This post is being written on Easter Sunday and should be considered a tongue-in-cheek horror story from my youth. It will also explain to readers why I have never celebrated Easter as would be expected. In my early childhood I was always confused by my parents when my mother claimed Easter was a religious holiday but the rest of the family loaded me up with chocolate bunnies, candy eggs, and plastic eggs in the yard containing quarters. I was greatly confused but truly enjoyed all the candy that eventually rotted out a few of my teeth.
When I reached the age of ten they decided to take a different approach to Easter. I still got all the candy and eggs but they added a few things to the mix. I received four baby chicks that immediately ran behind the refrigerator and refused to come out. Eventually they did but within two weeks they had all passed away and never even got an offer of an Easter resurrection. I was truly sad but I hadn’t had time to develop much of a relationship with them. I did give them a silent prayer and a beautiful burial ceremony as my father tossed them into a trash can. I forgot to mention one other thing. Along with those chicks I was also gifted two small white baby rabbits which I immediately fell in love with. They were so damn cute and cuddly.
Now, let’s jump ahead three years. Those cute little bunnies had grown into two huge white rabbits that were so big we were forced build a hutch in the yard for them to live in. I still loved them both but my father did not. He constantly complained about them being a nuisance but I wouldn’t let him sell or give them away. I came home from school one afternoon prepared to do my homework and then have dinner. As I sat down at the table I immediately noticed a large plate of steaming meat and was told by my father to “eat up”. I asked what kind of meat it was and he told that the two rabbits would no longer be a problem. He’d killed my bunnies and served them to me for dinner. Needless to say I went to bed hungry that night. Happy Effing Easter!
That pretty much erased Easter from the list of holidays I chose to celebrate. Even now I cringe a little when my spouse has the grandchildren over for their annual Easter egg hunt. They love finding the hidden eggs especially the plastic ones with money in them. My only requirement is “No Bunnies or Chicks” chocolate or otherwise. I’d have terrible nightmares for a week.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t really dislike Christmas, but I certainly dislike the never-ending and relentless commercialization of what is supposed to be a religious celebration. I have to credit Amazon for doubling down on the holidays like never before because they’ve made it entirely too easy for people to overspend which in turn requires me to discipline myself like never before. Just too many gadgets, too many commercials and an endless supply of scammers who may be the hardest workers of all during the holidays. For every email I get from friends and family members, I get 100 from scammers and spammers. I’ve slowly been turned into a paranoid person like never before. It feels good to have the holiday over so I can get back to what I call normal (and I use that term loosely).
The post today will be taking a sharp left turn from the holidays to celebrate three things I love: poetry, young children, and Winter. Here are a few samples of great poetry by a few up-and-coming young poets.
The following story took place in Korea in 1967. It was my first Christmas without family and friends, and I really felt that loss. Here’s my story of how a few Korean friends helped make that Christmas one to remember . . .
I’ve talked a great deal over the years about my experiences while serving in the Army. As with any young man or woman serving outside of this country, being away from home and family during the Christmas season for the first time is difficult. In my case I was not only away from family, but I was also in a non-Christian country that seemed to be more than a little primitive to me.
Their religion was primarily Buddhist, and the Christmas holiday meant very little to them. They at times pretended to understand but that was motivated entirely by their desire to make money from visiting Americans.
At the time I was stationed in an area that was primarily populated by rice farmers living in small villages that dotted the northern countryside. There were no paved roads and most villages only had electric power for a few hours a day. For those of us from the United States it was like traveling back in time a hundred years.
I was living almost full time in a local village and actually had my laundry taken by a local woman to a nearby river where it was beaten on the rocks with wooden paddles and soap. That certainly took some getting used to for me. My Korean friends seemed totally befuddled by the entire Christmas holiday bro-ha-ha and sat politely and silently as I tried to explain it to them. They were interested in my stories of Christ and the Magi, but the virgin birth story had them all giggling a little.
Regardless I was determined to have a Christmas celebration so I asked a few of my them for their help in putting up a Christmas tree. They agreed to help but weren’t exactly sure what I was up to. As that project was progressing I had a little old mama-san ask me through an interpreter why would any sane person put a tree inside their home. I was hard pressed to answer her because I didn’t know the reason either. They continued to humor me as I explained other peculiarities that they couldn’t quite grasp.
A week or so later with two Korean friends I hiked up a nearby mountain near a small Buddhist temple to find a tree. We ended up dragging back the sorriest looking bush you could ever imagine, set it up in my hooch, and started to decorate it as best we could. There was a hand-made star on top of the tree (my doing) and a number of pieces of charcoal tied to the branches with twine (their doing). I never had that fully explained to me, but it was what they wanted to do. It had something to do with good luck or good pregnancy or something. Since we had no electricity, they suggested placing candles in and around the tree, but I nixed that idea immediately. The last thing I needed was to burn down my hooch and a portion of the village when my little, dry, and nasty looking tree, burst into flames.
I had some GI decorations I made from C-rations that looked stupid as hell, but the villagers loved it. Later we ate most of the decorations and drank a bottle of really cheap brandy that I’d brought along for the occasion. I presented them each with a small gift of candy and got a little kiss on the cheek from everyone.
