Nothing New, Nothing Original

Christmas has been written about literally since the beginning of time.  The imagery and allegory surrounding the Saviors birth have been described in countless writings.  The story has been told from the perspective of kings, shepherds, angels, animals, trees and even Whos.  What more could possibly be written of that great event?

Well, it's never been written about from my perspective.  Of course, I'm not exactly sure what my perspective might have been.  Was I in the heavenly choirs?  I don't think so.  Judging by my voice now, the veil would have to be made of some kind of cosmic titanium cement in order to so effectively muffle that sort of talent.  I'm pretty sure I wasn't with the angelic messengers either.  Statistically speaking, it's highly improbable.

I'm guessing that I was probably worrying about all the little stuff that was going on and missing the bigger picture.  That's typical of me.  I can't just enjoy the moment.  I have to scrutinize every last detail and try to find obscure resolutions to all the insignificant events.  It's quite likely that I created at least one spreadsheet during the whole sequence of events.  Spreadsheets, after all, are the staff of analytical life.

Instead of marveling at the humble circumstances of the stable, I was probably doing some quick figures to see just how many more hotel franchises were necessary in order to accommodate the sudden influx of travelers.  I'm sure that, instead of relishing in the symbolism of the lowly shepherds being the first to visit the manger scene, I was probably worried about what was happening to their sheep while they were gone.  When the star was shining in the east, I was probably thinking about the west.  Mostly because I prefer the west.

More than likely, I was just one of the countless masses who were gathered to experience the singular events that were about to take place.  Nothing spectacular, just one of the crowd.  But I was one.  So were you.  We were there, watching.

So I guess my perspective is that I am just one of many, many others who still  marvel at such an extraordinary event.  But I am one.  He knows me and He knows you.  And that's a mighty comforting perspective.

Merry Christmas!

Do You Take Cream?

I'm sure we've all been stuck in a refrigerator at one time or another in our lives.  For me, that time came when I was probably around 6 or 7 years old.  I had a very good reason for getting into the fridge, but my plans took a serious turn for the worse when I failed to properly communicate my sound logic to the nearest responsible adult.

It all started with a cow.  I've never had much use for livestock.  I prefer mine medium to medium well.  But this particular cow was a lovely holstein named Daisy, who gave enough milk to keep us and at least two other families well mustached.  Every day, after we milked the cow, mom would put the milk in a refrigerator out in the garage.  I use the term "we milked" very loosely.  I usually just watched.  After the milk and cream had separated, mom would go out and skim off the cream.  I liked to accompany her while doing this, again, just to watch, because it looked cool as she carefully spooned the cream from the top of the milk.  Simple minds, simple pleasures.

As an aside, and this has nothing to do with the story, she used to take some of the cream and pour it over some freshly picked raspberries.  Add a little sugar and you have one of my fondest childhood memories.  Okay, back to the story.

This one particular day, she was skimming cream and I was less interested in her work than normal. So I thought up a game, all by myself I might add.  The idea was that I would climb into the fridge, shut the door and then after a few minutes, mom would open the door and let me out.  I know, this astounding creativity truly foreshadowed a mind destined for greatness.

I carefully explained my plans to mom, climbed inside, and shut the door.  In case you've never skimmed cream, or seen it done, it requires total concentration and a steady hand to make sure that you don't scoop up any milk or leave too much cream.  My mom was good at it.  So good, in fact, that she could shut out any interruptions, including the carefully planned out strategies of her youngest prodigy.  In her defense, who really ever thinks that their child is in danger of getting trapped inside a refrigerator?  I'm pretty sure it's not something that most parents ever take a second thought about.

I have to explain here that this was an older fridge.  Apparently back in the early days of refrigerators, folks were quite concerned about their food escaping so they installed latches on the doors.  Since there is no door handle on the inside of a refrigerator, of course you can see what an alarming safety hazard this could be.

There I was, shivering inside the fridge and anxiously awaiting the moment when the door would pop open and I would triumphantly climb out and greet my cheering fans.  Waiting... still waiting... Okay, now I was getting a little concerned.  I don't remember how long I was in there, but it must have been at least two and a half, or three minutes.  Long enough for me to fully comprehend some deep flaws in my otherwise foolproof plan.

Luckily I was a chatterbox as a child and so my mom, upon returning to the house, instantly noticed the relative peace and quiet.  Like most parents, she was deeply concerned when there was peace and quiet in the house.  Peace and quiet when you have children is sort of like having that extra dessert.  It's seems so nice at the time, but there are unseen consequences that won't be fun to fix.

