Andy was a logical choice to play the Christmas angel in our college's annual musical. Blonde-haired, light-skinned - and he should have worn his glasses.

The auditorium was packed. The antiphonal choirs were singing, "While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night." The shepherds and sheep were "sleeping" center stage. Then "the angel of the Lord appeared unto them." Actually, Andy stepped out onto the little platform above the shepherds.

Our pre-school grandson must have overheard the weather forecast last night. "Chance of rain - maybe a few snow flurries." That's all he needed to hear.

He began to pray fervently. "Jesus, please make it snow tomorrow." Flurries are barely snow, but apparently the mention of them is enough fuel for hope. And faith. Especially faith.

I won't be going to a Lady Gaga concert soon. But tons of people have and will. To some, the headline-generating singer is just another cultural side show. But at least for now, the entertainer known for her bizarre outfits and wild performances, is an A-list celebrity and a cultural icon.

And - it's all too easy to forget - she's a person. Like all of us, a person with a story. She's starting to tell some of that story. As I read part of it yesterday, I felt sad. For all of her stratospheric success in the spotlight, there's apparently a lot of hurt offstage.

I was in one of those "big box" stores over the weekend - and Santa was strolling the aisles wishing everyone a Merry Christmas. I told my wife, "It was fun to see Santa. I was just a little surprised to see him carrying pepper spray on his belt."

OK - I made that part up. But the thought never would have occurred to me, except for the crazy Black Friday headlines. People getting pushed, punched, sprayed, hospitalized, even shot - all in the frenzy to get some coveted item cheap.

We'll have Pilgrims on our table on Thanksgiving. Nice ceramic Pilgrims. They won't eat.

We'll also have pilgrims at our table. Living, breathing pilgrims. And, man, will they eat!

We're all pilgrims, whether we know it or not. No, not the kind that wear black hats, white bonnets or big buckles. But the kind William Bradford, the governor of the Plymouth colony, wrote about.

As the intrepid Mayflower travelers were preparing to leave England and head into the unknown, Bradford wrote about what was in their hearts. "They knew they were pilgrims, and looked not so much on these things, but lifted up their eyes to the heavens, their dearest country, and quieted their spirits."

In the midst of managing a war and a wild economy, the President of the United States will again this Thanksgiving step up to one of the most decisive responsibilities of his office. He will pardon a turkey. Actually, two turkeys. This is serious business. There's actually a backup turkey - just in case Turkey #1 isn't able to serve as - what one writer called - the ungobbled gobbler.

I can't remember the names of all seven of Snow White's dwarfs. I don't feel bad about that. But I do remember one. Grumpy. I've heard that the Grumpy shirt is one of Disney's big sellers.

I might know why. Grumpy's the mood of a whole lot of Americans these days.

Take the one-year-to-go state of the Presidential race. It doesn't matter if a politician is a Democrat or a Republican - most people are not very excited about anybody. We've got one group who wants us to stop spending money. Then there are some who want people to stop making money. Some don't like what the President's doing. Some don't like what Congress is doing. Many are not all that impressed with any candidate so far.

A few days ago, Penn State was just one college of many with a powerful football program. This past week, it's suddenly become the epicenter of a whole lot of outrage.

There are the screaming students, angry that Joe Paterno, their iconic coach - the "winningest" college coach ever - had been summarily fired. Then there are the parents, politicians and pundits who are enraged - as they should be - at young lives ruined by sexual abuse. Allegedly by an assistant coach who used a locker room as a place to horribly exploit young boys.

I was just doing the math. At one point in time, we had one grandchild. I couldn't believe my wife was old enough to be a grandmother! But then - within a matter of years, that one has become eight grandchildren!

But that's nothin'. In that same period of time, a billion more people have joined us on this planet. And this week, our "global village" just changed the population sign from six billion to seven billion.

When you're a kid, you're wet cement. Impressions get written so easily - and so deeply. Then they harden into the beliefs - or unbeliefs - of that kid-become-adult. Apparently, Steve Jobs was no exception.

Apple's communications genius/revolutionary, has been described as "intriguing, yet inscrutable." But as he battled cancer, he opened some windows into his mind and soul to the author writing his life story. According to the new biography that bears his name, Steve Jobs studied Zen Buddhism for years. A recent article in USA Today said, "He never went back to church after he saw a photo of starving children on the cover of Life and asked his Sunday school pastor if God knew what would happen to them. He was 13 at the time."