110 Years Ago Today...

...soldiers in trenches initiated a <Joyeux Noel>. 

There was nothing formal or official about this temporary cease-fire, nothing negotiated at the top of the food chain by the leaders of the nations at war.

It was just a spontaneous act on the part of men away from home, engaged at the very beginning of what would come to be known as "The Great War" and "The War To End All Wars".

Those were misnomers of course, and this brief interlude in the insanity of mechanized slaughter on a scale previously unknown to mankind did not, could not last.

But for much of that Christmas Day 110 years ago, men laid down arms and put aside differences, met each other in the middle, shook hands...

...exchanged small gifts and enjoyed a welcome if too brief respite from the insane business of death.

It did not last, of course - nothing man made can or ever will last - but it did capture, however briefly, the essence of this holiday.

God sent His Son for our salvation, and the day will come when "the government shall be upon His shoulder".

In that time, yet future, there will be peace on earth, good will to men...The Prince of Peace will make it so.

Until that day we soldier on in this broken world, seeking solace and peace wherever it may be found, however briefly.

I hope you and yours were able to gather on this holy day and experience the peace and hope of God and the blessings of friends and family.

Merry Christmas, mcm fans...

What Does A 4 Year Old Do…

...when he doesn’t want to listen to you?  

He covers his ears, of course.

It's a childish response that we expect but should not tolerate from immature children.

Incredibly, that's exactly what <General Postmaster Louis Dejoy> did in response to criticism leveled at him about his dandy performance as top banana at the USPS.

Under his expert guidance <they lost $9.5 billion> this year - $3 billion more than last year - yet when asked how would grade his performance, he gave himself an A.

The expected - and probably well-deserved - verbal lashing soon began, and that's when he literally covered his ears.

I'm surprised he didn't also start chanting "I'm not listening!" -

great movie and you gotta love Billy Crystal

- a la Miracle Max in The Princess Bride.

Apparently he only looks like an adult; emotionally, he's still in diapers.

If you've ever wondered "what the heck is wrong with the US Postal Service?" -

- now you know.

Winding down a fairly big tech change on the home front.

2 weeks ago during a snow storm, some unfortunate hammered an AT&T substation housing cables and equipment that provided internet to our neighborhood.

probably should have taken the bus at exit 2 instead

After that we were without internet and our land line, and I was struggling daily to connect to work with an unreliable hotspot.

Since they could neither fix it nor provide an ETA, we eventually gave up and switched from AT&T to Spectrum for internet.

Ok, go ahead and yawn...

...I'm bored, too...but I will say, prior to this egregious outage, we had a pretty good run with AT&T.

Theirs was a unique setup between internet, a land line, and DirecTV that wirelessly broadcast their TV signal within our home.

7 years ago it took a lot of equipment to have cable TV without all the cables...that's a wireless transmitter on the left, and all connections for the receivers near the TV's scattered throughout our home.  I should note the colored vases are not technically necessary for this setup...

But here's the thing...Spectrum's cable modem and wifi router now take the place of all that equipment and all those wires.

Amazing.

We subscribed to Youtube TV to replace DirecTV, and...

...to handle our land line.

my favorite phone of all time: 1927 Western Electric 102-B1 rotary dial.  doubles nicely as a blunt heavy object in an emergency.

Besides eliminating the tech equipment sprawl, we also reduced monthly expenses.

So all of this moves us firmly into the camp of those who have cut the cable for TV, and I suppose we owe a debt of gratitude to whoever crashed into AT&T's substation.

So here's to you, hapless stranger!

You simplified our tech footprint and saved us a few simoleons to boot.

You may remember a few years ago Karen and I toured a lovely <Gatsby House> when we were tempted to do something stupid, like buy it.

Cooler heads prevailed, we took a pass on it, and the owners eventually settled for $125K less than their original asking price.

Well 'Tis The Season and we happened across this enchanting picture of the Gatsby House on social media, all lit up for Christmas:

love the garland and all the wreaths

Delightfully art deco, a true treat for the eyes, but still happy we didn't overreach and buy it.

Hard to believe, but it's even more overpriced today than it was then.

