Three more days until New Years Eve. It will not be an occasion for me as I will certainly be fast asleep when the big ball in New York's time square gets to its destination. I do remember back in my day that Guy Lombardo was the New Years Eve regular. By the way, when I picked up this Gasoline Alley strip, it said Walt is 100 years old now. Make you feel your age a little?

I have always liked CARMINA BURANA by Carl Orff, but after reading the piece I've included about his days as a nazi, right, one of those German Hitler Nazi's, I will at least think differently about any inspirations he may have had while writing it. He was a little scary. Here's a little of his Carmina Burana, followed by the history of his nazi past. Carl Orff.

Today's New York Times has this story about a family that was as famous as you could possibly get. You mentioned the name Von Trapp and one of many songs came immediately to mind and you might start humming or whistling a tune come unbidden but familiar as a Christmas carol you've known since birth. This column will bring you up to date somewhat and if nothing else will reassure some sentimentalists among us that the Von Trapps will remain in American culture for the foreseeable future.

Well who'd a thunk it. From the Newser comes this news which I'm personally glad to see. You don't think that the child's book he is reading to the little ones is included in the list of 95 do you? Whatever, good for him.

A repeat of something I wrote two years ago. This year we have two of our grandchildren with us for the big holiday. I got some comments on the remembrance, so I thought I would repeat it. I hope you enjoy it.



I wish to make a confession. A confession designed to be read by grandchildren I have and those yet to be born who will not know me other than the grandpa who lives in Ohio.

I would like them at least to know that I too was a child once and the excitement of this season now upon us was almost too much for me to bear. I was an only child, I had no brothers or sisters. I guess my mother decided after having me that she could do no better or, and this is more likely, she said, Oh no I'll have no part in bringing another one like him into the world.

I liked it. If I ever thought about it, it didn't take me long to decide that I was absolutely happy being an only. The one thing it allowed me to do was let my imagination soar free. With a brother or sister I would have been criticized for being stupid, or a dreamer.

So I could let my imagination fly, and around Christmas time, I sure did. I loved the holidays from Thanksgiving through Christmas. I would get so excited on Thanksgiving that for years I would get sick on the big eating holiday. But I quickly recovered and started carefully preparing my gift list for Santa Claus. Advantage for the only child. Unless you asked for something really dumb, like a real airplane, or a horse, you get the idea, I had a pretty good chance of hitting the jackpot.

Now here we get into some sticky territory. I was a true believer when it came to the legend of Santa Claus. But just in case I had gotten some faulty information I tried to cut my losses and would tell my mom what I had asked Santa for.

Now I am going to tell you a secret. A secret that only Grandma Hazel knows. On a Christmas eve night, I was trying very hard to fall asleep so the morning would arrive, and I could get to the serious business of gift receiving. Kids at the age I was had not yet learned that the idea of the season was to foster the exchange of gifts which originated with the Magi's bringing gifts to the newborn Jesus. But like most all the children in the world I was not into that part of the season yet. That came later in life, but at least it came.

It was late and it was a Christmas card night, it had snowed, but the night was clear with the moon and stars bright against a black December sky, as I got out of bed once again. I was not allowed to leave my room on Christmas eve after I was sent to bed, so I got up to get a book when I glanced out of the window and couldn't believe what I saw. I saw in the distant sky the familiar scene emblazoned upon millions of children's minds, Santa Claus and his reindeers high in the black star bright night flying away toward the full moon. I don't remember what I thought or did, except I never told anyone before except Grandma Hazel and now you our grandchildren.

I never knew why I was allowed to see this magical person, most kids don't you know. Perhaps it was because children and grandparents share a common experience, the experience of discovery. The discovery that there are things out there that we don't exactly understand and maybe never were meant to. Some things just have to be taken on faith. So enjoy the discoveries and have a wonderful and happy life. It will make grandma and grandpa very happy if you do.

Christmas certainly is getting political, isn't it.

Merry Christmas.

Best Friend

A marriage if it's blessed with luck,
a lot of luck
will last until the end of our time on God's good green earth.

A journey not without trials and tribulations.
In some cases
In my case we started out so young and
so ill-prepared and quite frankly dumber than
Ohio riverbed rocks
Unsure of and unschooled in much of anything.

Good times, hard times, unsure times, exciting times,
sad times.

Times met head on, error, mistakes, folly, all met us on the road.

Years passed, we slowly began to learn, began to understand,
and anticipate life on its terms.

Always learning little lessons, some important, some not, some
lessons to pass on, some not.

Until one day we wake up and find our shared life has gone by and
we now stand alone and yet again we learn another lesson.

That somewhere in the journey we became friends. How important
is that? I could argue it is the most cherished of all.

