A Heartfelt (and Slightly Cheeky) Christmas Challenge to Alamogordo’s Grinch: Time to Grow That Heart Before 2026!

As the holiday lights flicker across the Tularosa Basin and the scent of pine mingles with green chile, it’s time once again for a beloved local tradition: the 2nd Life Media Holiday Grinch Report—our annual roundup of those who spent the year trying (and failing spectacularly) to steal the spirit of transparency from Alamogordo.

Because nothing says “seasonal cheer” like a few Grinches perched atop their self‑declared mountains of influence, clutching their grudges, titles, and Facebook rants like stockings stuffed with stale fruitcake.

So buckle up. This sleigh ride gets spicy.

Chapter One: Mount Crumpit, Otero County Edition

In Dr. Seuss’s classic tale, the Grinch lives atop Mount Crumpit.

In Alamogordo, the mountain is metaphorical—but the altitude of self‑importance is dizzying.

From these lofty perches—city boards, county seats, school committees, chambers, and the occasional “leadership” Facebook group—the Grinches gaze down at the community with a scowl that could curdle eggnog.

They grumble:

• “Why is the press asking questions?”

• “Why are they reporting on that meeting?”

• “Why won’t they just print what we tell them to print?”

It’s almost as if they believe the First Amendment is a seasonal decoration—something you hang up when convenient and pack away when it gets uncomfortable.

 Chapter Two: Max, Max #2, and the Proxy Parade

Every Grinch needs a Max—a loyal sidekick to tug the sleigh of schemes.

But here in Otero County, Max comes in many forms:

• a cousin suddenly “concerned about bias,”

• a chamber buddy whispering rumors like they’re passing out fruitcake,

• a school board member who treats accountability like a personal insult,

• a county commissioner who thinks transparency is a dietary restriction,

• and the ever‑reliable family proxy who appears at public meetings, civic events, and—yes—

even at the journalist’s secondary place of employment, glaring like a mall Santa who just got told Christmas is canceled.

This proxy doesn’t just tug the sleigh—they try to ram it into the newsroom door.

They whisper. They stare. They attempt to intimidate.

They try to undermine the journalist’s livelihood, as if stealing his Christmas cookies will somehow silence the press.

It’s adorable, in a tragic, peppermint‑scented way.

 Chapter Three: The Midnight Raid on Public Trust

Just like the original Grinch, our local versions love a good disguise.

The classic wore a Santa suit.

The Alamogordo Grinch’s wears:

• “I’m just asking questions,”

• “He has a past legal run-in,”

• “I heard from someone who heard from someone,”

• “We support transparency—just not that kind,”

• “Independent press? Sounds suspicious.”

And instead of stealing ornaments and roast beast, they try to snatch:

• credibility,

• public trust,

• and the community’s right to know.

They tiptoe through the civic landscape, stuffing facts, context, and accountability into metaphorical sacks, convinced that if they remove enough truth, the spirit of transparency will vanish.

Chapter Four: The Whos of Alamogordo Keep Singing

But here’s the part the Grinches never understand.

Morning always comes.

And when it does, the Whos of Alamogordo—those pesky, resilient residents—gather anyway. They read they listen. They ask questions. They share stories. They keep singing the song of civic engagement, off‑key but determined.

And the independent press?

Still here.

Still reporting.

Still shining light into the corners where Grinches prefer the dark.

Because the spirit of transparency doesn’t come from silence.

It comes from voices—messy, loud, joyful, informed voices.

Chapter Five: The Heart‑Growing Moment (Optional, Not Guaranteed)

In the original story, the Grinch’s heart grows three sizes.

In Alamogordo, we remain open to the possibility.

Maybe one day, a Grinch will look down from their mountain of self righteousness, see the community gathered in unity, and realize:

• Accountability isn’t an attack.

• Journalism isn’t the enemy.

• Transparency isn’t a threat.

• And the press isn’t stealing Christmas—it’s protecting it.

But until that day arrives, we’ll keep the sleigh steady, the lights bright, and the roast beast warm.

Final Moral of the 2nd Life Media Grinch Report

To the Grinches of Otero County:

You can tug the sleigh.

You can whisper and intimidate.

You can glare from across the room—or enter someone’s workplace.

You can try to swipe the Christmas cookies.

But the Whos are awake.

The press is alive.

And the holiday spirit of transparency is here to stay.

From all of us at 2nd Life Media and AlamogordoTownNews.org—

may your hearts grow at least one size this year. May you join the who in peace and joy.