I Write The Songs

I met with Ruth this evening and we recorded 9 little ditties for her Mom-O-Gram fundraiser for her Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk. The video footage is great, as I had only rough ideas when I left the school at 4:50 or so, and only added the e-mail she'd sent me after our brainstorming meeting where we figured out what tunes to put with the different categories of Singling Telegrams (Working Mom, Soccer Mom, Mr. Mom, etc.) when I stopped by my house to find something halfway suitable to wear for the video shoot (I went with the 1980s Student Council Guy look, as my tux was in no way ready to wear). It's not TOO obvious that the songs aren't super-familiar to me.

I left my house around 5:15 or so, and on the 45 minutes (or was it an hour) trip, I managed to create five or six songs. Luckily traffic was awful, so I had plenty of time to quickly write a line before traffic moved again.

Then, at Ruth's, I whipped up the remaining three or four songs.

Ruth's reaction to me doing this leads me to believe this isn't something large amounts of people do--or maybe enough people don't do it well and thus it seems impressive when someone does it at least relatively well.

I am cursed or blessed with a rhyming and somewhat rhythmic-oriented brain. I can't hear a "doo dah" without proclaiming it to be a "doo dah" and then singing it to the tune of the opening of Camptown Races. Maybe that's what it is.

I don't know. It's odd. And as far as gifts go, what's the point? I mean, other than writing Mom-O-Gram ditties for your sister's fundraiser.

Anyway, that was my evening. I got a free meal out of it (thanks, Ruth--forgot to say that before I left), and now we have funny footage of me acting like going all mushmouth over whole phrases will work as a way to cover the fact I've forgotten the words.

I'm off to bed to watch Lost, and then try to sleep. Tomorrow I cook for TNT!

Thoughts While Babysitting

I really need to get on here more often, as I've missed the window for a few posts, least of which being my yearly rant about "Take Your Child Out Of School Day". I won't re-hash. Just look up last year's rant.

Tonight I'm babysitting the girls. I should come up with another nickname, as "the boys", "the girls", and "the kids" doesn't work any more ("the boys" are outside my circle of folks I see regularly). Ah, it's good to be reminded that you're on the outs with someone.

Anyway, I'm babysitting the girls tonight, because Ben & Tricia are at some get-gussied-up function of some sort. I was sitting on Livy's bed watching the two of them brush their teeth and generally prepare for bed when my over-active imagination imagined them about twelve years from now, standing side by side in front of those dual sinks putting on their make-up for the prom.

Then I imagined that I was talking with them then, as I was as this imagination-fest was going on, and in the imagination-fest I was telling them that I was remembering this random night, so many years ago, when they were both so small and precocious, where they were happily brushing their teeth and telling me all sorts of wild tales about how sometimes they're allowed to do the teeth-brushing routine in reverse order, and so on... and as I re-read this run-on sentence, I realize you might need a road map. Take a moment. Draw one if you need one.

Then the Hallmark moment was over, and I remembered that Jordan is only 12, and I know I've forgotten moments where I sat watching her when she was this age or younger, thinking, "I'll remember this when she's older, and blah blah blah." By the time Jordan is 17 or 18, I'm bound to remember even less.

And then, of course, as is my way these past few years, the newer part of me steps in to clear his throat and say, "As if you're going to live to see their Junior/Senior Prom Night, dufus."

Well, he has a point. I'm not the healthiest man alive. Not even on the top gazillion list, methinks.

(And I get that charlie-horse feeling in my leg as I type this, as if to back it up the sentiment--no worries, folks who know the significance of that... I've had this feeling often, and I'm fairly sure it's just a small charlie horse.)

So, shaken from my moment, but still conversing with the girls as if this whole other world didn't exist in my brain for however-many seconds, I realize that if I'm here, maybe I'll remember this night if there's a blog entry about it.

And here it is.

Nature Abhors A Vacuum

Yeah, I haven't posted for a while. It seems that when you try to free up some time because your "real job" work is suffering from your "support your real job" job hours, things rush in to take up that free time.

And that's okay... except I want to sleep all the time.

