It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like HOLIDAY?

Okay. So I was watching a commercial on television with my nearly grown children (who undoubtedly were basking in the glow of my presence) when onto the screen loomed a mother, Christmas shopping with her teenage son. Said son whipped out a gift he bought to give to a sibling and mom replied to him in surprised tones, “You bought a holiday present for your brother?!”

“A holiday present?” my children and I replied in unison.

And this would go under the holiday tree? What holiday would that be exactly? I don’t know……Christmas?

I know retailers, in an effort to be financially correct and carve out any possible green from all wallets of any persuasion, have assumed the position of neutrality. “Holiday” and “Holiday Tree” are the new correct terms. But there IS no neutral and there is no need for correction. Guess what? It’s Christmas! It’s about Christ. Being born. For us. In a manger. In Bethlehem. Around this time of year.

When Meredith Wilson penned the now famous words “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” she had an opportunity to use the term “holiday.” She didn’t. And there’s something about, “I’m dreaming of a white holiday,” that just doesn’t have the same warm, fuzzy glow to it. Irvin Berlin knew what worked and called it "the best song he, or anyone, ever wrote." And he was proudly Jewish.

But if the word “Christmas” isn’t safe, what other words might become fiscally or politically offensive to those who want our dollars or would seek to control our beliefs?

What will we do with the song, “O Christmas Tree?”

“O holiday tree, O holiday tree,

Thy leaves are so unchanging (well, except of course we understand that nothing is cast in stone and if you want to change we will support your decision),

Not only green when summer’s here (or rather, we mean that time of year when the position of the earth – be it northern or southern hemispheres – is closer to the sun….it is not our intention to limit you to the term ‘summer’),

But also when ‘tis cold and drear (understand that we are not attempting to cast judgment by intimating the positional rotation away from the sun is in any way negative),

O holiday tree, O holiday tree,

Let’s just forget we sang of thee.”

And can “A Charlie Brown Christmas” ever be the same if we must now call it “A Charlie Brown Holiday?” What will we sing when we hear the theme song? This?

“Holiday time is here……”

Perhaps we should change ALL special days to reflect greater inclusion of every possibility and build in apologies as well. Maybe New Year’s Day could be “Culturally and Historically Egocentric Day of Western Civilization Time Marking.” Definitely makes you feel like popping a cork on the bubbly.

We in America err gravely I’m sure to celebrate Independence Day each July Fourth. Far less divisive to call it, “Lack of Cultural Sensitivity Day Wherein We Did Not Strive to Be Good Citizens by Working in Unison With A Somewhat Oppressive, Albeit Temporarily Misguided, Overseas Monarchy That Seemed Unwilling, Or Perhaps Unable, to Represent Our Interests.” Pack that in your fireworks and explode ‘em.

And in celebration, as we raise aloft our sparklers, let us not hail that Star Spangled Banner over the “land of the free.” Let us sew a picture of the whole world onto one flag so as not to celebrate that we in America, with our stars and stripes, are the home of the brave. We may be sending a message that “you, over there, are not.”

So, lift your spiced egg milk product, throw a cement log on the gas jet, let Jack or Jane Frost nip (no, that sounds distinctly like drinking and could be misconstrued as an alcohol endorsement), er, touch you on the nose (if that’s agreeable to you and you do not feel it creates a hostile holiday environment), and sing your non-descript carols. And have yourself a happy little holiday now.

Wow. I feel sort of tingly and sentimental. Don’t you?

© Copyright 2009

Photo Courtesy of: FreeChristmasWallpapers.net

I’m Such A Child

Does marching up and down the street pretending you’re actually IN the parade and embarrassing your children count for anything? I believe this type of activity is important to desensitize my progeny. This way, when they walk out of the bathroom with toilet paper trailing behind them or they accidentally spit food on their date, it will be child’s play. They will say, “We survived our mother. Humiliation has no power over us.” And they will have me to thank.

You're welcome.

Aren’t you obligated to march around and be filled with wonderment and joy when you hear music, see twinkling Christmas lights, and have a party of twenty five friends all determined to have a merry time in the nippy, windy cold?

And the first thing down the street was my FAVORITE entry each year. I have no idea what it’s called but I want one. These photo effects could call my sobriety into question…….

(click to embiggen – good luck)

See?

The people ride in the center and I wanna be one of those people.

