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, 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.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

     Last month I wrote an article about offering thanks to others for what you have, for what they bring, beginning with the small things.  If you would permit me, I would like to replicate that from a different perspective.  Allow me to elaborate.

     I had the pleasure of screening one of my favorite movies of all time with my three boys the other night.  The dim lighting fueled the buttery-salty filled atmosphere as we munched on some gourmet popcorn, sipped ice-cold Coca-Cola, laughed and cried as Steve Martin showed some kind of strange unconditional love to a complete stranger as life or something like it presented him practically stuck together on his journey from New York back to his home in Chi-town to reunite with his loving family for Thanksgiving, but what would be a brief warm flight from one port to another without concern for his gloves, took a slight detour through which he gained a powerful life-lesson as portrayed through the eyes of Director John Hughes in the holiday classic, "Planes, Trains, & Automobiles."

     I am the kind of weird guy who has since removed the term "coincidence" from my vocabulary believing that when I wind up sitting next to a chatterbox on a plane or riding along the interstate in a half burnt automobile in one degree weather with no rear view mirror or functioning turn signals, but oddly enough the radio still works, that perhaps there is more to the situation than what is currently presented and I should take note from famed comedian, Steve Martin, who in this case, despite the dire circumstances and unbelievably annoyances, lack of hygiene, and apparent obstacle to his destination, that maybe there is a grand design and we could share a little love to those who may not have it as good as we do, or are simply down on their "luck". Maybe we could completely throw them for a loop in offering help to someone who is far better off than us, and they walk away humbled by this strange unconditional love that we are willing to share with them regardless of status, dress code, or income level.

     I, like many others, would generally avoid such potential problems for fear of stepping out of my comfort zone, and in doing so missed many a blessing to other people.  The attitude which I have tried to adapt, as difficult as it is is to embrace the change for which you seek if you honestly make the decision, deciding in your heart that from here on out your life will be about something other than you, and lived out on purpose rather than accident, but then again...that’s just my humble opinion.

Prepped for Thanksgiving Dinner

     Your annual beating from the conglomerate gathering known as your family will ensue or continue within about a week.  As you prepare your mind with snappy comebacks and your Mikasa dish with sweet desserts, allow me to help with the attire.

     Above all, you will want to dress for comfort as the chances of you simply making an appearance at your annual day in family court and slipping out the back door may not be as probable as you dreamt up in your mind.  Obviously, it can't be a silk kimono and slippers, but it certainly does not have to be Black Tie from Calvin.

     Let's begin at the top and work our way down.  Depending on your complexion you may want something more subdued in color, darker tones and allow the bling to bring the pizzazz.  Might I recommend a light blue collared shirt.  This not only goes with everything, but once the spills from the running children begin your stains will be better hidden than your cousins new boyfriend who foolishly threw wisdom aside for a crisp white shirt to be worn at the kiddie table.

     If your wife or girlfriend will abide, I would skip the tie.  You do not want to look too stuffy for a family-style occasion, and go with a simple orange vneck which subtly states you are both modern and in season.

     Slip into a dark grey tweed jacket to don a classic look, or if you prefer, grab your favorite blue blazer.  Clip the gold buttons and have your tailor sew on a few simple dark blue, or if you are feeling dangerous, choose light blue buttons with a contrasting purple thread.  My tailor peered at me as if I asked her to mend my Members Only jacket, but I simply asked her to trust me.  Her demeanor quickly changed soon after she saw it all come together.  Fold in a polka dotted pocket square.  There is no need to match the colors of the shirt or sweater to the square, you can do that at work.