Needless to say, since I am writing about it nearly three decades later, mom quickly found me and set me free.  It makes me wonder if the fridge was typically the first place she checked when she was looking for me.  Although, to this day, it's a safe bet that if you don't know where I'm at, check the fridge.  As my wife can attest.

Well, there you have it.  Your typical harrowing experience of cheating death from being trapped in the fridge.  It just goes to show that no matter how well thought out your plans are, it's probably best not to climb into the fridge.  Words to live by.

Problem Solved

I've got it!  Talk about killing multiple birds with one stone, I have an idea that is far reaching and multifaceted.  Let's outline some of todays greatest challenges:

- cheap alternative energy
- health care
- high unemployment

They all have the same answer.  Exercise!!!

Are you with me?  Let me explain.

We have an exercise machine known as an elliptical.  You've probably seen one, its like a cross between a stationary bike and a stair climber.  Today I was somewhat considering the possibility of thinking about maybe deciding to make a goal of climbing on it and trying to get some exercise.

Then the idea hit me.  All three times I've used the elliptical I've been fascinated that it measures the wattage that I'm generating with my workout.  Just now I got on and I was putting out a full 500 watts.

Now do you see where I'm going?  We've got a lot of people out of work right now...

Just think about it.  Renewable energy, healthier people, new jobs.  It's the ultimate cure-all.

Who's with me?  I can see it now.  We'll put an exercise place next to every sub-station and everyone will have to take their turn in it, just like jury duty.  Let's just call it an energy tax.

If I Could Only Remember the Color of That Yellowbrick Road

I am not always right.  In the past I've said this, but I'm not sure I've always believed it.  Sometimes I think I was just playing along to make everyone else feel good.  Deep down, I've always been pretty secure that my judgment was without reproach.

That is until recently when it occurred to me that I am truly not perfect, nor have I ever been.  Talk about a shocker!  I do stupid things.  Things that any sane person would have to shake their head at in disbelief.  What's more is that, even when my opinion has merit, somebody else might have an equally viable approach that seemingly contradicts me. 

I've always judged my perfection status on how well things are going in my life.  My life is pretty good.  I've got a wonderful wife, great kids and we've got what we need to live.  So one could only assume that my decisions have been spot on.  Turns out I can't take any more credit for how my life has turned out than I can for the autumn leaves changing colors.  The real kicker is that my life has turned out well almost in spite of some of my past choices rather than because of them.

As you can imagine, this new found self-awareness has been more than a little disconcerting.  I find myself second guessing everything I do, and then I second guess my second guesses.  I suppose that would be called tertiary guessing, or would it be quaternary, or maybe I should just call it poly-guessing?  Oh, who knows what is right?

You see, now that I know for sure that I'm not always right, I'm not sure if I should keep on going as before, making stupid mistakes, that I believe to be correct, and hoping that things will continue to turn out well.  Or, am I now obligated to making no more mistakes and, if I'm ever wrong again, facing the fact that irreparable harm has been done to my future?

It seems like the more I think something is right, the more I'm sure that I must be completely out of my mind.  This is the dilemma that doesn't end but instead it perpetually regenerates itself.  I am truly at a loss with this one.  I can't continue forward because I will certainly make the same stupid mistakes that I have made in the past.  I might even make some entirely new mistakes and add a whole new dimension to my imperfection.   

There really is no moral to this story.  I can't draw any conclusions or wrap up my thoughts into a neat little package of polished enlightenment.  Sorry to disappoint.

I suppose I could give the old stand-by responses of "keep trying" and "never give up."  Those sound good in theory, but in practice, well, they kind of make me want to find the happiest person I can see and break an egg over their head.  Serves them right.

What I really need is a set of specifications to follow.  Clearly worded and not in the least bit vague.  The problem is that I could never write them for myself, for obvious reasons that I have already explained.  But I can write them for everyone else because, even though I'm not always right about my own life, I can tell you that if the world worked the way I think it should then everyone would be much better off.

So here are just a few rules to live by, and as always, no charge.

1 - If possible, choose the graveled over the paved road.  You may not get to your destination as fast but, in the event of an unexpected blizzard, you'll have better traction.  Anyone who lives in Idaho can tell you that, on any day of the year, blizzard conditions could be only moments away.

2 - To my knowledge, nobody has ever actually died from yellow snow, but that is no reason to test your luck just because you're not quite sure it's the real thing.

3 - Toilet seat ... down!  It's just not worth the convenience, no matter how long you've been holding it.

4 - Pick the diesel truck every time.  I'm sorry, but that is truly the way an engine is supposed to sound.

5 - A 12oz RibEye with no sauce and nothing for dessert, definitely qualifies as a lowfat meal.  Live it up!