Let's see... since "Surprise!", lots has happened...

For instance, I've started rehearsals for the next show. I'm thinking I might audition for a solo part, but we shall see what my throat thinks about that.

The next time I went to that pharmacy to get... I don't remember what now... probably some sleep aid or another--anyway, the next time I went there, that male Ashley was working, so I just asked if his mother was a big "Gone With the Wind" fan or what. Turns out Grandma was. Apparently I was the first person in his life to ever get that connection--which says a lot about my age, as I don't know that they run "Gone With the Wind" yearly like they did when I was a kid. (That and "Wizard of Oz" got played on broadcast stations yearly--remember that?)

We gave the MAP test at school. I have things to share about that, but I want to wait until the we're out of the testing window before I do--I think it ends this week.

I joined a church--but those of you who got the e-vite already knew that. I was sorta crazy-nervous, and I didn't expect the awesome feeling one gets when staring at a congregation of people that is welcoming you. It was more than I'd expected, all around.

Kurt Vonnegut died. I'll have to prepare a special post about that sometime when I have the time to really get into it. I've re-read "Timequake", and last night I picked up "Galapagos" just to move it, but ended up starting re-reading it.

I really love his writing.

Then there was the shootings in Virginia... but I don't know much about it. I figure it isn't news until they somehow tie it to Anna Nicole.

But, kvetching about what passes for news aside, I don't have a lot of reaction about it. I think my crazy brain deals with things by noticing strangeness.

Most of which I won't delve into here and now.

And beneath it all there's the knowledge that there are over 30 families somewhere in the world dealing with a whole lot.

Also, I got my taxes mailed off on time.

Sorry, couldn't end on the somberness.

Surprise!

I knew Ben & Tricia had to switch their tickets to the Saturday evening performance, but I forgot to ask if they were sitting in the same spot.

I didn't see them in their regular spot, so I assumed they were somewhere that was else--but still in the theatre.

As the evening wore on, I became convinced they weren't there, based on no hard evidence but my inabilitiy to spot them in a huge theatre.

Afterwards, I waited for them out front, and got far fewer "why didn't you have a solo" comments from passers-by than my ego would have liked (but my ego is an insatiable critter, so no amount would have been enough), and eventually decided they weren't there for real. I even checked my voice mail at home, in case there was a "We aren't there, in case you're wondering" message.

I went inside, and some person I don't know Pilsbury Dough Boyed me to get my attention, because Patrick and Alice asked him to.

Surprise! Patrick and Alice used Ben and Tricia's tickets, because Ben and Tricia needed to be somewhere that was else--the outside the theatre variety.

So hooray! Alice hadn't been to that theatre since she went to see a burlesque show there in 1971. She enjoyed herself immensely.

I mean last night, not in 1971.

Then we went to Ruby Tuesday and had a late dinner (I'm not about eating the afternoon before a show, and as my binge the night before meant I didn't wake up until Saturday afternoon, I didn't eat all day).

And now here I am writing blog entries while I wait for laundry to finish up.

Mega-exciting life.

However, Spring Break (which was this past week) has allowed me to make sure the Simply Sleep is non-addictive, and allowed me ot get 10- and 12-hour nights of sleep. Okay, early-morning-to-mid-afternoons sleep.

Monday begins the "downhill slide" to the end of the year. Two weeks, MAP tests, then the end of the year officially begins.

Hooray!

Ashley

Last night (meaning Friday night) at P.J., Jin asked me how to spell "Ashley". With his accent, both I and a co-worker thought he said "actually".

He said, "No, the name, 'Ashley'."

I laughed, because I'm a teacher, and you can ask any teacher how to spell the name "Ashley" and they'll let you know there's more than three ways to spell it--if not more than ten ways to spell it.

So Jin said, "For a man, how do you spell it?"

And then a discussion on whether or not a man can be named "Ashley" ensued, where I pointed out one of the main characters in Gone With the Wind was named "Ashley", and he was a guy.

Then, after I got off work tonight/this morning, I stopped by a nearby pharmacy to get stuff for this stupid toothache issue which is the new light of my life, and after spending forever looking for what I needed and getting a few other things I forgot I needed, I went to the register.

