"I think the only purpose for paper calendars anymore is to showcase grade school art."

On the twelfth day of the twelfth month in the twelfth year of the Twentyfirst Century…people celebrated 'n despaired…twelve is a fortuitous number, so they say, 'n superstitious people attach a great deal of importance to what is essentially a made-up timetable that exists solely for the convenience of a handful of people who believe themselves t'be 'way more important to their little corner of the universe than events otherwise dictate…..whew….

Many civilizations 'n societies have devised calendars, usually derived from other calendars, etcetera ad infinitum…

Y'got your Gregorian calendar which wuz basically a sequel to the Julian calendar 'n your Islamic calendar 'n the Hindu calendar…the Islamic calendar is basically a lunar calendar based on the phases of the moon while the Persian calendar is a solar calendar based on the seasonal changes of the sun…then y'got your luni-solar calendar which the Jews 'n the Chinese 'n the Indians prefer…the ancient Egyptians had one based on the planet Venus but that wuz once upon a time, a long time ago…

You can make a calendar based on durn near anything you want…Heck!  Those little short calendars that people make up are generally called time-tables…

There's a lot of people that believe that Mayan calendar predicts the end of the world 'n that the only safe place t'be is on a mountaintop somewhere in France but the local gendarmerie (fuzz) ain't letting anybody camp up there 'til the end of the world is over 'n done with…

I had a Timex watch back in the '60's that wuz programmed clear thru the turn of the century 'n I think the Mayan calendar wuz programmed about as far ahead as their programmers could get before they just got tired 'n gave up or maybe that wuz when the Spaniards came t'call...

I m'self believe that people who fret about the end of the world just simply got 'way too much time on their hands 'n should probably watch more mindless television...I think on December 21, all the power companies should shut off the power for like ten minutes just to make people freak out...

"On December 21, people'll be making rapture jokes like there's no tomorrow."

History is a pack of lies about events that never happened told by people who weren't there. 

George Santayana 

Oaks Hardware in Ol Fair Oaks went out of business this week after 75 years…co-incidentally, this's my 75th year but I ain't planning t'go out of business anytime soon…It ain't in my grand scheme 'n I don't have a Plan B...

You don't hear people talking much about the 'Grand Scheme' these dayz…not sure why that is, p'haps we've become far too secular to believe in Grand Schemes or Karma or Destiny…

Use'ta be, in the 'way back when time in the good old US of A, Americans believed in what they called The Manifest Destiny…That, as I'm sure y'all know, was the idea that the United States was destined by God to run the whole shebang from sea to shining sea… Anyway, that wuz the  phrase most often used 'n it meant a lotta different things to a lotta different people…almost right from the get-go…well, maybe not much old G.W. but then he had them false teeth to fret about.. 

Back then, ever'body pretty much believed (or professed to believe anyway) in God the Almighty…matter of fact, I'm pretty sure that He wuz the one that told the Democrats that it was okay to go to war with Mexico so's we c'd lay claim to Texas…countries did a lot of that stuff back in the good old daze…Heck!  We even tried on Canada once't but turned around pretty quick when we found out that we'd stepped into a hornets nest…still, we managed by hook or by crook to snooker Oregon away from those pesky Brits 'n sort'a just eased ourselves into California…

T'day, the ACLU 'ud probably put up a fuss but, what the heck, if they'd had their way back then, the whole middle of the country would be over-run with indigenous peoples vying for space with bison…

When the years start adding up on you it just kind'a makes you wonder what might 'a been, if you'da just done things a little different 'n then you think how hist'ry might'a been altogether different…but the thing is, no matter how you try, you can't really re-write hist'ry…Hist'ry is hist'ry, warts 'n all 'n there ain't a darn thing y'can do about it….

American history is longer, larger, more various, more beautiful, and more terrible than anything anyone has ever said about it. 

James A. Baldwin 

“Christmas can be celebrated in the school room with pine trees, tinsel and reindeers, but there must be no mention of the man whose birthday is being celebrated. One wonders how a teacher would answer if a student asked why it was called Christmas.” 

― Ronald Reagan

So a coupla years ago, fed up with the ever-expanding Battle of the Tree thing (Thanksgiving seems to trigger sumthing in women)…'n tired of the trekking here 'n there in search of the perfect tree (don't exist, never did) 'n pretty much fed up in general over finding, buying, transporting 'n dragging here 'n dragging there (let's try a different room)…anyhow, while dawdling thru the 'Christmas Section' at Costco, sumthin' snapped when 'She' remarked that 'we should really just get one of these artificial trees!'

Which is what we did…a 7 footer, loaded with lites, never needing water, just put up 'n take down, store it away in a closet 'n take it out next year….

