Christmas Shopping (Stories About Me)

It's a major shopping day for most retailers and - I suppose - the first official shopping day of the Christmas Season.  Time was, I liked to get out in all the "bustle" and mingle with the crowd and pick up a few gifts.  That adventure doesn't hold much value with me any more, people are not especially jovial any more.

This "Story About Me" would often come about as we approached the holiday season....

When I was a kid, living in Cedartown, Georgia, our family always seemed to manage to fit in one or two trips to Atlanta for Christmas Shopping each year.  These occasions were pretty memorable, sometimes they might include some "pre-gift" purchases like a fancy pair of cowboy boots (the pointy toes of which exactly matched the indentations in my big sister's shins), a coat or maybe a book.

On a typical shopping day, we would split up with a plan to meet back at a certain time.  At some point early on I wanted to be with Dad because he would typically work his way over to the "Nut Center" and buy a bag of chocolate covered peanuts.

These visits would aways include a visit to the pinnacle of retail department stores in the south: Rich's.  Many times the one at the Greenbriar Mall in Marietta...

...but in the early days, it was always the downtown Rich's in Atlanta (think "Macy's" on Miracle on 34th Street).  It was a mecca of multi-story shopping, but most of all, it was the home of The Pink Pig ...

...I am pretty sure I remember riding the Pink Pig at least once when it soared (soared?) above the heads of shoppers in the toy department.  I know I rode it at least once when it was stationed outside on the roof of Rich's (for another -more detailed- description of the experience read Chris Queen's post from last year).

On some of these trips, I might end up hanging around with my much older brother and sister - I was under the impression that they didn't want me around, but perhaps that wasn't really the case.  They liked to pick on me and of course, I enjoyed being obnoxious; but they also served as a buffer between me and the disappointments of growing up.

On one particular trip while I was in the company of my siblings, I saw my Dad taking a scooter across the parking lot.  I knew it was mine, my brother and sister were too old for scooters, they tried to convince me that Dad was probably just helping the people at the store.  Despite my childish naivete, I didn't buy it.  I think I began to doubt Santa Claus at that point. 

My scooter was not quite this vintage - picture a trimmed
down 1960's version in powder blue without the fins

Fortunately, I received the scooter as a gift from Mom and Dad - before Christmas.

Those shopping trips would usually run late into the evening and if I played my cards right, I could go to sleep in the back seat (sometimes in the floorboard - an unheard of luxury today) and if I remained asleep when we got home (or was able to mount a convincing performance) - I could get carried into the house.

I remember one weeknight trip, my sister and I took with Mom after school, we did some quick shopping in Cobb County.  On our return trip, I remember how thrilled I was to see snowflakes - LARGE, fluffy snowflakes - peppering the windshield in a mesmerizing fashion.  As the glorious white substance accumulated, we barely made it over the arching railroad bridge on East Avenue.  Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I later learned that school was cancelled for the next day. 

What a magical Season, indeed!

Almost Done With ... Walmart

This will not be a hate-Walmart post. 

I am of the opinion that most people that go on and on complaining about Walmart probably dislike the organization simply because it is an icon of American capitalism. Therefore it is capitalism - not Walmart - that they truly hate.

I am not one of those - in fact I find myself vigorously defending Walmart (albeit quietly and within small circles) for the most part because of its testimony to the powerful effects of the free market.

However, due to recent incidents, I am considering limiting my purchases from the retail giant.  I am - at least for awhile - done with buy wheat straw from Walmart.

Before I recently pawned off my two hay-consuming quadra-peds, it was necessary for me to occasionally supplement their diet with hay.  On my last attempt to purchase hay from the Garden Center at Walmart, I arrived with my son on a Saturday morning, before the crowds arrived. AA and I walked around in the Garden Center for a time - there was no cashier there yet so we worked our way up front.

Hesitantly, I went to the open register - I was hesitant because I had done the same thing on an earlier trip to Walmart and the cashier could not ring up wheat straw...

I will give them this much - they are consistent.

As we made our request ..."would like to buy some wheat straw" she did not seem to know how to reply (no ChicFilA "My PLEASURE!" here).  Soon she brought in the apparent Lead cashier who informed us that we could make that purchase in the Garden Center. 

Upon learning that no one was back there, she proceeded to try and find a price they could charge me.

Eventually she called and apparently found a cashier back in the Garden center who gave a price and a code.  The lead cashier told the regular cashier and the regular cashier told me ... then she began to complete the transaction however....

...the little lights on the screen facing me all worked together to form the words "Pine Straw". 

"Wait, that says 'pine straw'  - I wanted 'WHEAT straw'" - I protested.