And who should show up there to ring me up but a guy named "Ashley".

Of course, I had to channel Patsy.

"Ashley, huh? Did you order pizza yesterday?" I asked. Unfortunately I have no children to be mortified by my behavior (and I wouldn't have had them with me out shopping at 12:50 in the morning even if I did have them), so it was not a true Patsy moment (not that she'd have her kids out shopping at 12:50 in the morning, either).

Of course, he looked kinda surprised, but admitted he did, in fact, order pizza yesterday. I gave an even shorter version of the conversation at work the day before in explanation as to how I suspected this about him, but without mentioning Gone With the Wind, which is unfortunate, because I now have this Patsy-like urge to go back and ask him if his mom was a fan of the movie--or maybe the book.

I walked out of the place thinking it was a very Patsy moment. And it was.

Weekend In Omaha

Okay, it was actually about 21 hours in Omaha, but it still counts.

Got to see Casey at his going-away shindig, as evidenced here:



Behold: The January 29th Club

My eyes are bugging out because I was telling Karen (who had my camera at that moment) how Cheryl bugged her eyes out when I complained that she had blinked in the previous picture. Karen, having no patience for the end of my narrative goings-on, snapped the picture in mid-story (and mid-demonstration).

My jacket looks awful. I should have it burned.

Anyway, Casey left yesterday. I'm going to give it a couple of days and call Karen to see what (if anything... I don't know how the military works, beyond the whole... okay, I don't know how the military works) she's heard from him.

Apparently he joined the Navy, not the Air Force. I wasn't sure whether I should feel better or worse about this. I've been told I should feel better about it--and if you have information to the contrary, keep it to yourself.

In the non-Weekend In Omaha section of the news, I haven't worked this week because I had to supervise two nights of 7th Grade Readers' Theatre performances.

About 70% of them spoke up this time, so it was more enjoyable than usual.

Okay, I'm off to bed. Hope everyone is having a great whatever it is you're having.

From Our "Circle Of Life" Department: Tommy Moore Is Dead

Tommy Moore died Sunday. I don't have any details other than what they had in the obit at hannibal.net.

It sorta broke my heart to hear about his death. Wade called tonight just as I was delivering a pizza, and as it was slightly before 7:00 I figured I'd wait until after 7:00 to call him back (and thus avoid using minutes), but by the time 7:00 arrived I was back at the store, and then I forgot to call him until I was on my way home.

He asked if I'd gotten his e-mail, and I hadn't, so he told me over the phone. And, again, it sorta broke my heart.

Don't get me wrong; Tommy and I weren't best buds or anything. But, in addition to attending Junior High and High School with him, we spent some time at Center Elementary together. We were two of... what, maybe 30? You spend seven years in a classroom with the same 30 kids or so, you feel as if you know them very well--even if that was--brace yourselves--28 years ago.

Tommy wasn't in our class from kindergarten on, however. He started going to Center in 5th grade, I think--maybe earlier. He was a big boy. He was as big as I thought I was.

He was the first person who ever told me what was obviously a complete and total insane lie where I thought, "That is obviously a complete and total insane lie." The lie had to do with Linda Carter having a wardrobe malfunction in an episode of Wonder Woman, and her subsequent running "offstage" while covering her nakedness.

The "offstage" part is what cued me in to the total-lie-ed-ness of his story. Any 5th-grader knows they don't have a "stage" in a television series. The "stage" is what they have in the gym.

I remember being totally taken aback, trying to figure out if it was my responsibility to say, "That's such a total crock! That didn't happen!" or if I should just say "Wow," and move on with my life. I chose the latter. Come to think of it, that was a very formative moment for me.

And the point of that story isn't to say, "What a liar-head that Tommy was," as we were in fifth grade at the time...

In high school--or maybe jr. high--Tommy went out for basketball. One of the coaches called him "Massive", and this kinda cruel nickname stuck. I, thinking I was as large as he, was never really comfortable using the name.

