Toby Baker Toby Baker

The Day After

'Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house, all the creatures were stirring, especially the mouse!  The stockings were torn down and the mantle was bare, the hopes were all valid, for surely, someone had been there.

     The children were still nestled all snug in their beds, while memories from yesterday danced in their heads.

     I read the paper while the wife sipped some coffee, and gently rubbed the ears of her new pet doggy.

     When out on the porch there arose an odd noise

I sprang from my chair, but with style & poise (and then some).  I still have a reputation to keep, around the office and with the boys.  The dog raised an ear and Ma turned her head, as I opened the door to our old neighbor, Fred!

     He had an older brother just down the way who was sick.  The neighborhood knew him by the first name of Nick.  He was a friendly old man with a beard white as snow, and normally goes hunting with an arrow and bow.  Last year he took our boys out to the field, taught them shooting, and tracking, got hurt, but has since healed.

     "Good morning there, Fred!  What may I do for you today," I asked with a smile moving the paper out of the way.

     "Not a thing, yet this morning" said Fred with a grin as he brushed some snow off his chinny-chin-chin.

     "Can I offer you some coffee, just roasted last week?"

     "I regretfully decline, dear friend, for it is not coffee that I seek.  I've had this stirring in my spirit all this month and this year, a buzz far beyond the feeling after liquor or beer.  I've noticed of late, you've not been quite yourself; why normally you resemble a jolly, old elf.  Your socks don't match, and your hair is a mess.  I've even seen you get the paper in a dress!"

     "Now, calm down there, Fred," I replied with a smile.  "I've not worn these here socks in quite a while.  They were a gift from my grandmother who has since passed, and I've worn them for years, that I mention 'cuz you asked.  That was not a dress you saw me wear the other day, but a kimono from Japan made especially by Teipay.

     I paused for a moment from our conversational talk, and looked beyond Fred to a clean sidewalk.  There was snow on the roof, and the road, and the trees, but on the walk I saw none as Fred shivered in the breeze.  He had shoveled the snow on this cold winter's day.  I was dumbfounded, speechless...what could I say?   And here is the odd thing, Fred is older than I.  You can tell by the width and the length of his tie.

     "Fred, won't you come in, and warm up for a while?"

     "Sorry to disappoint," donning his face with a smile.  "There is too much to do, and so many sidewalks to plow." he said while putting his gloves back on, and wiping fresh snow from his brow.       It made me stop and think of how I am often a jerk, Fred was a true servant, and it showed in his work.  He puts others before himself.  That's his motto for life, it brought a tear to my eye as I peered over at my wife.  It made me realize that I had not been the man I should be, but I could do better, and be better, with my wife right beside me.  Treating her and others more better than I, would be my new goal, I could do more than just try.

     Normally about this time we would be tearing down the decor, pulling the storage bins out, and paper up from the floor.  I realize now, that perhaps I had made a mistake, 

     "Can we keep them up, all the decor, for just one more day?  The tinsel of popcorn and all the ornaments we made? The tree? The snowmen, the lights and the cards?"  They were from our family and friends with regards.

     Can we take a lesson from Fred and his heart for serving others, putting each-other first and others first with each other.  Like evil Gru from Despicable me with his banana-eating minions, but then again...that's just my humble opinion.

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Christmas Toby Baker Christmas Toby Baker

Christmas Memories

The bacon crackles it's beautiful song in the background as the aroma fills the air bringing your dog racing to the table,

     The bacon crackles it's beautiful song in the background as the aroma fills the air bringing your dog racing to the table, impatiently waiting for its scraps and the cat not be too far behind, sitting a few feet away quietly mocking the canine in its normal condescending fashion knowing just how short-lived the memory of your dog possesses, as it will be waiting for quite some time to receive anything if any scraps from the table leftover from the sweet and succulent gift directly from God to mankind...pig.

     You lean back in your chair of many years peering through the kitchen window to see snow fall dancing in the early winter breeze as a light haze begins to cover the ground and the birds make their annual journey south to escape the coming cold.  You day dream of one day following them down in your RV with the lovely wife and you unravel today's paper, smoothing the edges and crease in the center you reach for another sip of the peppermint mocha just overlooking your blueberry bagel.