The regular cashier told the lead cashier - "that was 'pine straw'"
"Isn't that what you said?" replied the lead cashier to me.
Now I had listened real closely to everything I said and I am certain I said "wheat straw".
When I assured her that I needed WHEAT straw she asked me if I could just go back to the Garden Center.

That's when I felt my inner Big Daddy rise up.

My Dad, Big Daddy, would have used this occasion to say something like - "this would be a good place to build a retail store!" and then speak loudly to the embarrassed boy at his side "Remind me not to come here anymore!" as he pointedly walked out.

I curbed my instincts - but only slightly - smiled and said thank you.  AA and I headed for the door.

"Sir, you can go this way" the lead cashier called... assuming that I was so bewildered by the exchange that I couldn't find my way through the store to the Garden Center.

"No Thank you"

And AA and I departed triumphant and frustrated.

I won't be "done with Walmart" at this point but there are some serious cracks in our relationship.

I still believe in this icon of capitalism - simply because that's what it is.  But capitalism doesn't answer all things and losing touch with the life's blood of business - customers is a serious error.

Worst Spanking (Stories About Me)

I am not sure why this story happens to be the first in my new "Stories About Me" category, but it is.

In thinking about these stories, I realized that the telling of these stories may sometimes be different from their original rendering simply because they were sometimes told in conjunction with something we were discussing at the time.

For instance, I used the word "spanking" in my title - mainly because I thought it did not sound as harsh as the word we always used to describe corporal punishment:  "whipping" or in the vernacular - "WHOOPING". . .

It always seemed important for my brother and sister ( who were much older than me) to point out that they received far more whippings than I did as a child.  For some strange reason, this always made me feel guilty - as if I should have demanded spankings at the hands of our parents. I did, in fact, receive fewer spankings, but now I like to point out that it was because I was a much better behaved child.

Being a compliant child, I probably was a little easier to manage - but the fact is, by the time I arrived, my parents were a little more mellow.

I do remember the worst whipping I ever received - in fact if memory serves me correctly - I received TWO whippings on this particular occasion. 

Jim and Ruth Barnette lived next door to us when I was a kid in Cedartown, Georgia.  Next to them, lived my best friend, Steve. 

Steve and I were the same age and had been fast friends since before Kindergarten.  I think sometimes, that it may have been a friendship of convenience but we really did have other kids in the neighborhood.  Unfortunately one was erratic and unpredictable in his behavior and the other was a girl.

Jim and Ruth kept a beautiful yard. There were shrubs, green grass, and flowers - in fact during the early summer we had to move to the far side of the road when walking in front of their house, just to avoid all the "June Bugs". 

I don't know why but on one particular day, Steve and I targeted Jim and Ruth for mischief.
My family had grilled out some time earlier and Steve and I had come upon the idea of mixing the used ashes and charcoal with water to form some sort of brew.  We were always finding reasons to mix stuff with water:  on several occasions we concocted "Ant Cures" and proceeded to pour the compound on ant hills in my yard; another time we discovered that when you briskly stir a charcoal and water mixture, it will produce a foam - like soap - which is why we tried to scrub my patio with it.

So we ended up with a bucket of water and charcoal and nothing to do.

To this day, I do not know who came up with the idea - mischief happens that way, it just kind of evolves- but somehow we noticed that Jim and Ruth were not at home.  So we took our bucket of gray matter over to their carport.  There we commenced to pouring the mixture into just about anything that would hold liquid:  an unoccupied flower pot, a pair of Ruth's outdoor slippers, the indention in the seat of Jim's riding lawn mower.

I seem to remember something deliciously satisfying about darting around from evil deed to evil deed - almost like opening gifts at Christmas.

My memory is fuzzy on details at this point but I do recall running to hide when I heard my Mom calling me.  I think we had already finished our work, but like Adam and Eve - it only took the sound of a voice to snap me back into reality and to allow conviction to seize me.

I remember hiding behind a shrub at the corner of our house.

I think that was when I got my first whipping.
The second one came after Jim talked to my parents - he came to our back door and I remember hearing him say something about not wanting to get us boys in trouble.

To add insult to injury, I later learned that Steve's parents had received a similar call from Jim and -get this - Steve received "a good talking to" from his Dad  . . .

... a good talking to!?!?!

He tried to raise the ante by saying that his Dad could talk pretty hard at times . . . yeah tell that to my behind.

There were all kinds of lessons for me in this little episode.  I learned about conviction, guilt; I learned about how sin can bring momentary pleasure; I think I even learned a little about redemption - once the price was paid for my sin (in this case, my punishment) my relationship to my parents was restored as well as my relationship with the neighbors.