Now I'm left wondering how he felt about the nickname--both at the time and as an adult. Odd how you think of things you'd like to ask after it's too late to do so, isn't it? Or is that just run-of-the-mill human nature?

Tommy was a pretty nice guy in high school. I have vague memories of not-as-nice moments, but nothing abnormal for a adolescent male in the 1980s.

He was so excited about our 10-year reunion... I got in touch with him and he ran with the ideas we'd discussed on the phone. He'd lost a lot of weight and seemed to really have his life together. I'm thinking that reunion in 1995 is the last time I saw him. We had a night gathering at what used to be the Holiday Inn in Hannibal. We also had a picnic out at Mark Twain Lake. He organized the food was very much the in-control guy.

So, based on that reunion and the phone calls preparing for it, last I knew, he'd turned out to be a pretty great guy.

I'm trying to see if I can remember all of my classmates who have passed away since graduation... Brian Schoeneman passed away from the same thing that almost killed me about a week beforehand back in 2005. Chad Laird died several years back. I'm thinking that's it... at least the ones I know of.

How fun to be the age where you start keeping track of who from your childhood is now gone.

Anyway, Tommy's moved over to the "moved on" column. And it sorta breaks my heart.

Okay, Not ALL Bad

For instance: Joy Joy Joy!

David, Julie, and new arrival Tyson James.

I forgot to mention that in my update. I was too busy being down, and by the time I remembered I forgot to mention it, it was past my bedtime!

Nothing New To Report

By popular (okay, by Andy's) demand: an update.

Nothing new to report.

Which is actually to say there's lots to report, but it's all bad and sucky, and what's-the-point-esque. I was feeling all forward-motion-y in my life there for a while, and now I don't.

I had a whole thing I thought about posting about this horrible and non-humorous experience I had while delivering pizzas a few weeks back, but it was too upsetting/depressing/whatever to actually type about.

I also had this whole thing to type about my mama and the "n" word, as NYC or somewhere was going to outlaw use of the "n" word, but that was very backwards-looking and somewhat upsetting/depressing/whatever to write about.

I had a bowling tournament and a visit with my niece and great-niece in Omaha to type about, and while that wasn't upsetting (except for maybe the blizzard) or depressing (except for maybe the constant sense that my life is and forever shall be in a holding pattern), I hadn't had time to write about it.

There was that crazy weather from the end of February, but Mark Twain would just complain that everyone talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it. Well, he would if he wasn't busy with the being dead and all.

And then there was this whole thing at school on Friday that was probably the most upsetting/depressing of all, because it demonstrates the problem I'm sensing at school right now, which makes me want to consider--at the very least--going to another school in the district... which is just stressful, because change causes stress, etc.

So, there's the update: things have changed, but, essentially, everything is the same.

Happy March, Everyone!

"In Case Someone Needs To Find My House At Night For Some Sort Of Emergency, Like Pizza Delivery" Tip #4

Lighting is important.

However, lighting isn't an "on" or "off" proposition. It's like all the stuff that breaking-and-entering chick, Goldilocks, stumbles across. There's two extremes and just right. Actually, there's even more than that, so it's even more complicated than Goldilocks' world.

First, if you're expecting someone, it's common courtesy to leave the light on for them. And if the bulb is out, it's common courtesy to change it.

Now, if you're deciding to put numbers up on your home, don't put them up until you've had an evening to think about it. By "think about it", I mean "turn on the porch light, go outside, and see where the less-shadowy bits of wall are". It really does more harm than good to turn on a porch light if the fancy "old fashioned street-lamp" style fixture casts shadows over the numbers. You'd be better off leaving the light off, at that point, as it might make the numbers easier to read. The shadow issue is what makes this slightly more complicated than too hot/too cold/just right.

Also, if you insist on having really bright outdoor lights, don't put the numbers too close to where the light source(s) is (are). Number too close to a bright light can be just as difficult to read as numbers that are in shadow... and what's worse, shining a flashlight (or headlights) at this problem doesn't help.

Seriously, use some sort of temporary method to put up your numbers, then have someone who doesn't know your house number drive by slowly and tell you what numbers seem to be on the side of your house. If they're able to read them, permanently affix the numbers to your home, and never change the wattage or the light fixture of your porch light.