Friends, best friends, know each others weaknesses and their strengths,
but would never try to capitalize upon either for gain. Best friends
are the most trusted, and the most comfortable to be with for as
long as God will allow.

My best friend has gotten better looking, smarter, braver, and the one
person I want to be with when our journey together ends.

Happy Anniversary Best Friend.

I don't generally post 'cute stuff', but what I generally do or don't do is mute when we are talking about puppies, at least this time. Be prepared to ooh and ahh. Arf.

Absolutely no reason to show this picture other than I liked it. Check out this book blog.

Pretty funny finding humor in a drop dead serious business. Today's news that President Bush is going to fund GM and Chrysler in the hope that they will remember how to turn the companies profitable is a move that has to be made. I agree fully with the move. I can't but believe that letting the companies close would put so many non-automobile related people in the unemployment line, and drop communities where plants will be lost into an economic morass compounding lost jobs. Maybe it's putting off the inevitable, but it's a move that has to be tried.

William Glackens-Christmas Shoppers at Madison Square 1912. Seven shopping days left. Times are getting hard, and each day something bad happens in almost every community, but try to explain any of that to little ones. They wouldn't understand how any of this bad stuff relates to the big guy in the red suit. Seven days left, get creative.

No man's life, liberty or property are safe while the legislature is in session.

Judge Gideon J. Tucker

Peter Mark Roget, the full name of the creator of Roget's thesaurus was indeed anal retentive. He seemed to have reasons, to say the least, to view life in a different way. He started his 'lists' as a tool to some form of normality. This piece from PROSPECT, I thought was very interesting, and worth the time. If you are familiar with the thesaurus, you will probably be interested in reading about the guy who wrote it.

Where was the President's secret service protection?

Two great actors, Frederick March and Burt Lancaster in the movie Seven Days In May, getting their teeth into meaty roles. Americans want their government to be open and protective of each citizens rights which are protected by the constitution and the ballot box. When the government becomes convinced that they cannot trust the peoples judgements and must take the vote out of our hands under the guise of protecting us, bad things will follow.

GOVERNMENT-CHICAGO STYLE

GOVERNMENT-Chicago style, written in 1916 by Carl Sandburg. Rough it was, rough it is. Different you think from others? No excuses from me extended for the outrageous, overt activity of the governor, but is it surprising? No. Any person who watches politics at all knows what goes on or can guess. Big time pols deal with big money all the time, and how many poor politicians leave office still poor?

GOVERNMENT

THE Government--I heard about the Government and
I went out to find it. I said I would look closely at
it when I saw it.
Then I saw a policeman dragging a drunken man to
the callaboose. It was the Government in action.
I saw a ward alderman slip into an office one morning
and talk with a judge. Later in the day the judge
dismissed a case against a pickpocket who was a
live ward worker for the alderman. Again I saw
this was the Government, doing things.
I saw militiamen level their rifles at a crowd of
workingmen who were trying to get other workingmen
to stay away from a shop where there was a strike
on. Government in action.

Everywhere I saw that Government is a thing made of
men, that Government has blood and bones, it is
many mouths whispering into many ears, sending
telegrams, aiming rifles, writing orders, saying
"yes" and "no."

Government dies as the men who form it die and are laid
away in their graves and the new Government that
comes after is human, made of heartbeats of blood,
ambitions, lusts, and money running through it all,
money paid and money taken, and money covered
up and spoken of with hushed voices.
A Government is just as secret and mysterious and sensitive
as any human sinner carrying a load of germs,
traditions and corpuscles handed down from
fathers and mothers away back.

ONE HUNDRED NOTABLE BOOKS FROM 2008

In a companion blog about the decade of the forties, A decade of change, I am mentioning some of my favorite films of that decade. I wanted also to mention a much later film here that I like for another reason. The film is titled, THE DEAD, written by James Joyce, a film that takes us back to a time when we were more mannerly and concerned with each others feelings. The reason is that it mesmerizes me and transports me to another time by their speech and manners. The content, although literate and wonderful as in a great poem is sometimes too intellectual for my understanding, but the feelings they emit sucks me in and I am with them until the end of the film. This film directed by John Huston (his last film before his death) has so many fine scenes from my perspective, fine because of the feeling it generates that carries me with them to the end of the film. This particular scene is a prime example of my lacking the intellect to completely understand each stanza, but emotionally it grabs me every time I look at it.

Funny Stuff From Shoebox. Check them out by clicking here.

Favorite holiday recipes

from Shoebox by Allyson

Grandma’s Nog

Cream (optional)
Sugar (optional)
Egg (optional)
Bourbon

Serve in festive cups and enjoy!

by Scott