In my life today, redemption still works that way only I trust in One who has ultimately taken the punishment for all of my evil deeds (as well as the evil deeds of Steve and everybody else in the world)  - that having been done, corrects my relationship with my heavenly Father and with everything else in His creation.

A Perspective on Gifts

Over the past year I have not done what most bloggers say that bloggers should do - and that is to read other blogs and post comments.  I usually go to my better half's blog to see if she said anything about me and then on occasion I will use her links to visit a couple of the several "mommy-blogs" in her favorites list.

Today I found a very interesting post on the Lot's of Scotts  blog.  JMom's posts are always heartfelt and each one provides an excellent learning opportunity. 

Earlier this week, she linked to a great post from a site called Rethinking Christmas, which I think presents a proper perspective with which we should launch the upcoming Christmas Season ( which, of course, comes after we have given that understated holiday - Thanksgiving - it's due).

Here's the link to the post:
http://www.rethinkingchristmas.com/?q=node/192

I like the idea that Christmas Gifts should remind us of the Reason we celebrate; the heart with which we give should reflect Christ.

Read it when you have a few quiet moments.

It's Not Them .... Its Us

We just finished a "fine-tooth-comb" study on the book of Jonah in our Wednesday night Family Gathering at church.  Pastor Bill placed a strong emphasis on the fact that the book of Jonah provides a MIRROR in which we can view ourselves - if we dare; it also provides a WINDOW through which we can see God's amazing patience and grace!

Here's a link if you want to read or listen to the study:   http://www.thegreatwhale.blogspot.com/          

With that study as a back drop in my mind and my contemplation of just what should occur in our country after the recent history-making elections . . . I heard a Chuck Colson Breakpoint program on "Repentance".

I highly recommend it.

Stories About Me

I'm launching a new category today.
It will sound a little narcissistic but the category title is "Stories About Me".

When Ab and AA were very small, they liked stories; and one of our mutually favorite past times in the car or at home before bed was for me to tell a "Story About Me". 

Confidentially, I probably liked this mostly because it allowed me to talk about myself in an uninterrupted fashion (I'm just that shallow).  On the other hand, I truly did view it as a means of preserving the family heritage.

Now these were not deep stories and there were no amazing adventures (we didn't sail the Mississippi with Huck Finn) - they were just quaint little tales about memories that stood out for me.. often for no particular reason.

My kids are getting older and have entered a new era, Ab - my middle schooler and AA - nearly nine, they fill any otherwise quiet time with their DSI's or - on better days - with reading.   They hardly ever ask for stories about me anymore.

Once recently, we talked about some of these stories and it occurred to me that they were seeping away from their memories.

One of the intentional purposes of this blog is to provide some written record that our kids can enjoy. 
So from time to time, I will try and throw in one of these "Stories About Me".  Perhaps you will find something there that will trigger a memory or two for you.

My Quest to Save Thanksgiving

My annual quest to save Thanksgiving has begun in earnest in my humble abode.

My kids feigned disgust when they saw all the Christmas decorations going up at the local Walmart, just after Halloween.  Yet now Ab has already uprooted a defenseless little cedar tree from our woods and planted it in a pot of sawdust in her room.  It has been decorated with an aluminum foil covered star and a construction paper chain.

Mind you - this is right down my alley (some of you will remember my caper with a Rustic Christmas Tree last year)- I like old fashion remnants of Christmas . . . but NOT until the proper time.  I argue that to begin the Christmas celebration too early is to invite Christmas fatigue and besides, doing so negates one of our most important holidays - Thanksgiving Day. 

I mean what better way to enter the Yuletide season, than to inaugurate it with a season of thankfulness.

It doesn't help that our local "positive" music station (used to be code for "Christian", but can now mean any music that doesn't entail cussing and - up until recently - anything sung by Miley Cyrus) is now wall to wall Christmas music ... now in the middle of November!

It reminds me of one year that every television station known to man was playing "It's a Wonderful Life" (possibly the best Christmas movie ever made and in my top five all time favorite movies).   I think the movie rights must have expired that year or gone into public domain - anyway it was overkill and "familiarity bred contempt".

So our rides together now often turn into a battle of the radio knob.  Ab diving to the radio to fill the vehicle with the sounds of the Brenda Lee "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" - while I try to manage  the wheel and fend her off at the same time.  All this as I lay out my systematic defense of keeping things in their proper timing and place.

I am persuaded that anticipation is one of the true joys of the Christmas Season - and perhaps understatement is one of the true characteristics of that preceding season...

Here's to a happy thanksgiving day...