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Summit up

Special to the DailyHappy sweet 16 to Leah Rybak! "Our beautiful little girl is all grown up! Love from Mom, Dad, and Chelsea."

Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world’s only daily column bobbing for cranberries in the eggnog.Yes, that’s us up on the table doing the twist with the lady from the mail room. Hey, look at Bob running around holding the mistletoe over everyone in the room (and trying to kiss them even though his moustache is full of deviled egg filling and cocktail wiener sauce). And there goes Rita, on her annual tirade about how she’s going to have to show more cleavage so her bonus is bigger next year.

Ah, what fun: ‘Tis the season for office parties!If you happen to be unlucky enough to work someplace where there aren’t a lot of employees, then you probably don’t have one of these holiday staples. Sadly. Even if you do have a holiday party, if there’s only six or seven of you, it really just doesn’t compare. Honestly, you don’t know what you’re missing.

See, we have this theory (it’s actually an elegant mathematical equation sure to win us accolades when it’s published in the next issue of “Nature”) that the embarrassment quotient of a holiday party is directly proportional to the number of people attending when multiplied by the proof of the alcohol served. Age, marital status and rank in the corporate file, curiously, seem to have no correlation with the faux pas-factor, although number of children does initially appear to leave one prone to bone-headedness.This is all strictly scientifically speaking, of course.We have our office party tonight, as we’re writing this, so we’re already preparing our recording instruments so that all aspects of the affair can be clinically noted: recording devices (by which we mean copy machines, which always seem to get sat on sans pants), human barometers (that is to say, a designated driver – someone to say that’s enough, let’s get out of here) and, most importantly, a newly upgraded BS-meter, good for knowing when to get out of those conversations with coworkers’ spouses who always seem to have recommendations on how to do your job better.

Oh, the joy.We’ll let you know about all the fun. You let us know about yours.

***Thursday’s password, ladies and gentlemen, is “Christmas cookies.” You could try sending them to or fax at (970) 668-0755, but that’s not going to help us eat any of them, so at the least leave your recipes on the voicemail at (970) 668-3998, ext. 237.We’re out bailing the boss out of the hoosegow …

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