Entitled!… Need I Say!… More…i

Hey!, John, You are the boss man. That was perfect. I am in much better stead, now, than I was_with or without Christmas, ever happening. I can go on, now, to the best part. The comings and goings of the next couple of weeks. You are a master of the understatement. The weight of the subtext is not that it isn’t worth it… It is that whatever wonderful or not happenings the Lord bestows on you and yours, there is always evidence of the truly deep love that is the subject of this time_ on a every leaf and every stem of every tree and wreath and poinsetta and cactus from here to Arizona and beyond.

Life is good. Life is great. It was greater, when we were young, because the buildup to the magic night was suspended in the air of the day and the time and the preparations and there was not the constant back and forth to the mall and the huge markets of today. Bikes came from the hardware store and pets from the pet store and candy from the candy store and instruments from the music store and every little town or big city had their version of the cohesive fabric and atmosphere of Main street and it was a wonderful life, and I didn’t compare my Christmas to the kid next door. If he got better stuff we would play over there, but I always got the biggest appliance boxes, and I always built the finest caves.

Thinking on the atmosphere of where you are with the presence of the snowy comings and goings and the extra preparations every time you go out. You could break down and get stranded, and it could be out in the middle of nowhere, and not that people don’t help, but the Christmas spirit always extends to the way we think of those, who have less, and how are they making it, and what kind of Christmas will their children have, and over the years we have found different ways of participating in that very important kind of giving…in goods or helping with agencies or church.

I have to say_ I haven’t_ for a few years sought out the opportunities to help with that kind gift gathering or fundraising, but in small ways, I still contribute and participate in the giving part of the season.

We have never lavished gifts on our children. We have built their lives with things that serve and raise the things they are passionate about to a level for the practical application of their spirit, Music, dance, paintballing, video games, photography, board games, toys-video games,dolls, sports equipment, kewpie dolls and chia pets.

I didn’t need to write all that…it,(writing of this), is still an exercise in trying to derive the evidence of the sharing and the gifting and the eating and the comraderie and the drunken relatives and broken plans and the stains on the carpet and the in-laws and out-laws, the divorces and the children, always the children.

Just like Santa Claus is thought to be real__ in the spirit of Christmas_for as long as the mystery stays unrevealed. Even when a child finally learns the facts,…the fact is: this… it is fun and Christmas wouldn’t be the same without ol’ Claus, so I have always been for all the good that comes of it. And furthermore, I think a part of the standard questioning of the Presidential candidates should be their true tales of what Christmas means to me. Of course, they would have an answer crafted by pollsters, who would test and focus to see what was playing in the streets.

I can imagine …. A global warning ‘truther’ commercial showing Santa being treated to ride down from the green lawns of the Arctic on a giant lawn mower pulling his Polar bear work party on a battery powered exercise machine that calculates how many minutes we have left before the melting icebergs become the flooding seas, which inundate every civilization on the face of the earth. Oh!, by the way, Santa no longer wears the red suit. He is tatooed in a hammer and
sickle motif, with a giant Citgo sign on his head. He speaks Spanglish in this quadrant, Russo-Yubangi in another, and indiffernt Manglish-Yap in the last, but far above at the top of the world all of the children on the planet would live in paradise, playing video games and watching old reruns of the Maury show and complaining about having to clean up their rooms.

While none of this is true….It proves I can warp out to phase shifter and truly the intent is in answer to your blessed craft. John, I just felt very Christmasy-ee and nothing can take that away.


“I have to go. I need to straighten this out,” he said. I just ripped that off the cop show playing in the adjacent room. It is apropos. Santa is the dark prince. He is not Jesus’brother. I love Santa. I love Christmas. I want to be happy. These are confusing times. A report on the religion of politicians, reads like, What’s in his box?
The guy in the lead now_ won’t release his sermons. Is there something in the air? Hilary will free up her records in 2012. Onerous bonerus
billsays so. Saving the world. It is the late show with Rosie o’donnell.

