in Tahiti. There may be some ups and downs here, sure, but you have to ride with the waves, so to speak.

Sometimes I like to think about the governor-general's car, though, down in Tahiti. I mean, I'm happy with my Nova but I figure if he's a class guy he's probably got one of those english cars. A Jensen Interceptor. And being governor-general, he probably doesn't get too many speeding tickets. Even if he gets pulled over, the cop probably says I'm sorry governor-general, I didn't know it was you. Go right on. So the governor-general probably takes out this Jensen Interceptor--this is the picture I have, see--late at night sometimes, and hauls along the beach where the sand is flat and hard, past the palm trees, watching the waves break, mayby making 110, 120. It's just a nice thing to think about, you know, not that it's important or anything. It's not important. God knows why people are always asking me about this, because what do I know. It's like my old man once told me. Peter, he said, you take it as it comes. One day at a time. It's all the ame to me.