It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t sophisticated, but it was heartfelt. Looking back over the years it remains one of the best Christmases I’ve ever had. It also helped endear me to the villagers and them to me. The following Christmas they even arrived with a strange collection of ornaments for my tree and couldn’t wait to once again hear my holiday stories.
To continue the Christmas theme for this week I thought a few comments and cartoons concerning the holidays was badly needed. This short poem from the late and great Benny Hill should start things off properly.
Roses are reddish
Violets are bluish
If it weren’t for Christmas
We’d all be Jewish.
🎅🏻
He was no Edgar Allen Poe, but he always seemed to get his messages across. These next two tidbits were a contribution by our oldest favorite writer and poet, Anonymous.
The three stages of a man’s life:
1. He believes in Santa Claus.
2. He doesn’t believe in Santa Claus;
3. He is Santa Claus.
🎄
“Christmas is Christ’s revenge for the crucifixion.”
⭐
And finally, a few quotes from celebrities or former celebrities.
“I stopped believing in Santa Claus when my mother took me to see
him in a department store, and he asked for my autograph.”
Shirley Temple
✨
Santa Claus has the right idea: Visit people once a year.”
My Christmas season has taken a nasty turn earlier than usual. Just when I thought it was going to be a fun holiday, I made the mistake of visiting a Walmart. Now I’m finally able to return to my man-cave after being bedridden for three days. Even the painkillers weren’t able to improve my attitude. I was smiling a lot, but it was entirely because of the drugs, not the Christmas season. I won’t get into the specifics of the injury but just let it be said that Walmart restrooms can be hazardous to your health if you’re not careful. LOL.
I’ll be spending most of the remainder of the Christmas season stumbling around with a cane being my ever-so-pleasant self with the help of a few cannabis gummies and additional painkillers. Unfortunately, I was also forced to miss out on all of the decorating being done in the house (I’m so sad!). My better-half turned into an insane Christmas elf and if you were stupid enough to stand anywhere near her you would have been immediately covered with tinsel, garlands and small twinkling lights. My Christmas in hell fantasy had finally come to life. LOL again.
I searched and found another Christmasy cartoon that made me smile a little. I hope it properly conveys my Christmas message in a manner you can all appreciate.
“A gift is pure when it is given from the heart to the right
person at the right time and at the right place, and when
we expect nothing in return.”
Bhagavad Gita
🤪🤪🤪
Joke of the Day #1
Three men died on Christmas Eve and were met by Saint Peter at the pearly gates. “In honor of this holy season,” Saint Peter said, “You must each possess something that symbolizes Christmas to get into heaven.” The first man fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a lighter. He flicked it on. “It represents a candle”, he said. “Very well, you may pass through the pearly gates,” Saint Peter said. The second man reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He shook them and said, “They’re bells.” Saint Peter said, “You may also pass through the pearly gates.” The third man started searching desperately through his pockets and finally pulled out a pair of women’s panties. St. Peter looked at the man with a raised eyebrow and asked, “And just what do those symbolize?” The man replied, “These are Carol’s.”
☘️☘️☘️
Limerick of the Day
Old Santa had such a lovely beard,
Who once said, “It is just as I feared!
Two owls and a hen,
Four larks and a wren,
Have all built their nests in my beard!”
🤡🤡🤡
Joke of the Day #2
One Christmas Eve, Santa was under a lot of stress. He and Mrs. Claus had just had a fight, it was nearly time to leave, and his sleigh wasn’t loaded, and the elves were talking about going on strike. Then an angel walked into his office and asked, “Hey, Santa, what do you want me to do with this Christmas tree?” And so was born the tradition of there being an angel on top of the Christmas tree.
As I’m sure you all know, people love beer. With the holidays coming up I assume that all of you beer fanatics out there will be hoisting a few cold ones while watching many of your favorite football games. I’m not a beer person but I’m sure if you consume enough it will make for an even happier holiday season. I understand it also helps, if done properly, to “zone out” all of the miscellaneous holiday conversations you would normally be required to respond to. I’ve been told many times by friends and acquaintances alike that “beer is better than women”. This posting was sent to me by a friend, but it should be read primarily by the men. I’m sure a few beer drinking women will be up in arms over this post but please don’t kill the messenger. I’m just forwarding this along to the men out there who will be in need of some comic relief in the coming months.
WHY BEER IS BETTER THAN WOMEN
You can enjoy a beer all month long.
You don’t have to wine and dine a beer.
When beer goes flat, you toss it out.
Beer is never late.
A beer doesn’t get jealous when you grab another beer.
When you go to a bar, you can always pick up a beer.
Beer never has a headache.
A beer won’t get upset if you come home with beer on your breath.
If you pour beer right, you’ll always get good head.
A beer always goes down easy.
A beer is always wet.
A frigid beer is a good beer.
You don’t have to wash a beer before it tastes good.
Beer doesn’t care when you come.
You always know if you’re the first one pop a beer.