Speaking Of My Birthday...

The Friday before, my bowling team put together a little birthday celebration for during-bowling... which involved lots of cupcakes that I ended up taking home, I guess because I'm not quite to the level of have "as a house" after my "big".

I don't remember the night in great detail, as it was a very celebratory evening, but I met new people and amazed them with my social skills, I'm sure.

Also, on the evening of my birthday, we had an event at our school, and a couple of girls did the Mr. Riggs' motions (with lip-synching) and dance to They Might Be Giants' "Older", which is the birthday tradition in my classroom.

And Mr. Anderson made his famous ice-cream dessert, which is something I look forward to on birthdays.

All this meaning: I didn't mean to imply I haven't had much of a birthday celebration in that last post. I just mean I'm still expecting the one we discussed earlier. Tricia, are you getting this? :-)

Okay, I'm off to post more pics over at STILL: Life.

The Return Of STILL: Life

If you're wondering, apparently about 191 or 192 pictures is the limit that I can put on that blog... at least with what I have on the other blogs.

Thus the lack of pictures for a few weeks over there. I've put the next 10 up, and plan to put another 10 up later today (or more likely tomorrow), and another 10 up by Saturday (and that would include Saturday's). Once I'm caught up I'll just delete the oldest entry before putting a new one up.

And I'm going to get an archive set up somewhere. I've saved the comments, and figured I can just put a record up on some other free site.

What have we missed while I've been living life? Um... well, my birthday came and went. If I'm not mistaken, the actual "party" (read: small gathering of some friends and their kids for dinner and perhaps board games (okay, I'm just putting in a plug for "I hope there are board games")) is yet to come... at least, at one point there was talk of this event happening after Patrick has returned... and he has returned.

Also, if it's going to be a Saturday evening, I need to know about 10 days before so I can let the Papa know. Or the manager of the Papa. That's a message to those of you on the planning committee.

Okay, there's other stuff to write about, but I'm cold and sick and need to get ready to go to the doctor. Oh yeah, that's something else. I'm sick. Blah.

Anyway, go look at pictures.

The Top Ten Reasons Why I'm Glad I'm Single And Live Alone

#10--I can sleep in without anyone milling around and waking me up on accident.
#9--What I want for supper is what's for supper.
#8--The only person who might complain about me not doing the dishes is the same person who got them dirty and still isn't doing the dishes, and thus has no room to complain.
#7--I don't have to worry or get suspicious when I'm the only one home at 1:00 in the morning.
#6--There's room in my passenger seat for my CDs, and a spot between the passenger seat and the door that's handy for that large QT glass I often have with me.
#5--While I'm out at 1:00 in the morning, nobody is at home worrying or getting suspicious.
#4--Nobody complains when I want to watch Buffy DVDs AGAIN.
#3--There's never a wait to use the restroom at home.
#2--I only have to schedule the holidays with my family.
#1--I have all these married/coupled friends who constantly remind me through word and deed that I'm lucky to be single and live alone.

You know, just in case that last post left anyone thinking I felt otherwise. The discomfort mentioned in that post stems from being somewhere where everyone else is wrapped up in something I'm not so interested in--like being stuck at a sci-fi convention when you abhor science fiction. While you may have a good time with the friends you're there with, once the costume competition starts, you're apt to leave, and apt to do so in a foul mood.

Again, just to clarify.

Happy New Year!

Welcome to 2007, everyone.

I just posted this as a comment elsewhere, and thought I'd discuss it here.

My New Year's Eve tradition has for years been to attend a party, feel uncomfortable at midnight when everyone is kissing their love, accept kisses from the folks who feel they must then kiss everyone in the room, then give it about fifteen minutes before leaving for the sour-mooded drive home.

I really should figure out to just stay home and go to bed early.

I do have fun at the parties, I must say. It's just the cruddy ending that I hate.

Anyway, no resolutions here, except to try to do what I can with what I have where I am.

That and win Powerball.

Happy 2007. May your days be merry and bright!

