Here I sit stranded in my home by twenty inches of white flakes of ice after yesterday's blizzard waiting for the plow-guys to arrive (I hope they get here by dusk before the prairie fever sets in). What did I do all day long while it snowed and snowed and snowed and snowed? What else, but watch four hours of that nuttier than a fruitcake, King Lear that's been on my television's queue since March of 2009 and drank mugs of hot cocoa spiked with Godiva liqueur until I melted into the sofa in a chocolate haze. And talk about Lear's poor parenting skills, he makes Bernie Madoff look like father of the year.
So, in honor of King Lear, try the fruitcake this holiday season. It's not so bad once you choke it down and chase it with lots of libations.