Christmas is.....

Grandmas.. (And grandpas).. Siblings.. Cousins.. Aunts.. Uncles.. "Drawings' to see what family gets to sit where to open gifts... The specter of granny's cedar tree - the liquid bulbs.. and the finality of adorning with silver tinsel... Dogs all dressed with ribbons and bows..

Dinner around the big table, extra chairs pulled in from other rooms... no elbow room.. little ones giggling.. food aplenty.. furnace running...

Anticipation.. fervor.. love.. treacherous trips thru single lanes with two tire tracks... race car tracks.. electric train tracks... 8 tracks.. tracking in snow...

Helping dad hang the lights.. A neatly laid pallet on the floor Christmas Eve, so Santa simply could not be missed. Milk and cookies left out for him... Sleeping thru his commotion, and awakening mom/dad at 4:30am with "WE'RE READY!"...

Paper strewn everywhere, soon to be gobbled up by a recycling granny... Comparison (of sibling's gifts, cousin's gifts).. Smiles aplenty of young ones - which in turn brought smiles from parents - as little did we know it'd been a rough year and they worried we might not produce those smiles...

At age seven, one believes "it will be like this forever and ever." Some time later, a (said lovingly) rotten cousin dishes out the news "there ain't no Santa", makes fun of those of us still believing.. But HA! One day many years later - that belief is reinstilled!..

It's Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Doris Day, Nat King Cole, Dean Martin, Burle Ives.. George Bailey, Ebenezer Scrooge, Tiny Tim, The Grinch, Kris Kringle,

It's picking out special gifts for special people.. A Christmas Service.. A serviceman home for Christmas.. Love... Family.. Blood.. Bond..

The cycle continues as we become parents - and somehow we manage to make it through Christmas Day on 3 hours sleep after being awakened at 4:30am with a bellyache from too many cookies and milk. It's sacrifice in September, October, November, December to make Christmas happen...

The repetitive "special gifts for special folks"... Ralphie.. Clark Griswald, Kevin McAlister Home Alone.. Buddy/Elf.. Del Griffith/Planes, Trains.. The Chipmunks, John Denver, The Carpenters, Bruce Springsteen, Charlie Brown...

One by one, loved ones are lost. NEVER replaced - but, now more high chairs around the table.. As grandparents, we now get to snooze in until the 7am phone call to learn what presents they got... Shopping as a grandparent is FUN. I don't give a damn if I'm a month behind on the gas bill, my grandchild just HAS to have that!

Somehow - as we age, our eyes get more youthful. Things we enjoyed as kids - are absolutely just as enjoyable now.. Somehow, somewhere, at some point - we become a kid again...

Seeing one's kids be parents, the best. Seeing their glee attained from the glee of their children - priceless. Yes, we're now aware it won't "be like this forever and ever" - but, we will forever and ever hang on to memories of Christmas present AND past.

Christmas is visiting. Oft times its with those we usedta see every day - but no longer do, so the visit is 'specialer.' I know that ain't a word, should be. Harkening back to yesteryear. It's seeing/hearing those that aren't here any longer - vividly. The more Christmas changes over the years, the more it stays the same.

Christmas is happy tears.. Very commercial - sure.. but very special. As we age, even specialer. Merry Christmas, love Victurd.

Hello... Sarah?

Yep, Andy, Barnie, Opie, Aunt Bea... Floyd... they all usedta holler at Sarah to get connected with another soul.. Then we went rotary... Next, push button... Cordless... Pagers/Beepers.. Bag phones.. Now, phones do everything ceptin' maybe have sex with you... and I ain't up on all the newfangled techniques – hell, they may do that too now and I don't even know.

Getting at: touch. No, you pervert, not that kinda touch – the kinda touch where friends, loved ones, coworkers, former coworkers, siblings, aunts/uncles, grandparents, grandkids simply reach out and touch someone - instantaneously. (Catchy phrase, mebbe someone could use that.)


Facebook. Color me smitten. Smitten as a way to keep up with lives of many. Those older, younger, wiser.... faster... similar... married.. single... widowed.. fellow MU fans.. chickenhawk fans.. Liberty-ites.. nearby... faraway (usedta be nearby, still are at heart).. As I peruse FB I wonder “from what little nook and cranny (what person) from my life, our lives (past/present) will pop up next?”

“Nah, I signed up, but I don't get on there.”... “A waste of time... I've got access in real life to all those I needta have access to.”

Color me, not among that group. I love coming here, blabbing here, reading here.. sharing here... learning here.. laughing here... I just love 'here'... Kinda like caller-ID even. Can choose to answer, or not. Seeing the little (1) in parentheses up there is cool, cause for wonder, mebbe even excitement.

My beloved father, may he rest in peace, always said I was easily led. Very true pops, I love following my buddies, loved ones... Thank you to whomeverinthehell invented Facebook. It's a trip to the Corner Bar, relatives on each Coast, yesterday, today, past jobs, present job, old school chums, pics of (babies, young'ns, folks, grandparents, friends, friend's friends.) – all rolled up in one.

To my friends who post, don't post, read, write (even the Chickenhawk variety) thanks for being you. I enjoy you, Facebook. Sarah, I reckon, was Facebook, when FB wasn't cool. She musta known anything and everything about everyone in Mayberry R'FB'. I'd follow that, I'm easily led. Love, Victurd.