The drought’s been so bad here we have to put our boats to use on land.And hey, it’s Clovis…….we’re a rodeo town….we gotta have our horses…..

……and country music. Advice to KISS Country - Allison Krause should be on the side of that bus.

And Jeeps……being a Jeep gal myself I think this is a vital part of the parade.

This one had so many lights he ran with a generator on top. Bo spotted that. I could see her making plans for our Jeep and generator.

And then other 4x4’s got in the show……

This one was a favorite. I’d use it for my Christmas tree and shove the presents under the differential.

And no self respecting cowboy town would be complete without its semi trucks (this was AWEsome)…..And the really old cars….

And the rare cars…..like this Kaiser Traveler.

It’s older than I am and I appreciate that about a car. I ran down the road after it just to keep getting photos. My son was hollering after me, “What are you DOING?” Gee whiz. Doesn’t he know by now?

The marching band has to get in there and if you’re having Irish Coffee while you’re staring at this it should look just perfect to you.

This one as well. But check out the light trails on the drumsticks. Whoa. Dude.

Here come the sweet ones with the kiddos.

And finally, the float that sums up the season. The one about CHRISTmas. Love this.

So there you have it. Proof (on the banner over the street) that you’re supposed to be a child to attend. I qualified. And I’m proud to be a Clovisite, or Clovisian, or a Clovisonian…..whatever it is we’re called. We have an identity crisis around here. We used to be a little bitty town. Now we have over 100,000 people and no one’s ever heard of us. They never give the weather for Clovis, only Fresno. We aren’t on the maps on the local news. Shoot, we can’t even elect our mayor. It’s an appointed position that harkens back to the time when we only had three people in the town and they had shoot-outs over who got to be mayor and wear the three piece suit. (I'm sure I'm next in line to be town historian.) We have one guy whose been mayor about 48 times. Hi Harry.

But we are who we are and you can see we don’t let it stop us. If you’re ever in central California, slow down, turn east, and you’ll find us at the foot of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

Our official town motto? “Clovis Is A Way of Life.” And all I can say is, “Boy Howdy!”

Thanks for coming to the parade with me. :-)

© Copyright 2009

Small Town Christmas Fun

No, it’s not a float but doesn’t it look like it could be? This is some hearty soul’s house and I wish he lived next door to me. I don’t have one light hung, no tree, well, it’s leaned against the shed out back being hosed down with water as I write. (Gets rid of dead needles and spider hitch-hikers who FREAK me out when I reach into the tree and they reach back.) Shudder.

Back to floats…….Tonight we’ll be seeing lots of them and some will probably look like this. Downtown Clovis always has an electric light parade the first weekend in December and we try never to miss it because it’s so homespun. There’ll be semi-trucks, Jeeps, horses, marching bands, decorated dogs, and kids wrapped up like presents.

Usually a few friends join us and we huddle up and drink hot chocolate or Starbucks and munch cookies and popcorn while we talk about how we’re freezing. However, this is California – low level elevation California. Freezing is relative. It’ll probably be clear down in the 40’s for those of you in snow country who would probably be in swimsuits here. But we’ll shiver anyway and bring blankets and coats and love every minute of it. And I’m breaking with tradition and making iced cranberry and orange scones. For the moms. And LOTS of friends are coming this year so it should be a blast. All I can say is…..

Wish YOU were here!

Oh yeah, and I also wish Santa would visit while I’m gone tonight and decorate my house but not before cleaning it and doing all my laundry. Why can’t a girl get what she REALLY wants?

© Copyright 2009

Why, It Was Only Yesterday

Well, and the 364 other yesterdays.

That’s when I pushed my pin into the blogosphere map and marked out my territory….my little spot in the blog world.

This was my original post (obviously the blog name changed but my sentiments remain identical):

I'm Finally Here!

For all who have waited breathlessly for my opinions, reflections, and life-changing insights,(both of you), I have arrived.I named my blog "Laugh Til You Die" because I can't handle life without finding something to laugh about on a nearly daily basis. While it's true there are experiences in our lives which come without any humor, most of the time we can find a chuckle even in the dark. For me, the laughing lights a light so I can navigate. If I must face all difficulties with intense sobriety and "appropriate" seriousness, I forfeit joy. And joy is God's gift to me. I hope to use it until I leave for heaven and then I hope to get new material.

What was I hoping for and what did I expect?