” You are going to do big things”….You’re the winner of the Boris Klepper Award”… The star, and now after all of that success, he quits, disappears, and goes awol.Next scene:Department store Santa goes missing with Playboy Playmate. “You made me do things that aren’t in my chararacter.” Boy Santa was attacked by a more mature Santa___
probably ‘girl cutie-time’s’ boyfriend. So is he missing or just not found and why is this noise in the room? And now the commercial for p.c.’s vs. macs. Life is good. I am a scanner.

Every show has it’s Christmas themed show. I think we were better off with Burl Ives and Frosty and ‘The Miracle on 34th Street’.

“Why couldn’t you stick around long enough to see this project through? I just wanted you to be proud of me. There is always a place for you here, Bear in mind, you did sign a confidentiality agreement.”
“I’d really like to help you.”

Project or no project. Santa is obviously a cloned marionette from a governtment lab. A secret government project. Sounds like the whole experiment…called the sixties. Paint it red. Gramscian drinkers and
Gamblers at no loss for words. Don’t want to be bad Santa. Only want to ride …’High in the saddle again. Make a bunch of money and split it… fifty-fifty. So I bet the farm and then that’s when things went south.

I can feel the sizzle in my gut, my toes at the end of my fingerling
like legs are warmer than usual, I hold my huge lips, up… off the dark surface that is bouncing small oily molecules across the stage. Life is not boring. It is exciting to feel the generally exhausting heat, that surrounds the pan. While I must keep moving… It brings my heavy lidded eyes to tears. There is a smell in the air and the dryness has caused all the moisture to leave my body. I am done … if I don’t give up being the egg in the pan.

What makes a day, and when do we move to the troubleshooting section? Coming up__’uninterupted news’ is certainly going to bail out the day.
“I want my money, not your e-true hollywood story.”
In theory…we came to an agreement.

John,I have not been smoking, and I was going to write about Christmas in that far away time, that well respected time of my youth. Today was good. I did not work… And I visited an endodontist who cut down on a place on my gum tooth structure, that made me think…How can this be happening! It must be something special dentists do, because he seems to know exactly how it goes. He told me I did well, and that it was a very nice Christmas gift, thank you very much. I’m all good. I know. It is the pain killers. I feel no pain. Life is good.

I also saw my daughter’s ballet company do excerps of “The Nutcracker”, at a local nursing home, this afternoon, and we went Christmas shopping til 7:30 or so, and then we picked, ‘K’, up from ballet class. Home for soft food and my foregotten meds. Nothing will ever be the same. Our snow is in the form of rain. I miss those New York winters, but if we go a few miles from here there is snow and the beat goes on, and I am insane to not have stopped, but I am here in support brother. Saving those trees with light waves and ultra cool storytelling. BeGone_BeGizmo,,,Merry Christmas,TR

|<   <<   >>   >|

by trust the rust (PM , CC ) on Friday December 14, 2007 @ 2:36 AM   (del)

I am having such fun this Christmas season. It’s great even if I don’t get to see my granddaughter perform in the Utica Players annual production of Scrooge. The Stanley theater is closed for repairs and no other place could be found to host Central NY’s best holiday feature. Beats Black Friday by a mile I believe. I’m sure there are those that don’t agree with me, I pity them somewhat.

Anyways, that and Christmas Eve with an Aunt and Uncle are the traditions of our family. I shall just have to be content with one this year.

No matter how much you messed up in life, your parents NEVER regretted adopting you. Trust me on that.


|<   <<   >>   >|

by Sherry’sCherries (PM , CC ) on Friday December 14, 2007 @ 4:09 PM

Oh I know it, Sherry. I was just waiting for someone else to say so. Merry Christmas – we’ll be writing that many times between now and then. I love the Stanley, as you must know, considering my interest in architecture and preservation. I haven’t been there since 2003 when I saw a mediocre Madame Butterfly, but climbing those stairs was sufficient consolation. I didn’t know it was closed. |<   <<   >>   >|

by John, the Squabbler (PM , CC ) on Friday December 14, 2007 @ 8:35 PM

The Stanley will probably be closed a year or more, they have found more money for renovations. The renovations do not include any “modern” changes to the theater. The Stanley Theater Group have a reverence for beautiful architecture. Merry Christmas to you, too.