On This, The Sixth Day Of Christmas

Over on Andy's Blog, he linked to this post on Adam Mustoe's blog. To clarify, I have no idea who this Adam person is, other than the information available about him in his profile. But, he had some thoughts on the holiday, and since reading them... I guess on the 24th or so, I have been mulling them over.

Somewhere in the past... I don't know... thirty years or so--I'm 39 now, and I think Wade spilled the beans about you-know-who when I was younger than 9, so we'll go with about thirty years or so...

Where was I? Oh yeah. Anyway, somewhere in that time, Christmas has become--hokey as it sounds--more about the giving for me.

I don't know that Mom or anyone else did anything to create that in me. I've been trying to trace this back into my history somewhere, but nothing is standing out. It seems important to figure it out, because I think if you love your kids, you'll teach them to find the joy in giving so that Christmas still has a sort of... well, magic isn't the word I mean... but it's close. We'll go with "joy".

Of course, if your kids grow up to be dirt poor and can't afford to give anyone anything a particular Christmas, that Christmas is gonna kind a stink, but there's always next year, right?

There's just a sort of joy associated with thinking of your friends and loved ones, trying to figure out what they would like, and then setting it up just right. I know some people hate doing all that--especially the picking the perfect gift part--but, when I have the means, I love doing that.

The best gift I ever gave--at least that I can think of right now--is Doris Day's holiday CD. I gave it to my Secret Santee out at MCM&VCo. during the run of "A Christmas Bette" back in... whenever the heck that was.

Jon Copeland was a huge Doris Day fan, and had mentioned that, although she had recorded lots of holiday songs over the years, alas, she did not have a holiday album.

Amazon.com was young back then, and I don't remember how it came to pass--either I did a search for "Doris Day" and "Christmas" on a whim that maybe Jon was unaware of the CD's existence, or if I was just searching for ideas of what to get him next, but there it was: Doris Day: Personal Christmas Collection.

I didn't have a debit card. I had to mail a check to amazon.com and then hope against hope that it got here before Christmas.

It arrived, but I wanted so badly to see his face when he got it. This is very hard to pull off in the course of a MCM&VCo. show, because you don't want anyone to see you place the gift, and you have to plan it so that they're next going to be in that spot at the same time you are. Also, if you're staring, it's kinda obvious.

I enlisted the help of Marcie Ramirez. I asked her to announce in the dressing room, while Jon was off somewhere else, that everyone watch Jon as he arrives behind the curtain for the water glass number, because his Secret Santa was going to put a gift on his water glass table, and wanted to watch his reaction.

So, as we carried the tables onstage, I surreptitiously placed the unwrapped CD on his table. We all watched as Jon arrived, and I would not trade watching his expression for most anything in the world.

That--to me, anyway--is how to keep some Joy in Christmas.

Even this year, when things were... um... lean... I still have the memory of that performance and Jon's sheer joy at seeing that, not only did Doris Day have a holiday collection, but he was now the proud owner of it!

So, yes, hokey, but for me the joy comes from the giving. Of course, I love to get stuff, and it's always fun to see what people find for me... so don't stop giving, those of you who do.

It has just hit me that maybe one of the reasons I like to give is connected to why I like to perform. I like entertaining people. Giving a great gift is a form of entertaining them. And if you're there, it's not unlike performing onstage--you get immediate feedback as to how you are doing.

Some day--maybe next life--I'm going to have holiday money all saved up in plenty of time to shop (my life for years has been: December Paycheck the last day before break, then rushed holiday shopping, keeping in mind that January bills must also be paid). When this happens, it's going to be the best flippin' Christmas ever!

"Next year all our troubles will be out of sight," indeed!

P.S.: If this post has convinced you that the joy is in the giving, here is my amazon.com wish list and a page on my website about gifts I'd enjoy.

I kid. I just felt I had to end it that way, strictly for reasons of comedic closure.