But the durn thing is heavy, even in sections 'n takes a lot of closet space…if you have a closet large enuff to stuff 7 feet of Christmas tree inside in the first place…'n then there're the directions:  It's taken me many years 'n much frustration to learn the sad truth about directions (a chore I'll leave you to find out on your own, durn your hide)…Funny thing about directions…in the beginning, they're 47 pages long, printed in a dozen different languages, all warning of cataclysmic results if you don't get everything exactly 'n precisely right…the first time…

At the end of the 3rd year, howsumever, when you find the dogeared remnants of those 47 pages, you have one sad 'n lonely little tear-stained page showing an incomprehesible diagram of what purports t'be a Christmas tree but could just as easily be a dollhouse…..

And, y'know, if you have a tree already strung with lites, why you won't have to fool with untangling all those strings of colored lites that Uncle Noah left you after he parked the ark on that darn mountaintop….but when they don't work as they're supposed t'do, the frustration level will cause you to grit your teeth until your jaw hurts 'n you develop a headache that'll take at least 3 Dos Equis or 2 very large glasses of wine to ameliorate….('n yes, I use the word ameliorate on purpose)…

'N all that before you have to come to grips with 'DECORATIONS'…when it's up the ladder 'n down 'n wudn't it look better on this side or maybe higher or lower (I tho't it wuz nice in the box)…'n the kicker, "The girls are coming over to help!"

Talking about the g'daughters, of course…t'ain't like it wuz the gov't knocking on the door claiming t'be here to help, altho' the outcome is often the same…still, I like having the girls come over to hang decorations if only becuz it means that I won't have t'do it m'self 'n the situation will be 'ameliorated' 'n I c'n Dos Equis myself into a winters afternoon nap...

But, y'know what ('n this's sumthin' that's only taken me three quarters of a century to learn)…it really ain't about the durn tree at all…t'is the season t'be frustrated with little things so that when you're finally confronted with the big picture 'n all the ghosts of Christmas past, you'll understand that Christmas is for those who believe…that anything is possible.

"From a commercial point of view, if Christmas in the village didn't exist, we'd have to invent it….ooh, wait a minnit, we did!"

A bright, sun-shiny mornin' here in Ol Fair Oaks 'n I c'n hear the caroling of the somewhat Feral Fowl…I make that disclaimer 'cuz the Chicken Wrangler lives acros't the street 'n she makes several tours 'round 'n about our fair Village daily, toting a 5 gallon bucket of chicken feed…

Yest'iday, she had a young 'un perched parrot-like on her shoulder…said an older woman came up to her, pushed the chick into her hands, said, "This's for you!" and ran away….

She sez the chick is still too young to determine the sex but doesn't seem to want to leave her shoulder, even sleeping there at nite…I didn't say anything but, since Rusty is an old dog, he quite often gets me up once or twice a night (well, you know…old bladders)…

T'day is 'Christmas in the Village' day 'n the street is blocked to vehicular traffic so I expect we'll see some turista parking on our little street…they call Crestline an Avenue but they prob'ly had a much grander design in mind when they named it back in the olden daze…..it's only two blocks long 'n one of those blocks is an alley…

I'm familiar with alley's…I grew up in a little cinder 'n gravel street village called Beattyville that wuz pretty much all alley's…everybody called it Beattyville but that wuzn't its real name…I think the real name wuz Thompson Tract after the family that had owned the property…but nobody ever called it that…

Anywaze, it's a pretty holly, jolly Christmas here in the Village…on our morning stroll, da boyz 'n I wuz serenaded by names out'a the past…Gene Autry 'n Burl Ives, Tony Bennett 'n der Bingle 'n Alvin 'n the Chipmunks…not that da boyz really paid 'em any mind…far as they're concerned, it's all just ambient noise, I think, but Heck, they were all familiar t'me...

"There are people who want to hug you simply 'cuz it's Christmas; there are other people who want to strangle you for the same reason."

A Christmas Carol.....

"O'er the river 'n thru the woods…'  

Well, not so woody anymore in this year of our Lord, 2012, when criss-crossing freeways cover our fair land with macadam, but t'is the season…Anyhow, we fired up the old go-machine 'n took a little drive…our destination was that most politically correct town of Davis, home of the future bio-farmers of the world 'n bicycle enthusiasts everyone…excepting, of course, the Prius owners…

What we were headed for, some 40 miles due west of Ol Fair Oaks, wuz the hallowed halls of Emerson Junior High 'n their most decidedly p'litically incorrect performance of 'A Christmas Carol'….a show that was cancelled once becuz it conflicted with the beginning of Hannakuh, altho' it wuz never adequately explained why these holidays (which have existed quite peacefully for several thousand years) were actually at odds….