|<   <<   >>   >|

by Sherry’sCherries (PM , CC ) on Friday December 14, 2007 @ 8:42 PM

Thanks, TR. That was bloody funny in the middle there. Your talent as a satirist should be further exploited. The global warming alarmists are actually more difficult to satirize than one might think because they do such an amazing job of it themselves. What can one add? The grizzled hobo with the sandwich sign reading “The End is Near” is now wearing posh suits and flying around the globe in Lear jets to be fondled by rock stars, but more to the point: although End Times scenarios are as common in our history as wars and incest – forgotten when they fall out of fashion and replaced immediately by the next without missing a breath – this one places humanity in the role of God much as Satan would have liked to share that power. What they fail to understand is that while God actually does share power, Satan never does. The belly laugh is that these clowns don’t believe in either of them. They really only believe in themselves. They believe that history began the day they were born and… as for death, they seem to believe they’ll somehow manage to skip it.

Well, in a sense Santa Claus is a brother to Jesus, and therefore mine as well if I am Christian, for we see the community of saints as family and the Communion of Saints as defenders of our unbroken marriage to Christ. Having said that, I will next write the first of several posts about Advent, and I did see in my travels today a so-called “Advent Calendar” which did not seem to contain any illustration at all relevant to Christmas. It was in fact a completely secular calendar which bore many likenesses of the Coca-Cola Santa Claus, pine trees, holly, and the like, and not a sign of God in it. Why on earth call it an Advent Calendar then? It’s more than a little queer.

|<   <<   >>   >|

by John, the Squabbler (PM , CC ) on Friday December 14, 2007 @ 9:06 PM

Your Christmas sounds delightful, Rosie. This is a bloody big world, though – quite exotic. I would enjoy that – I know it. ‘We get the sons we deserve’ – that’s me having an “Excalibur” moment – one of the greatest movies to see stoned that ever was made. That’s where that line is from. |<   <<   >>   >|

by John, the Squabbler (PM , CC ) on Friday December 14, 2007 @ 9:11 PM

POH, I thought of you when I posted that picture precisely because of the uncanny resemblance. Hubba hubba ding ding. |<   <<   >>   >|

by John, the Squabbler (PM , CC ) on Friday December 14, 2007 @ 9:14 PM

It was your “Proverbs something or other” that so impressed me. Are you and I going to have a conversation about the Hound of Heaven? Well, the saints must be having quite the party or I’m having quite the dream. That’s why the Squabbler and I love you, POH. You’re like a surprise within a surprise. Well, it is ack-choo-allie my own mother I hear but the Holy Spirit that gives her the voice and me the ears. That’s how I know Mom’s with the saints. |<   <<   >>   >|

by John, the Squabbler (PM , CC ) on Friday December 14, 2007 @ 9:29 PM

Oh Squabbler you ol’ flirt…………you thought the resemblance was uncanny, huh? It’s those legs isn’t it Squabblefooler? Yeah, I’m thinkin’ I should get a red pair of stockings and another pair of fuzzy, high heeled slippers again. I saw Mommy kissing SquabblerClaus….*wink* |<   <<   >>   >|

by prisonerofhope (PM , CC ) on Friday December 14, 2007 @ 10:08 PM

Proverbs 22:6.  |<   <<   >>   >|

by prisonerofhope (PM , CC ) on Friday December 14, 2007 @ 10:11 PM

Thanks, POH. |<   <<   >>   >|

by John, the Squabbler (PM , CC ) on Saturday December 15, 2007 @ 6:02 AM

I’d say yer welcome, but there’s nothing to thank me for. Now yer MOM……dat is aNOTHER story, isn’t it, Squabbledoodler? Me thinks the best thing you can do to thank HER is to “not depart from the way”, right?

So, there you are………and there you go.

Anyway, thanks fer sayin’ that there is some resemblance……………now that DESERVES a thank you!  

|<   <<   >>   >|

by prisonerofhope (PM , CC ) on Saturday December 15, 2007 @ 11:14 AM

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s