It's also still on a too busy street, still sitting shoulder to shoulder next to homes half its value, and still looking at the backsides of mansions on the other side of the street...and those folks are the ones with the million $$ view of the lake.

Lord willing, our next place will have a little more land around it...

that'll do

...and be a little farther out in the country than we are now.

Or not; we'll see what God has in mind for us when that time comes.

"You know," Karen offered the other night, "in less than a week it's Christmas, and in less than 2 weeks it's New Years."

"Thanks," I replied, "in one brief sentence you just dispatched what's left of 2024."

But she's right...it's all racing upon us...

 

...and will soon be in the rearview mirror.

I've often lamented how quickly time slips through our fingers as we age.

Part of that is no doubt simple mathematics:

When you're 10 years old, a year is fully 10% of your entire existence topside of planet earth, so it takes for-ev-er to get through another.

As I rapidly close in on 7 decades, another year is barely 1.4% of my life so yeah...that zips on by a whole lot faster than when I was a kid.

Some of it is probably also experience...over time it's easy to succumb to the "been there done that" syndrome and become dismissive of people and events.

When you mentally / emotionally press the fast forward button because "there's nothing new here" you end up missing out on details that actually matter.

And a pretty significant piece of this unpleasant puzzle is simply the era in which we live:

Life really is moving faster than ever before.

In the early days of my career, if a customer needed info "right now", we copied files to mag tape...

...boxed it up and sent it out UPS Next Day Air, hoping they'd get it within 24 to 48 hours (weekends excluded).

Now we expect instantaneous results, and amazingly, often get them.

Email, ftp, text messaging, instant messaging...the list of options goes on, but they've all come with a cost:

The lines between work and leisure are blurred, often beyond recognition.

When was the last time you really and truly "unplugged"?

(Note: forgetting where you left your cell phone...

...for a few panic stricken moments doesn't count.)

None of us can stay the inexorable forward march of time, but all of us can commit to being present in each moment and making the most of however much time God gives us here.

Moses knew of what he spoke, and we would be wise to take heed.

As we put on our running shoes in preparation for what's next, please note:

Even though I did in fact swing my hickories several times this past week...

l to r: walking stick/club stand, long spoon, short spoon, lofting iron, putter

...I spared you the details.

You're welcome; let's 23 Skidoo, and start with some Twitchy memes...

Ahhh!  Turn it off!   Turn it off!

exciting!  but they better not mess with the happy endings

if they promise to keep her, they can call her anything they want

...segue to the funny pages...

 

if I knew what any of that meant I'm sure I'd be impressed

in the "so bad it's good" department

no worries...the next time won't be a flood...see <2 Peter 3:10>

...and finish with a few random pics of life in the slow lane:

not positive how a Christmas gnome and a large ceramic cat landed under my mcm aluminum Christmas tree, but I'm about to round up the usual suspect.

early morning view of our courtyard after a recent snow...

...and of our backyard

Less than a week 'til the big day...shopping all done?  Gifts all wrapped?  Cards sent, house decorated, treats made, carols sung, Christmas specials / movies watched, and all the stuff you forgot to do done?

Either way, you're probably about as ready as you're going to be.

I say we take a load off, relax for a few and meditate on why we celebrate this joyous holiday...

...what do you say?

Merry Almost Christmas, mcm fans...

Santa's Not The Only One...

...flying experimental aircraft in the December skies. 

He and his team have lots of company lately - obviously drones - but no one in an official capacity is willing to say <what they are or who's responsible>.

White House Nat'l Insecurity non-Communications Dope John Kirby...

...speculates they're probably just kittens who've lost their mittens and can't tell where to find them.

Either that or traditional manned aircraft...you know, Cessna 152's that have somehow developed amazing flight maneuverability since the last time anyone checked.

In further enlightening palaver, Kirby mumbled...

"Why don't we know? I wish I could tell you exactly why we don't have an answer for you here in the afternoon on the 13th of December, but I can tell you that we are working on it very, very hard to know..." 

His voice trailed off as he slowly evaporated like an inconsequential mist under a noon time sun.

It's stunning to realize just how stupid these people really are.

Incredibly, they're even dumber than they think we are.