Anyhow, the school relented somewhat (no performance on Sat'iday, the actual 1st day of Hannakuh) 'n the show did go on….'n the Emerson Junior High troupe of performers spoke their lines bravely 'n forthrightly enuff to warm the crusty old cockles of an aspiring curmudgeons heart…(didn't do anything for old backsides spending almost two hours on a folding chair, but that's another whiny story)…

I think it wuz stated in the playbill, that Miz Smith had presided over 18 productions at Emerson Junior High 'n I c'n truthfully say that every one of them wuz absolutely delightful (assuming you're a fan of middle-schoolers everywhere) 'n Miz Smith's Mother wuz tearfully proud (or proudly tearful, your choice)

A Christmas Carol is prob'ly Charley Dickens most famous work 'n not, in my view leastways, overly religious in tone so it puzzles me a bit that anyone of any religion (or lack thereof) could criticize it on the grounds of separation of church 'n state…still, as someone once said, "There is science, logic 'n reason and then there is California."  

Seems like the older I get, the more puzzling life becomes….

Blah, blah, blah.....

"Ev'ry cloud has a silver lining, I guess…on these damp, grey, miserable, rainy daze, a body c'n really enjoy a bad mood."

Got the winter blahs, I guess….Millyrose asked me if I wuz sick or just still down in the mouth over the election...

I think maybe it's just the rainy season 'n the dark skies cuz I ain't sick at all 'n the election wuz just a damfool waste of ever'bodys time…

The news is depressing, howsumever, as all they c'n seem to talk about is that durn 'fiscal cliff' that we're all gonna go over…what gets me going tho' is the fact that it all seems t'be smoke 'n mirrors with our showbizness president…he's making a big stink about negotiating with the republicans when I'm pretty sure it ain't about that at all…you got to watch this man, when he's waving one hand 'n crying wolf, you c'n bet that his other hand is picking your pocket…it's the way he's operated since he first came on the p'litical scene….

Anyway, I don't think that's what has me feelin' blue as I've sort'a adopted a wait 'n see attitude cuz when the bottom drops out, I'm gonna get to say "I told you so." to a whole bunch of people who I won't embarrass here by naming names but to quote brother John again, "You know who you are!"

I think it's just the absence of sunshine…seems like I've become addicted to blue skies…makes me understand why people back in the 'states go to tanning parlors….

So, I've had two naps t'day already 'n it ain't over yet…da boyz keep a close watch on me 'n if it looks like I'm heading for the bedroom, they run in 'n jump on the bed…I don't know who's training who…..

Lookin' forward to some chili t'nite…maybe I'll sneak in there when Millyrose ain't lookin' 'n add some more cayenne to the mix…'course, if I do that, she'll know after the first couple bites 'n I'll be in  trubble ag'in….(maybe I'll just wait 'n add it to my own dish instead ~ life's easier when you don't go lookin' for a fight)…

"Christmas is coming, the geese are getting fat.

Please put a penny in the old man's hat.

If you haven't got a penny, a ha-penny will do,

If you haven't got a ha-penny, then God bless you."

Anon…(one of my favorite authors)

"The average dog is a much nicer person than the average person."

Two walks in, one still a little wet, t'other, almost dry…one left to do this evening…

Crestline looks a bit bedraggled this fine day after the wind 'n the rain…it wuz a pretty good blow, as I've heard said, I just can't recall where it wuz that I heard it….

Anywaze….the sun came out 'n so did we…walked down the street 'n around the block, sniffed here 'n sniffed there, hiked a plethora of times just to prove the existence of DOG, I guess, 'n got back home in time for Millyrose to get to Costco in time for lunch (polish sausage for her 'n froze yogurt for me) 'n a few other things of greater or lesser import…

Now, as the sun inches toward the west, norCal seems t'be returning to its normal, vapid self which don't hurt my feelings at all, at all since evidently age itsownself is making me more vapid than I ever tho't possible…(sighhhh…., spendin' my time watchin' my beard grow)…

Got almost enthralled (yawn) watching Geitner 'n Boehner on teevee….think it might'a been Andy Rooney who told about the 50-50-90 rule which applies in a bi-partisan way politically:  "Anytime you have a 50-50 chance of getting something right, there's a 90% probability you'll get it wrong."

It's my personal belief that Obama wants to take the country over that fiscal cliff they keep talking about so's he can blame it on the Republicans; 'n it is entirely possible that the Republicans might also want to go over that self-same cliff so's they can blame it on Obama….

I figure people generally accept facts as truth only if the facts agree with what they already believe….