Secret Santa, Still Stuck on the 401 Westbound

PLUS: #MondayManCrush year-end special

It’s the most wonderful time of year, and I want to make extra sure I’ve addressed everyone’s concerns, neuroses and conspiracy theories, because I really, really want you to get just what you asked for.

(Or, as expressed by H.L. Mencken: “Democracy is the theory that the common people know what they want, and deserve to get it good and hard.” You know, like that.)

To kick off, have we all had our annual gobsmacked day of incredulity that there’s snow, in Canada, in winter? In my era, when millionaires cried if you didn’t tax them enough, cars were bigger than a studio apartment, and kids got swaddled in snowsuits so thickly padded they were unable to flex their elbows or knees between October and April, heavy snow squalls were eagerly anticipated by young and old.

What we now regard as an apocalypse that someone forgot to add to our calendar was innocently called “White Christmas” and generally agreed to be Hallmark-card levels of picturesque and desirable, even singable if you’re Bing Crosby.

We’re a cranky lot these days, though. Snow, in Canada a truly indulgent weather event consisting of billions of ice crystals swirling in a gale-force wind, lowers the ambient and body temperatures a fair degree, and there’s famously…