History is going to look back at this time frame in wonder that so many pointless idiots...

...managed to seize power, and all at the same time.

In less stressful news, I golfed in the snow for the first time:

Ok, it was just starting so maybe doesn't count, but it was actually snowing a little which was kinda fun.

Due to a stiff west wind, I over shot the first green...

...and definitely landed in the rough.

Made a dandy recovery shot with my lofting iron however, up the hill and back toward the green...

...and almost birdied the first hole.

The rest was about what I expect when I walk 9 on Ryan's course...

one putt for par

...only a lot colder.  Even so, a good time was had by all...er, me.

Can it be spring time now?

I touched on the subject of Christmas cards recently...

...which transported me back to my innocent youth, watching my mother work through a long list of typewritten names and addresses.

Each of these received a card with a handwritten note - in perfect cursive - of seasonal greetings.

Though happening during a festive season, she seemed far from happy with this Christmas task.

After sealing up yet another envelope and affixing a 5 cent stamp to her handiwork, I ventured a question.

"Do we know all these people?"

"Not really," she sighed, reaching for another card.

"They're business associates of your father."

"Does he know all of them?" I marveled.

"Go play now," she replied, dismissing me and my childish curiosity.

Based on my mom's attitude toward this clearly unpleasant task, as the years clicked on by I eventually decided Christmas cards, like fruitcakes...

...were one of those holiday land mines to be avoided at all costs.

This belief was reinforced by the occasional Christmas letter we received.

These usually arrived enclosed in a Christmas card - a kind of year end double whammy brag fest, enumerating in mind foggingly dull minutia the perfection achieved by the Farkenheimer's or Gallywagger's or Brunhoffers...

"...and Bif and Muffy were both accepted to Harvard at the same time Elwood was voted Grand High Poobah of the Polar Bear lodge and I won Secretary of the Year at the "Super Duper Diapers" Divisional Headquarters..."

And to think the only thing of note I did that year was master the art of making unpleasant noises by placing a hand in my armpit and flapping my wing like a chicken.

So given my understandable childhood bias, how is it I'm now sending out both Christmas cards and a letter to a handful of friends and acquaintances?

This is easily explained in one word.

And no, that word is not "retribution".

It's "attitude".

Far from an obligation, I now realize it's a serendipitous opportunity during a truly blessed time of year when we celebrate the birth of our Savior, to share heartfelt wishes for a Happy Christmas season and a prosperous new year.

And as far as the letter goes, at my age I've been slapped around by life enough to know I've got nothing to brag about.

As Paul wrote in I Corinthians 4:7:

"...what hast thou that thou didst not receive?  now if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not received it?" 

All we are, all we have, all we achieve in life are gifts from God; our attitude should reflect gratitude, not pride.

And truly, after all these years, what have I got to be proud about?

I can't even make those unpleasant noises with my armpit anymore.

(Ok admit it; you just tried, didn't you?)

Just another in a continuing series of humiliations visited on me by the scourge of advancing years.

And don't laugh, or I'll add you to my Christmas card list next year.

You've been warned.

Enough already!  I say we 23 Skidoo while we still have what's left of our wits about us.

Let's start with some comic strip wisdom:

looks like Santa's been knocking back some of Grandpa's Cough Medicine again

for us normal mortals, it's a horse

"crazy" is prima facie evidence; cop the plea and hope for mercy

it's one of life's cruelest ironies that we cannot truly appreciate the magic elixir of youth until it's gone

he's been the real leader ever since Butler, Pa

...and segue into real life vignettes...

last sunrise of the year at Larry's cottage...he and his dad are closing it for the winter today

Loki lurking...glad I'm not a mouse

quintessential mcm Christmas...

...and the Grinch up to his old tricks

just because I miss him (the Model T, not the photobomber)

Less than 2 weeks, folks.

You probably have 4 or 5 more days of frantic anxiety-fueled mayhem before you're finally flattened by unreasonable Christmas expectations.

Who knows?

Maybe once you let go of the externals and the chaos and the frills of the season, you'll find the peace that Elijah the prophet did in I Kings chapter 19:

God calls to each of us, but rarely in the tumult and the shouting.

'Tis the season, mcm fans...