Hell, I think I’m having a beer induced epiphany. After reading all of this interesting information I just might have to try a beer or two over the holidays. I never realized just how much better beer was than women until I read this list. As an aside ladies, if you think this list was misleading or untrue, I welcome any contributions from all of you as to why beer is better than men.
One Christmas morning, a cop on horseback is sitting at a traffic light and next to him is a little girl on her brand-new bike. The cop says to the young girl, “Nice bike you got there sweetheart. Did Santa bring that to you?” “Yes, he did,” she replied sweetly.
With a smile on his face, the cop says “Well, next year, tell Santa to put a taillight on that bike,” and he proceeds to hand the girl a $20 ticket. Before the cop rides off, she says “By the way, that’s a nice horse you got there. Did Santa bring that to you?” Playing along the cop says, “Yeah, he sure did.”
“Well, next year, tell Santa the dick goes underneath the horse, not on top.”
I’ve written many postings about the Christmas season over the years and as I recently read back through them, they appeared varied, somewhat interesting, and some even boring. I hate to admit that I was ever boring but there are times when Christmas can be a huge pain in the butt. I just don’t get the “buzz” like I did when I was a kid and it still amazes me that some people (without kids) turn into Christmas fanatics and go wild over it. I loved Christmas as a young child but each year I lost a little of the holiday magic everyone seems to be searching for. It saddens me a little but “it is what it is”. The only real enjoyment for me now is when the young grandchildren are running through the house wearing Christmas apparel and having a grand old time. I thoroughly enjoy living vicariously through them.
After my last two years of medical problems, I didn’t feel things would ever be getting any better. The years, 2019 and 2020, drained away what little fun I had left in me. If not for my better-half and a few other close family members I might not have survived to enjoy Christmas 2021, for that I am eternally grateful.
All of that being said, it’s time to prepare for the holidays once again. With the pandemic still gumming up the works I’m not sure what direction to take. Now that I’m cancer free you’d think I’d be ready to celebrate the hell out of just about anything. After the experiences of the last two years I’ve entered a phase in my life that was totally unexpected. I’ve become calmer, more thoughtful, and seriously introspective.
The grandchildren are no longer toddlers and are becoming actual people. They now can speak their minds and voice their feelings like never before. While I find that refreshing it makes my preparations for the holiday a little more troublesome. My education continues but now they are the teachers and I’m the student.
I now know more about Pokémon and the thousands of cards involved with that experience. It’s supposed to be a game but I have no idea what the rules are. I think he’s just messing with me because he seems to win every game. Which cards are rare and which ones are crappy, who knows?
I’ve seen the Alvin & the Chipmunks movie a hundred times and have been hearing that theme song in my head for five years. I find myself humming it at the oddest times, in the shower and while I’m cutting grass. Don’t even get me started about “Lady and the Tramp”.
I’ll bet you any amount of money that I know more about the cartoon “Larva” than anyone you know over the age of 15. I actually found myself purchasing a “Larva” tee shirt three years ago that the grandson wanted to give to his grandmother. Apparently, it was a bigger hit than I anticipated since she still wears it occasionally in odd moments.
I’ve also been coerced into becoming a soccer fan. I’ve hated soccer with a passion and have avoided it for most of my life. Not anymore unfortunately. Both grandsons have decided that soccer is a great game but it’s always much more fun when family members come to the games to cheer them on. So, my newest job is the official family sports photographer. I get to sit and watch groups of five-six-seven-eight-year-old boys and girls playing “at” soccer. Just shoot me now. It’s finally improving this year since they’ve added a real game to their curriculum, baseball. This I actually enjoy watching.
I guess I should be happy. Those boys have enough energy for us all and I think it’s rubbing off on me a little. They now have me looking forward to a Christmas I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to celebrate.
Another week coming to an end and we’re already halfway through the month of September. The summer of 2016 went by in the wink of an eye and the holidays are again rushing towards us. I wonder to myself which retailer will strike the Christmas colors first. I suspect that as in years past Walmart will be the one to get things rolling 15 minutes after the Halloween holiday is over. That in itself is supremely depressing but it seems to get earlier and earlier every year regardless of how much we complain.
Yesterday I received this list of companies that have already made it known that Black Friday will begin for them by being open for business on Thanksgiving Day. I guess that’s the new approach to companies who put their employees families second on their list of priorities. That seems to be the ongoing retail way of thinking these days and unfortunately I can bitch about it all I want but no one in the retail establishment gives a damn what I think or what you think. Look at the upside . . . you’ll have a great place to spend your holiday if you get sick of eating Thanksgiving dinner, spending time with your family, or God forbid actually relaxing and enjoying the day. The almighty buck rules all. Make sure to thank these folks:
J.C. Penny
Kohl’s
Toy’s r Us
Target
Walmart
Sears
Macy’s
Belk
Sports Authority
h.h. greg
Dollar General
Best Buy
While I write this posting I have a Christmas wish that will never be fulfilled. I wish that the population of the millions of so-called consumers in this country would pull their collective heads out of the sand and stop allowing retailers to continue to think that the “great unwashed” are that easily controlled. It’s a lazy population that lets celebrities, the media, politicians, and big business tell them how to think, act, what to buy, and how to be politically correct at all times.
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