December 16: Nice Watch, Christmas Presents, Annie Dillard, A Martha Christmas

Later, because it was Christmas, Ives had somehow felt compelled to leave the nice watch he'd bought his son in the room, instead of returning it to the store.  He put it in his top drawer, as if his boy would come in anytime now to claim it.  That drawer was stuffed with school paraphernalia, prayer cards, baseball cards, playing cards, a Felix the Cat comic that Ives had illustrated himself, years before...

Since Ives' son is killed a few days before Christmas, Ives has already purchased presents for his Robert.  In particular, Ives bought a beautiful wristwatch for him, something suitable for a young man about to enter the seminary.  In addition, at the scene of Robert's murder, a police officer hands Ives a Sam Goody's bag, filled with the gifts Robert had purchased for his father, mother, and sister.  Record albums by the Beatles, Thelonius Monk, and Rosemary Clooney.

Presents are not the reason for Christmas.  Not even close.  We all know that.  I love getting gifts as much as anybody else, but the moment I love the most during the holidays occurs on Christmas Eve, around 11 p.m., at my wife's church.  It's a candlelight communion service, full of quiet music and contemplation.  All the crazy holiday preparation is done, for better or worse.  Christmas has arrived.

My sister, Sally, loved Christmas.  She loved buying presents, seeing the joy on people's faces when they opened them.  She especially loved spoiling her nieces and nephews.  In the weeks leading up to December 25th, she would spend hours baking cookies, wrapping gifts, addressing cards.  Sure, she got overwhelmed sometimes, but she never, ever wanted her family to feel unloved or forgotten at Christmas.

It's going to be a very difficult Christmas this year.  There's going to be emptiness, maybe tears.  It's unavoidable.  This morning, my daughter was so upset about last night's commitment service at the cemetery that she couldn't stop crying.  She stayed home from school today.  There is little I can do to assuage her pain.  Only time will do that.

Christmas is a season of light and giving.  I have to keep reminding myself of that these days.  As I drive home every night, I see trees glowing and blinking in living rooms.  A few nights ago, I watched Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye in White Christmas.  After I'm done typing this post, I will write my annual Christmas letter.  Tonight or tomorrow, I will shop for a few things online.

Christmas is going to come next week, whether I'm ready for it or not.  I know what my sister, Sally, would want me to do, though.  She would want me to make this coming yuletide as holly and jolly as I can.  And that's what I plan to do.  There will be eggnog.  There will be baked ham and pecan pie.  There will be Jimmy Stewart running through the streets of Bedford Falls.  There will be presents.  And there will be Santa Claus.

Saint Marty would never stand in the way of Santa.

from Teaching a Stone to Talk

by:  Annie Dillard

Like everyone in his right mind, I feared Santa Claus, thinking he was God.  I was still thoughtless and brute, reactive.  I knew right from wrong, but had barely tested the possibility of shaping my own behavior, and then only from fear, and not yet from love.  Santa Claus was an old man whom you never saw, but who nevertheless saw you; he knew when you'd been bad or good.  He knew when you'd been bad or good!  And I had been bad...

A Martha Christmas...

May 26: Home for the Holidays, Thunderstorms, "Web" Dip

As I'm typing this, I'm listening to Christmas music.  That's right.  I said Christmas music.  I'm one of those weird people who listen to "White Christmas" and "Sleigh Ride" all year long.  No, I don't have some strange Bing Crosby or Rosemary Clooney fetish.  Christmas music just makes me happy.

The sky is getting dark outside my window.  Thunderstorms are moving in for the afternoon.  That's OK.  I like rain.  It's a perfect summer day.  Sunny and warm in the morning.  Humid and rainy in the afternoon.  When I was in Hawaii for my honeymoon, that was the weather every day.  At about 2 p.m., it would storm for a good hour or two.  And it was lovely.  The world was fresh and green-smelling by evening.

It is Monday, and that means it's time for a Web dip.

My question for this Memorial Day is:

Will I ever experience a Hawaiian rainstorm again?

And E. B. White says:

...No pig ever had truer friends, and he realized that friendship is one of the most satisfying things in the world.  Even the song of the crickets did not make Wilbur too sad.  He knew it was almost time for the County Fair, and he was looking forward to the trip.  If he could distinguish himself at the Fair, and maybe win some prize money, he was sure Zuckerman would let him live.

Well, it looks like Wilbur's going to the County Fair, and Saint Marty will eventually go to Hawaii again.

Mele kalikimaka, dude!

March 14: Gratitude Number Ten

Today, I am grateful for Christmas music.

As I sit here typing this post, I have my Accuradio tuned to a station that plays only holiday music.  Classic holiday music.  Bing Crosby.  Burl Ives singing "Silver and Gold."  The Peanuts gang crooning "Christmas Time is Here."  I'm waiting for Judy Garland and Rosemary Clooney.  Suzy Snowflake and some chestnuts roasting.

Why, you may ask, am I listening to Christmas music in the middle of March?  Because it lifts my spirits for some reason.  Makes me happy.  It's an easy, cheap way to make my day a little lighter.  Since I don't have a prescription for Valium, I depend on "Frosty the Snowman" to take the edge off stressful days.

It's legal, doesn't show up in urine tests, and has a good beat.

Now, if Saint Marty could lay his hands on some eggnog, the day would be perfect.

A good substitute for crystal meth

October 22: White Halloween

I'm sitting in my living room right now, watching the end of the movie White Christmas.  Bing Crosby.  Rosemary Clooney.  Snow.  Irving Berlin.  There's nothing better.

I haven't gone out of my head.  I watch Christmas movies all year long.  I chose this film because it snowed this morning.  A lot.  It's still freezing outside.  The last time I checked, it was still raining white.  It looks like we're headed for another White Halloween in the Upper Peninsula.  That's not unusual.  Last year, we got a full-on storm on All Hallow's Eve.  Several inches.

Since my daughter was born, there has been exactly one Halloween that was warm and beautiful.  The rest have been Bing Crosby holidays.

Saint Marty's pretty sure Bing is going to be caroling in the Great Pumpkin this year.

Hot chocolate anyone?  It goes great with pumpkin carving.