"In Case Someone Needs To Find My House At Night For Some Sort Of Emergency, Like Pizza Delivery" Tip #3

I touched on this last time, but I'll go a bit more in-depth here. Reflective material is not helpful at night. I realize this might seem counterintuitive, but it's true. Unless I'm turning the car and pointing the lights at your house or mailbox or wherever you've put these reflective numbers, all I get are flashes of the numbers as my lights brush up against them and say, "I do beg your pardon" before moving on.

Heck, sometimes I can point my flashlight directly at them and still can't make them out... the angle is off, or something just isn't right. The force is not with them. Much more helpful than reflective material is a good contrast between the numbers and whatever is behind the numbers. That helps them stand out in low light.

And a freebie with this tip: One easy test to see if you have easy-to-read numbers--and thus an easy-to-find home--is to ask several people who don't know where you live to find your home by consulting a map before leaving to get there--no checking the map once they've left for your place, and make sure it's a night-time trip. And pick friends who aren't too nice to point out ain't no way nobody can find your house because they can't read your house numbers (or your neighbors').

Holiday Catch-up

Jodan, her eyes all aglow with the holiday spirit... and flash-induced red-eye.

Adam, Allison, and Wade open gifts and point out the handsomest person in the room, which is apparntly the cameraperson.

Here's Dane with our great-nephew, Zach. Dane's in mid-shush, as I recall.

On the evening of the 22nd, Ruth drove me and all of our gifts across the state to Center. We found the kitchen still in mid-remodel (and I'll leave it at that, as Wade has received enough ribbing on the topic), but by the next day it was looking much better. However, that night I had to start the brine for the turkey, and I did it amid the remodeling.

Leslie and Jordan arrived in Center not long after Ruth and I, and I introduced Jordan to the meaningful and long-standing Riggs family holiday tradition of putting the little bird lights on the ceramic tree, which I had grown tired of standing there and doing.

As is always a holiday tradition, several trips to Hannibal were made. I needed a bucket in which to brine the turkey, and made a trip late on the 22nd (or early on the 23rd), and I think at least one trip was made for sanity-keeping purposes in the "normal" morning hours of the 23rd.

Ruth and Leslie prepared everything that wasn't the turkey (and Ruth answered a few questions I had about preparing a turkey), and it was a great meal--even though the biscuits weren't Deana Mae's recipe... there were still great rolls there.

Todd, Anne, and the kids came to Center the afternoon of the 23rd, and enjoyed the meal with us. Then we had the gift-opening, which was lots of fun. The best moment was when Allison opened her gift of a very large green stuffed animal frog, and shouted, "It's a pig!"

Ruth and I returned to Kansas City that evening. I made Sunday services on the 24th, and not long after 12:30, Ruth and I headed for Omaha.

Wade, Dane, and Jordan were headed from Omaha about the same time as us (Leslie had a previous engagement in St. Joe, so she drove seperately).

Ruth and I arrived at Say's a bit before 4:00, and by the time we figured out how to park on the crazy streets around Say's house, it was 4:45.

I kid. It was 4:00.

Say, Peggy, Carrie, Zach, and Carrie's boyfriend (I think) Steve were all there. Say was making Christmas treats, and Zach was either sleeping, eating, or thinking about doing one of the two. I love my new great-nephew and all, but I told them he needs to be doing a few tricks or something the next time I come see him, because right now he's boring. Although it was nice to hold him and sing to him. I forget that part about babies.

Wade, Dan, and Jordan arrived a while after we got there. Once Leslie arrived, the Omaha gift-opening took place, and it was decided to hold off on the stockings until Christmas morning. We did, however, go ahead and draw names for next Christmas. Steve is to e-mail Todd, Anne, Ed, and Sara about who they drew. Since we missed doing the name-drawing this year (due to a lack of Thanksgiving), we figured it would be best to go ahead and draw them now.

Ruth, Leslie, and I went to Leslie's house to spend the night. There's not a lot to say about that except that Leslie was right--the upstairs bedroom is very cold.

We went back to Say's on Christmas morning, and Ruth and I headed back to Kansas City at about 10:00. Ruth finally had enough driving, and I took the wheel at the Stuckey's where I did my Christmas shopping for Adam and Allison last Christmas Day.