     It then hits you like a storm.  The month no longer reads November, and she has already turned the page on the calendar.  Yup, it is now December.  "Where has the year gone?" You ask yourself.

     Brushing the dog's nose away, you think back to simpler times when politicians were noble, fuel was $.89 a gallon, and words were cheap.  Now-a-days it is as difficult to find an honest Abe as it is to get a gallon of milk for less than $3.  Words are cheaper than ever and often thrown around in such a careless fashion as to imply that not only is the person at whom you just blew up void of any real feelings, but what once was considered a vow in the presence of witnesses can now be quickly dissolved at the onset of discomfort with no more than a credit card and a Phone App.

     One thing hasn't changed, and that's the clock.  Time still flies by with little regard for age or occupation in its forgotten memory encapsulated with things to do and groups of people to casually text.  The days are long, but the years are oh so short.  May I encourage you then as we once again embark on this beautiful holiday season to be mindful of what little time you have left in this world, and to carefully spend it with those whom you love.  "Tomorrow is promised to no one" and "is uncertain as the wind".  You can always buy another basket of fruit or gold ring. These fine gifts are perhaps even things that the people for whom you are making this purchase can buy for themselves.  But, no matter how hard you try, you can not buy more time.  Sure, you can leverage your time by delegating or recruiting others to help in knocking things off your list of tasks, but you can not buy back that hour you just spent in front of the TV or Mac.  

     Think back to the Christmas of yesteryear.  We would all pile into the car, bundled up with Style and Then Some as if we were about to go for a stroll through Siberia...in the winter.  There was barely enough space to breathe let alone relax with all the gifts packed in the trunk, around us, and underneath us, but we were excited, for we were off to Grandma's house and for the next two hours I would envision the sweet, crunchy goodness of Grandma's frozen Ginger Crinkles.  I could almost taste the colored sugar as it sparkled in my mind atop the perfected balance in texture between moist and fresh juxtaposed the crisp of the cool freezer.  A tall glass of milk set beside me yearning to fulfill it's ultimate purpose in compliment to one of the greatest accomplishments and credits to Grandma's everywhere...the cookie.

     Time seemed as though it flew by as we passed semi trucks and homes with large colored lights glowing in the background of the falling snow.  Before I knew it, we were there!  The baggage and clothes, even Grandma would have to wait...the devilishly-good ginger crinkles screamed for my attention.  Of course she would keep a few extra in the cookie jar, but they paled in comparison to the flavor held within those circular beauties tucked away neatly in an orange, tupperware cylinder older than George Bailey.  Following in behind me would be my siblings frowning a face of disgust knowing that once again, I got the upperhand on the quasi-hidden treasure.  The folks slightly trailed behind bringing in the luggage and the cold night air along with them creating an interesting aroma blending turkey, stuffing and cookies with fresh driven snow and the remains of the family farm.  They had these 2 reclining rockers, barely cushioned with what seemed like a paper-thin cotton, but perhaps not as comfortable, and the greatest part about these chairs made in the time of the renaissance, were the colors - a vomit green and orange which perfectly contrasted the poopy-brown davenport setting just a few feet away.  It was a scene from Madmen.

     And what about yourself?  Do you recall your seasonal gatherings as a child?  Walking into the grandparents home about half-hour before dinner from the oven would be served?  You might find a swirl of smoke from Grandpa's tobacco pipe hanging in the air, a sweet aroma of musk and fireplace soot as the wood crackled against the red brick and every few moments the bloodhound would raise an ear or the entire head depending on how loud the foreign sound might have disturbed his winter slumber.  Grandma slowly rocked back and forth knitting another sweater and murmuring to herself under her breath the many complaints of the pipe.  There was no TV, or if they just so happened to have a console, it would be turned off with a clear vinyl cover over the freshly dusted wood as if to imply it was off-limits until Grandpa said otherwise.  The overhead light was off, and the only other lamp in the room was the tree cut down just a few days earlier providing a beautiful glow to the whole room with lights dancing almost in harmony to the retro sounds of Andy Williams spinning from the record player.

   Sure, it might be a tad Norman Rockwell and unrealistic, but the memories are certainly there.  Can I encourage you then, to visually paint for your family and friends the memories you might wish for them to have years later, and create a few memories this Christmas?

