On Christmas

It’s funny how what Christmas “is” has changed me as I get older. Like most others, Christmas as a kid for me was about Christmas morning. It was about what I was going to get. It was about that big box with the Millennium Falcon, or those smaller boxed with that year’s Mario Brothers game. It’s funny, though, looking back at all those years when I was a kid, I don’t exactly remember all the presents I got, except for those few.

Here are a few of the things I do remember, though, which I think will illustrate what Christmas is to me now:

Christmas Eve (night) service at our little Methodist church in my hometown. Average attendance on a random Sunday morning was in the eighties or nineties (I know this because my best friend’s grandfather Emil used to count parishioners each Sunday). On Christmas Eve, though, they had to open the double doors that separated the sanctuary from one of the Sunday School classrooms. This was the church version of “standing room only”.

I remember getting dressed in the new Christmas outfit (most likely a fetching silk shirt in those days), feeling like George Clooney must feel every day. I was a lady killer, I tell ya. In church at least, though I never did get a date out of it. The ladies were most likely too shy, I’m sure.

Christmas night after church was always special. My parents always had a cool treat waiting for us to eat, home made cheeseball and crackers, or some peanut bark and some meltaways. We’d stay up a bit and watch television, us kids knowing Christmas was only a slumber away, and also knowing this slumber would be nearly impossible due to the excitement.

My sister and I would sleep in the same room, partly because it was TRADITION(!) and partly so one would know exactly when the other was awake so we could formulate our gameplan in getting the parents to wake. It was the strict rule in our household that no presents could be opened until the entire family was around the tree. This rule was, in fact, never broken.

I used to make “comic books” to read to my sister on Christmas Eve night. I’d compile comics from the comics page of the local newspaper, selecting only the best and Garfield, Peanuts, and Calvin and Hobbes comics for my book. I’d glue them to construction paper and then staple them into a booklet. This was also TRADITION, and I did it for many years, possibly well past the time she really wanted me to do this. Still, TRADITION(!).

Christmas morning was CHRISTMAS MORNING, thanks to the generosity of my parents. This requires a whole other post. I will note here that the most agonizing Christmas mornings were the ones where the big day fell on Sunday. This was rough because we’d open our gifts then immediately have to get ready for church. Church on those days was the longest 45 minutes of a kid’s life, because you’d sit there thinking about all the cool new stuff you got but couldn’t play with because you were in church!

I remember Christmas lunch at my great Aunt Sandy’s house. Looking back, I took these most for granted. I mean look, it was a huge feast, for free, with all my family, my Grandma was still alive, and we got to exchange more gifts after everybody was done eating. One of the bits I underestimated the most was Cookie-ocolypse in the downtime between meals. Each family would make several different types of cookies and bring them to my aunt’s house. Then they’d put them on the table and swap. It’s no exaggeration when I say there had to be a thousand cookies there. All homemade. It was TRADITION.

The next day, or a couple days later we’d always drive out to see my other Grandma and my aunts and uncles and cousins out near Pittsburgh. I’d always hate to leave home because we were leaving our new gifts behind and also because it was a 4 hour car ride. Of course when it was time to come home from my Grandma’s house I’d always be in tears when we were leaving because I knew I’d miss everyone.

I remember how when we would get to my Grandma’s house she’d always give me a hug and tell me how handsome I was. Her eyesight was failing, but I believed her just the same. I’m sure it embarrassed me at the time but boy do I miss this.

I remember how she used to never herself sit at the table to eat until the rest of use were done eating our “bowties” and chicken and broccoli (boiled and sprinkled with lemon). No wonder she’d fall asleep in her chair, watching television with us at night.

I could go on and on with the things I remember about Christmas. Maybe I will some other day. Those of you who have made it this far in this post, I commend you. And I ask of you this:

Have a Merry Christmas. Why don’t you, for me, give all your loved ones a little bit longer squeeze when you give them a hug. Just because you can. I know I will mine.

