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I'm not normal. No. I mean, most folks watch the women's Olympic figure skating in the winter Olympics and just enjoy the grace of the "twizzles" and the "triple lutzes." Not me. I'm a story guy. So I'm sitting there mulling the stories of those skaters. And thinking, "We've got something to learn from her."
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Okay, I'm a typical American. I like football, baseball, basketball. Luge, bobsled, slopestyle, halfpipe - not so much. But, like millions of others, something about the winter Olympics drew me in to watch sports that I know little about. It's because of the drama; the human drama. The world's best on the world stage, with much of their life invested in what will be only minutes of their life, giving it all for the glory of winning or the agony of losing.
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All of a sudden The Son of God was in theaters all over the place. Actually, the movie by that title. And based on an opening weekend, at least, it was drawing a crowd. Of course it's not the first time something like this has happened. "The Passion of the Christ" turned out to be a blockbuster, too. Who'd have guessed that?
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Oh, for goodness sake, it was the polar vortex again! There I was, digging out the sweaters again, and turning up the thermostat to help the Propane Dealers Retirement Fund. And hoping the weatherman was wrong about snow and ice.
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Justin Bieber's been in the headlines an awful lot. Not so much for hit records any more, but for a lot of the trouble that he's gotten into. Well, I'm a grandfather, and so I thought there are some things I might like to write to him. It might go something like this: "I've got six grandsons, Justin. I can't believe it! One is almost your age.
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Clark Kent! What a wimp! I started watching Clark Kent when he was a "mild-mannered reporter (it said) for a great metropolitan newspaper." I was a kid then. Poor Clark! He always seemed pretty easy to push around, kind of Joe Ordinary; "Clark Can't" really. Of course there was a secret no one in Metropolis suspected. No one knew that underneath that ordinary exterior was his real identity-Superman! Clark knew that he was a whole lot more than meets the eye.
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You can become fairly addicted to a predictable television adventure series. You know how it's going to go. There's a victim you like; there's a villain you don't like, and there's a predicament. And you want to see the predicament resolved, but what if the predicament isn't resolved? You see this wrong sense of values as it goes down to three minutes, two minutes, one minute. You know it's going to end very quickly and it's getting worse. The villain you don't like is winning. The victim you really do like, well how are they going to fix it? And finally, one of the heroes appears on the scene and it's resolved.
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Billy was just about to celebrate his tenth birthday. It was the day of his birthday party, and Mom had made sure that all of his little friends were invited over. She came in the family van, drove up to the school and picked everybody up; went on home and all the kids stormed into the house with all their presents, and laid them on the table that had been set aside just for that. Then they went ahead and they played some great games, they played a little kick ball in the back yard, and they came in and they sat down for the goodies. The dining room was all decorated, and they sat around the table and in came the cake with ten candles on it. Sure enough!
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It was our grandson's two-year Christmas, and he was so much fun to watch. One day during the season, his mother unpacked the family Nativity Set for her and her boy to set up, and he loved it. They put up the manger, and Mary and Joseph, and the angels, and the shepherds. They put out everyone except the one figure they couldn't find. They couldn't find baby Jesus. Well, our grandson was pretty concerned about this missing person, so Mommy told him Daddy would look for baby Jesus when he got home from the office. A lot of hours passed. Our grandson heard Daddy coming up the back steps. He ran to the door and greeted his father with an impassioned two-word question, "Where's Jesus?"
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I just dropped off a Christmas poinsettia at a friend's house - she was getting home from the hospital today. Her husband died of cancer last week while she was laid up with back surgery. For her, I guess the words "Merry Christmas" will sound kind of hollow.