I hoped for readers and just maybe followers as well.

I expected myself to write. I wasn’t worried about subject matter because I’ve always been able to make much ado about nothing. That didn’t offer my reader the promise of anything substantial but I figured I could fill a page.

I had no idea how time consuming it would be.

I had no idea how important it would feel…..the sense of responsibility I would develop toward it.

(All my sentences are beginning with “I.” It’s the mark of a superior writer.)

I wanted a place to be accountable for consistent writing. A book felt a tad overwhelming back then but a post every day or two or three? Doable. Most of the time.

What I didn’t expect was actual friends.

I figured a few hearty souls would belly up to my bombastic bar, drop a comment or two in the tip jar, and be on their way to partake of finer fare available at the more posh blog houses in the village run by professional proprietors. Finding out I had regular patrons who actually made my humble establishment their destination of choice was heady stuff. And I let it fuel my desire to write and connect. It made me feel as though I had something to say. (Not sure if that's true but I said it anyway.) Maybe I couldn’t consider it my magnum opus but I decided to carpe diem even if it meant the occasional mea culpa. After all, caveat emptor.

(I have wanted to trail out my Latin for awhile but will now cease before I hurt myself. All I have left in the arsenal anyway are my conjugated verbs about love and I get those mixed up with my Spanglish.)

But you and I became friends. And miles and face-to-face visits weren’t necessary to find myself invested in your lives, your health, your relationships, and your hearts. And, likewise, you took me in. I began to speak of my friends on the east coast, or in the Midwest, or Canada, or Sweden, the U.K., or Australia. A few came in from African countries and sometimes Russia would drop by, or China, or India, and other places. And my world expanded and I had NO IDEA what it was I could possibly say that brought any of you here in the first place. But you came. And I thank you for your faithful visits and time and words and words and WORDS of encouragement. I could stop right now and have enough loving words to drag me out of any depression for the rest of my life. You are TOO good to me and that isn’t humility on my part – it’s fact. I’m not nearly as terrific as you all make me sound.

I’ve always told Grizzly I want to have my funeral while I’m alive so if anyone has anything good to say, I’ll be able to hear it, and look here – I have. (He likes to remind me that in my regular life people will like me a lot better when I’m dead and will be inclined to be more generous then. He's such a riot.)

So yahoo! I made it. I read statistics somewhere – unverified though they may be – that 70% of all bloggers wash out before a year is up, or at least quit posting. Do you think that’s true? Who knows but I’m happy to look back at 250 posts (including both blogs) and think, “I’m still at it.”

Life happens. Breaks happen. If you’re really lucky, vacations happen. And I have GOT to write my books so I know that will take me away sometimes. (I’m sure I could sell at least 14 copies if four of you would be willing to buy one and I buy the other ten.) But I don’t want to say goodbye. I am a citizen of this place now and we’re walking through life together – messy, lovely, funny…..you name it.

Who knew all this was waiting on the other side of that little door I peeked through?

© Copyright 2009

Photos courtesy of flikr.com

Contemplating My Navel

My belly button should cooperate so much when I’m done. Wouldn’t that be great if our navels just popped out and let us know when we’ve had enough to eat? Why does it take my WHOLE stomach, rear end, thighs, and fat face popping out to sound the alarm? And it would seem I don’t even wake up then. I hit the snooze way too much.

I know what you’re thinking right now….."How have I lived without all this deep wisdom?” It’s truly a miracle you’ve made it through.

I offer up my paltry excuses for bad eating today on the 30 Day Throw Down! blog. You might be able to use some of them so please drop in and read up while you are baking pies, working, changing diapers, planning for relatives and guests, getting the kids off the furniture, shaving one leg (let’s face it – you’ll never have time for two), grocery shopping, answering your email, phone, Twitter, Facebook, and cell while simultaneously reshuffling your IPod to play only Christmas music, and smiling graciously to your dearly beloveds who grace your table tomorrow, and those not so dearly beloved (which will take more muscles to produce the smile – believe me I know – my face could compete in weight lifting trials right about now).

You ARE all that. And I know it. And I am ever more and more grateful that you choose to drop in and check on me and read my drivel. Have a lovely day. May you be hugged and appreciated for the hard work you do and especially for all the things that make life move along but are unseen by any but God. I don’t know what you have to do or face but I know there is much that is unspeakable. Still, you do it. Still, you persevere. And still you take time for others. I’m one of them.