How Come We Play War and Not Peace

Click comic for full size

I came across this Calvin and Hobbes today and had to share. I feel like I should delete the stuff in the “About Me” here and just post this comic.  I can’t think of anything that sums up what I’m about more than this one. Man, could we all benefit from Calvin and Hobbes on a daily basis.

The (new) Electric Company

Anybody remember The Electric Company tv show from when you were a kid? To be honest, I have vague memories about it. I remember Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers much more. Anyhow, there is a new Electric Company show on PBS, and my 4 year old is really into it. I have to admit that I am too.

You can learn more about  The Electric Company here (this is a link the the parent’s materials). It’s a good show. If you have a contract with the evil Comcast like I do, you can watch episodes for free “On Demand”. You can also watch free episodes at the pbskids.org website. My daughter likes to watch episodes multiple times (over the course of a week or so), which is repetitive, but also helps her learn.

Last night I printed out an activity for my daughter about the “silent e”. I cut out fourteen pieces of paper. I had my daughter draw a lowercase “e” on one sheet and I wrote words such as “bit”, “cap”, “mad”, and “scrap” on the other pieces of paper, per the instructions. I had my daughter read the words, then we added the “e” at the end and observed what this did to transform the words. We had a lot of fun with this. She surprised me, of course, with how many of the words she got on her own.

Anyhow, it was a fun little game to play. I wanted to share it here with all of you, in case you wanted to try it as well.

Terry Pratchett,Trinity College Dublin,Nov 2010

Just came across this speech Terry Pratchett gave in Dublin at Trinity College in November of this year. A very interesting and of course funny talk, as to be expected from Sir Terry. It goes a bit into how his reading as a kid and how that fueled his writing. This is the part I think would be beneficial even to those writers not familiar with his writing. Also, he gets a cool hat at the end.

The Rule of Three

First, Mumford & Sons. Just because.

Now onto the post. Monday, at my writing group meeting, somebody brought up the “rule of three“. I hadn’t heard of the rule of three, really, but I didn’t ask what it was. Luckily, somebody else in the group asked. Here’s a description from wikipedia:

The rule of three is a principle in writing that suggests that things that come in threes are inherently funnier, more satisfying, or more effective than other numbers of things. The reader/audience to this form of text is also more likely to consume information if it is written in groups of threes. From slogans (“Go, fight, win!”) to films, many things are structured in threes. There were three musketeers, three little pigs, three billy goats Gruff, Goldilocks and the three bears, three blind mice and three Stooges.

A series of three is often used to create a progression in which the tension is created, then built up, and finally released. Similarly, adjectives are often grouped together in threes in order to emphasize an idea.

So I’ve spent some time researching the “rule of three”. Some interesting stuff our there, including this pretty good article by Stephen Cannell (creator of A-Team and Greatest American Hero).

Anybody else spent some time thinking about the rule of three? Use it in your writing?

Timey Wimey

“Intellect and romance triumph over brute force and cynicism”
Would-be opening from Doctor Who episode of Craig Ferguson Show

From time to time I like to share with you all stuff I find cool that I think you would enjoy. This is one of those times.

Let me preface this by saying that yes indeed, this is a Doctor Who story. I don’t think you have to be a Doctor Who fan to like this story, though. If you like time travel stories, you will like this one. Give it a try!

What am I talking about? Well, the other day I came across this short story, Continuity Errors, written by current show runner and writer Steven Moffat. And it’s a good one. It’s a timey wimey one (some of you know what I mean). It’s a story that stuck with me, in fact.

And it made me think. Would this be how it is, if time travel was real? Would people be able to go back and tweak things such that they eventually match the desired outcome of events of the traveler? Would the rest of us even know? Has this already happened?

Anyhow, give it a read and let me know. The structure of the story may be a bit confusing at first (it was to me), but stick with it. I think it pays off in the end.