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A long time ago, my wife and I were vacationing in a mid-south state, and she convinced me to explore this back road. It was just marked "Erbie." It's a town. We never did get to see it, though. For the first time that day I looked at my gas gauge (duh!) and the needle was on the big red E.
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You can become fairly addicted to a predictable television adventure series. A lot of them have a formula. 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, suddenly, it's resolved.
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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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Like most Americans, I just about O.D. on the news. No matter what it's about! It could be news about elections, or some economic problem, or eruptions in the Middle East. It's all important, but it's not exactly in the "joy to the world" category.
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Christmastime is kind of like time to get things in shape, especially around the house. Most of us become very motivated when December arrives in terms of getting things cleaned up. We dust corners and clean areas that haven't been touched for like eleven months. Trouble spots in the carpet that had gone unnoticed, suddenly we notice them and we work on them. That wall in the kitchen that needed some touch-up paint, it becomes a priority. We begin decorating things! Houses are suddenly in better shape than they've been in all year, especially since last Christmas. Christmas is shape-up time for houses...and people.
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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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It was like a dream come true. I'll tell ya', it was right after Christmas. I was in Manger Square in Bethlehem! Near the entrance to the Church of the Nativity, which is built over the cave believed to be the birthplace of the Son of God.
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When our son was in college I think his favorite Christmas song was "I'll be Home for Christmas." That might be every college student's favorite song. He started counting the days, the hours, and the minutes until it was time to go home. But none of our kids have ever experienced anything like what my wife called her loneliest Christmas.
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Well they called it "Avalanche" in one paper, "Tsunami" in another. "A cultural watershed moment." "A day of reckoning." Some of the words the news used to describe the seasons of relentless accusations of sexual misconduct by powerful men.
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A dog and bubbles: ah, there's an amusing combination! I think my wife discovered this when our little Shih tzu dog was just a puppy, a new member of our family, and she was kind of still discovering her world. My wife went out and bought one of those containers of bubbles, you know the one with the little wand.