     Jeans are certainly appropriate for this setting, and recommended.  The darker you go, the dressier they appear.  If your family goes casual, lace up some all-white K-Swiss, if they are more formal, try a pair of dark brown Johnston & Murphy wingtips.  They are classic in any culture setting.  Socks or no socks, your decision

     Finish off the ensemble with a meat, appetizer, or beverage in your left arm, but leave your right hand available for handshakes and hugs.  This is after all, a celebration of thanksgiving for what we have, and who is in our lives.  Of course, none of this may apply to you or your household and may as well serve you better as a substitute when you run out of Charmin.  In which case I would recommend unscented baby wipes, they are softer and more efficient but...then again...that's just my humble opinion.

Speeding Tickets for All

We were on our way back from a visit with Joyce's folks this past weekend. They all get together a couple of times out of the year and we are either at the pool in the summertime with fruit and fried goodies or at a hall somewhere celebrating Christmas with...fruit and fried goodies. It was a perfect day for a drive as I recall. The sun was shining overhead with a slight breeze making it a 75 degree afternoon for the ride home. She was resting her eyes while I was surveying the countryside with the moonroof open, and the windows slightly cracked, and the Boston Acoustics pumping some 80's into a positively smooth atmosphere. I am so incredibly jealous of her sound system that mere words do not do it justice. 

Those kinds of moments don't come everyday, so when they do, much like I would imagine you do...I soak them up with style and then some. I was in a slight haze of bliss when I passed by a church with a sign which read, "Summer needs a speeding ticket". It caught me off guard at first, and then it hit me. We had just begun August. Somehow we were beyond the middle of the year of 2021. Can someone please tell me where the past 7 months went? I checked the glovebox and under the seat...which I imagine is where nearly everyone looks when they lost their sunglasses, keys, wallet, cheetos, etc. Where did summer go? It was here last time I looked. 

If you missed it, Angola, IN just went through a humorous Sign War amidst retailers and restaurants which was most amusing to watch on a day-by-day basis. I did not, however, see anyone post a sign about summer, that was...until now. And by now...it was too late. Normally, by this point I had consumed my weight in watermelons, swam my age in hours at the pool, and caught a sunset or two with my bride. Where did summer go? I for one, couldn't agree more with that sign. Summer should get a speeding ticket. And for that matter so should your first date with that special someone. Those tend to go a little too fast, do they not? And your wedding day deserves a speeding ticket as well; all that planning, and scheduling, and phone calls, and meetings, and tailoring, and food, and dresses, and parties, and friends, and memories, and within a matter of hours the wedding day is over, the vows have been shared and witnessed and the marriage has begun. A speeding ticket should also be administered to the honeymoon.  All the dreaming and planning, and traveling, and selfies, but before you know it you have returned from your travels and real life begins. I’ll raise a glass to speeding tickets for vacations, And longer weekends, and late nights with friends, and early mornings with my wife sipping coffee and listening to Norah Jones while watching the sunrise. More speeding tickets and penalties for birthday breakfast with your 16-year-old, date night with your daughter, and a midnight basketball game with your son. They should certainly cut a speeding ticket for that special tee time with your young daughter, that construction time with your boys building the lego battleships and heading into lego war. There should definitely be a speeding ticket for your anniversary celebration in Jamaica, for puzzle time during Christmas with the grandparents, opening gifts with your children on Christmas morning, for the fireworks show during your July 4th celebration, and quite frankly speeding tickets for the growth of your children; for time on the lake fishing with grandpa, and for going to the movies with dad. I think there should be speeding tickets for the time spent with grandma learning how to make her famous Ginger Crinkles; for Sunday afternoons getting ice cream, and for the last few moments with your parents on their bed surrounded by family. There should definitely be a speeding ticket for that. And while we're at it, let's write speeding tickets for those last few moments with man's best friend before he must be put down due to cancer, or another illness, or perhaps just age. A ticket should be written for the time we have with our son or daughter before we drop them off at college on their first day, for that time spent with the fellas before they go off to basic to protect our country, and for that last Sunset before we say good night. Yup, when it comes to those kinds of things, in my world, and I know I don't speak for everyone, I say let's write some speeding tickets and slow a few things down, but then again...that's just my humble opinion.