Another strange 'phone' ocurrence happened today. I was talking to a customer, hearing
out their white collar, capitalist frustrations, when suddenly I thought of Christmas. The
thought was not accompanied or preceded by anything - It just popped into my brain. Then,
a split instant after I thought of Christmas, the customer on the phone asks 'Will you be
having any Christmas specials soon?' Now if that's not weird...There's a new movie coming out
called Deja Vu and though it looks VERY hollywood, directed by Tony Scott and Bruckheimer
of course with a huge cast and a billion and one close up camera angles per minute, I just may
see it. It's weird to tap into that other 80 something percentile that our brains are apparently 'not
using'. To continue on with the Christmas theme, though, and carry this blog entry on to
completion, after that caller got me thinking, I was reminded of how much Christmas just always
seemed magical to me, as a child. I remembered things like these kick-ass ginger molasses
christmas tree cookies I always make with my mom, complete with thick vanilla icing and multi-
coloured sprinkles, and how no matter what stage of life I was in, I would always make time to
be there for that. It is an event, to be sure. Damn, they are good cookies.
Christmas has lost it's spectacle for me, and perhaps some of its lustre as well, but I am still
enthrawled by the season. Whatever my age, I would always manage to grab a few moments
of solitude by our living room tree, in the dark, with only the treelights glowing. That practice,
in fact, led to a ritual with myself, my best friend Brian and a few others from time to time that
we called 'tree talks'. They would either take place at 26 Keppler or 5 Sheahan and we
would wax intellectual about life and all of its intricacies...and mostly what girls we had crushes
on. As corny as it sounds, I would tape the network Christmas specials EVERY dang year - the
lineup included 'Rudolph' in claymation, 'Charlie Brown Christmas', the Alf Christmas special
and many other cheesy heartstring pullers. I was a sucker for that crap. Perhaps it is because
I have always been convinced of another land, time or place where real magic happens in the
sense of everyone being accepted and foundationally happy at the core of their beings. I
guess it's holidays like Christmas that kinda lose their meaning (as it is historically shown that
Jesus was born in the fall and not december 25th, year 0000) but create their own significance
as it's really all about getting together in community (mostly family centered but friend
inclusive) and letting the ones close to you know that they are loved. It should be a time of
re-inforcement and letting our lacking human love point to one that is perfect, thus giving us
hope and inspiration in all things. And maybe, just maybe, we can all be like Johnny Cash and
wear a little black from time to time, remembering the less fortunate and spiritually downtrodden,
doing whatever we can to come to their aid.