The rest of my Christmas was spent here, enjoying my time off... as I was fairly sure I'd be delivering pizzas on the 26th. And I was.

So, holiday cheer all around. Hooray!

It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year!

It's finally the holiday season over at my website. Also, my Christmas card is here. I'll hopefully be sending out personal links to some of you later, but no promises. I'm in Center right now, cooking a turkey.

More Thoughts On The Big Debate

Okay, I've had the Ally McBeal Christmas CD going in my car lately--

And now I feel I should explain myself. I enjoyed the show whenever I happened to see it, but didn't watch regularly. However, several years ago Jeanne B. out at MCM&VCo. wanted to find out all she could about a song she'd heard in a Target commercial, and my crack detective skills (yes, I always tell the kids at school I'm not Nancy Drew, and thus they need to not talk at all during tests, to avoid my assuming they're cheating, but really I am very much Nancy Drew) led me to learn the song was called "The Man With The Bag" and there were three recordings of it available locally. One was on an Ultra Lounge holiday CD (and it was the original recording of the song, actually), one was on the (at that time) new Diana Krall CD--but only on the ones purchased at Target--and the other was on the Ally McBeal Christmas CD.

So I got each one. All three CDs are great, by the way. I love the Ultra Lounge holiday CDs. They are just about my favorites for car holiday cheer.

Anyway, the current car holiday CD is the Ally McBeal Christmas CD, and on it, Vonda Shepard sings the less-appealing version of "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas"... well, the less-appealing of the first two on that link from the last post... I won't delve into the others on there.

Anyway (again... feel for anyone whose job it is to listen to me talk at length...), hearing this several times while delivering pizzas last night, I had another thought to add (and some confusing backstory as well, it would seem) to my whole debate below... and also, I felt I should clarify. I will probably feel I should clarify even after this post is over.

My big problem with the "brighter" version isn't that they say "This year Christmas is great..." it's that they're asserting that this year and forevermore everything will be great. "From now on our troubles will be out of sight."

Well now, please. Give me an ever-lovin' break already. "Next year all our troubles will be out of sight" might seem to suggest something similar, but I look at that as, "Next year at this time, our current woes will be forgotten", or, in the more... I dunno... abstract, I guess, "In that future time when we have the best Christmas ever, things will be so wonderful, we'll never have time to think about the troubles we had in the past." But heck, even taken literally, all the original version promises is a year of trouble-less-ness.

I mean, come on, from now on? Yeah, maybe if you mean, "From now on, our troubles will be invisible to us, able to attack us at any time."

I'm just sayin' is all. The original version is far superior. Doth anyone dare to contradict my assertion? Post your comment, you varlaty thou, you.

Varlet. What's a varlet? Apparently, the spell-checker was wondering the same thing.

Also, for those of you who normally get me holiday/birthday gifts, I've just updated my amazon.com wish list. Sorry to be so late about it.

The Heated "Have Yourself A Merry Little" Debate

Okay, so there isn't really a debate... but since I'm of a very strong opinion on this holiday "issue", I think there should be. I'll start.

First, a reading assignment.

Now, for the purposes of this debate, I'm pitting the first version listed on that link against the "brighter" version (listed second... and minus the introduction, although it doesn't really matter, I don't think).

Here's my stand: I think the first version is a much more satisfactory song, because it's not all b.s. about how perfect everything is. In fact, it's superior--granted, in my opinion--because it admits the present isn't perfect while allowing for a possible future where things are much better.

I think the brighter version is a big liar-head, that wants to act like every Christmas is just the best one ever, and people never look back at other Christmases and wish that they could take elements from various years and combine them all in some future perfect Christmas... where all those who can no longer be with us, or no longer speak to us, are there (and speaking to us) again once more. And where all the gifts are the best gifts we ever gave or received, and the food and the company was just right... you get the idea.

I like that the first version indicates that it's thinking in that direction instead of saying "this year is perfect". And the need for this debate? The dumb version gets more air play... and by "air play", I mean it's the one you hear the most, whether on the radio or at holiday sing-alongs.

There. Rant over. Other side?