And I humbly offer my Thanksgiving. Many blessings to you my friends. I hope you have a lovely day tomorrow filled with yet more reasons to give thanks. (Hey! Maybe the rotten relative will call and tell you they can't come. This is my sweet and gentle Thanksgiving wish for you.) Enjoy!

© 2009

Kryptonite

Humor is my super power.

It’s not that I claim to be so hysterically entertaining or funny. It’s that humor is the “S” on my chest. It gets me through the toughest times and keeps me seeing the upside, or the irony, while it fuels my optimism. I rely on it heavily to diffuse nearly every difficult situation of my life.

But then there’s kryptonite. And existing within inches of it for several weeks or having it force fed to me has had crippling effects.

It’s not the death of my stepfather. We had an amiable (though complicated) relationship, but he wasn’t ever a father figure to me. He married my mother when I’d been gone from home for four years and he never had children of his own. He didn’t have fatherly ways. He enjoyed limited time with my kiddos, in small doses, but he and my mother built a very tight little world for themselves that didn’t really have room for others. And that was okay because my mom and I do best with one another when we visit only occasionally. We have far too much traumatizing history and, because it’s truly pointless to confront or try to change anything (I know – I tried for years), I simply move forward when history is continually revised and regurgitated in my presence. And I suck on my kryptonite tablet while moving closer to the precipice.

And I nearly fell over it and crashed to the bottom.

Thank God for trees that grow close to craggy cliff sides and insist on pushing roots out into thin air. As I began to tumble, one of those tree roots caught me and that’s where I’ve been hanging, but it's also what saved me.

Strangely enough, my tree root was my kids getting majorly sick. High temps, deep coughs, too sick to read or even play a computer game. They came down with what Grizzly and I had two months ago. I had hoped, back then, that The Wild Man had the same thing we had even though his symptoms were different, but I was wrong. And Bo never did get sick during that siege. They both made up for it. Grizzly and I were immune because we had already had it. Quite sure it was H1N1. The university where Bo is attending has had a clinic just to test for it, it’s been so prolific. But she was too sick to get there.

I was called back to fulltime, hands-on mothering, because being younger, they were hit even harder than we were.

And all the tending and nighttime vigils and forehead mopping and praying brought me back to reality. And it gave me space to spit out the kryptonite and a legitimate reason to be away from the source. In so doing, I began to recover. And friends provided food and support and cards and conversation - and the thing I was lowest on - humor.

And I’ve received the sweetest comments and emails from you all. You’ve taken the time to pray for me, for us, to check in – to drop another note. And I began to remember why writing was important to me, even if I couldn’t find any words worth jotting down. I’m not sure these qualify but it’s a start.

So, hello. I’m back. Not fully there but on the road. I know you understand. I’ll be by to visit soon and hopefully, not from the computer in the solarium at the insane asylum.

I’m limiting my time with Lex Luthor.

© 2009

Almost There....

Hi Everyone.....

A quick note with an update. Today's is the funeral.

What a whirlwind dying is. I had no idea and have signed a contract promising never to do it.

A. It's unbelieveably expensive

B. It's incredibly involved

C. We will have to revert to a funeral pyre for me because we would never be able to afford all the costs. (But that's only if I break my contract. Otherwise, I would be very irritated about being put on pyre.)

Like hospitals, funerals bring out the best and the worst. The worst has been minimal and the best has been abundant. God sent me a family friend to help out with everything. He's on leave from Okinawa and when there is time, I will tell you about him. But truly, he was a Godsend. Between his computer skills and Bo's, they have provided what ten people would normally do. I have wonderful, loving friends who are cooking for the luncheon today. They've also made us dinner and insured my kids are supported with overnights and distractions. Our own dear pastor and family are singing today for the services, even though my mother and stepdad weren't part of our congregation. My pastor has gone to the hospital to counsel with my mother and pray with my stepfather and was there just a few hours before he passed.

And you. You have sent me notes of support and blessings and love. And you've prayed for me. And those prayers have been answered in ways I could have NEVER forseen. Thank you seems so inadequate but it's from my heart.

There are still a few days of wrapping up but I expect to return here Monday. I know your lives are moving forward and I'm missing so much but I also appreciate your generous grace. You are in my prayers as well.

With Love,

Robynn