     Ne'r did one say on his death bed how he wished to have spent just a little more time at the office on paperwork or crossing things off the to-do list, and also did not regret the time invested in his family and with his friends, but...then again...that's just my humble opinion.

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Her Toby Baker Her Toby Baker

A Gift For Her

     Diamonds are forever, right?  At least that is the 007 flick so well fashioned after the coined phrase now used to encapsulate  your bride or perhaps future bride, and with a rich, sultry voice you are thus hypnotized to believe

     Diamonds are forever, right?  At least that is the 007 flick so well fashioned after the coined phrase now used to encapsulate  your bride or perhaps future bride, and with a rich, sultry voice you are thus hypnotized to believe that the two starved models walking towards each other with that, "Gosh, I could really go for some Rally's fries about now" look in their eyes, could actually be you and your lady friend.  You are serenaded by music resembling Berry White and watch as beautiful blondes become grossly giddy with excitement and awkwardly fake smiles when they realize that he went to Jarred's while being ransacked by the worst jingle ever conceived, or worse yet...or maybe you are told how to spell the word, Kiss.

     In a consumer-driven world where today's toy and diamond purchases become next year's donations and jewelry box liners one begins to ask himself, "Was it worth it?"  Break it down numerically for a moment.  Let's say you earn $10/hour at your place of business and we shall pretend a pack of smokes COST $5 a box.  If you are a smoker then you just spent half an hour laboring away for a pack of cigarettes, and must ask yourself, "Was it worth it?"  Can we apply the same principal to gifts?

     I can not necessarily recommend you to a jewish diamond emperor who goes by Haivvy and owns a jewelry store ran by brunette triplets who all answer to a guy named Doug, and possibly sold strawberries at $15 a pound to the late, great John Pinnette, I might have an idea or two as to how you might channel your inner Papa Elf and deliver some solid gold memories this year without taking out a second mortgage on the house.

     Time is certainly a rare commodity and we seem to have even less of it in today's day and age.  We so casually trade an hour of it for the latest Madmen or Walking Dead episode...guilty.  It is needed for us to trade at least 8 of them for a days wage or maybe 5 hours for a night's sleep, but do we consciously go about spending the money with the same measures by which we accumulated it?  Entertain this idea - your most memorable vacation, was it the one you spent going all out, and everything was perfect?  Or was the vacation on which you look back and laugh the one where the vehicle broke down, they had no vacancy so you stayed up all night playing cards and teepeeing the house across from the parking lot where you parked you RV?  I recall being in college with barely enough money to purchase both the laundry detergent and bologna.  Our first Valentine's Day dinner was spent on the living room carpeting because our kitchen table just broke.  We had a few candles bought from the bargain bin at Walmart and dined on some Great Value pasta with Berry White playing softly through my Bose speakers I received as a gift from the folks. (They are now almost 20yrs old and play as if they were delivered yesterday.)  The wine was so bad we dumped it down the sink after a couple of sips, but we still, and will forever have the memory.

     One does not need money to celebrate Christmas, they simply need the right spirit.  If all you have to give is time, then use it wisely.  Get creative.  The less money you have, the more creativity is required.  

     1. Go one a date.  It doesn't have to be the most expensive restaurant in town.  One elf with whom I am vaguely acquainted took his date out for "The World's Best Cup of Coffee", which inevitably turned out to be a "crappy cup of coffee", but nevertheless a memory was born and only gave them another story to add to their repertoire of dramatic encounters which they will share for years to come.  The commissioner will tell you that he and his bride would walk to the mound, pop a squat, and share a sandwich back in the day.

     2. Speak her language - does she want time? Has she asked you to be of service around the home in some way?  Has she asked you to attend one of her special events?  What is it that is important to her?  Different people in general speak the language of love in different ways.  Some feel loved by receiving a simple gift, not expensive, , but just the simple thought that you were thinking of them will send them into a warm and fuzzy place while others desire nothing more than a little time next to her man.  If you do not know by now, then ask your lovely lady about her preferences.

     3. Give her a story that you two created together.  Give her a story that she can share with her friends when she goes back to work in January or with her friends at their next get together.

     In the meantime, have a holly, jolly Christmas.  It is the best time of the year, but then again...that's just my humble opinion.

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