November 18: Holiday Weather, Crafty Christmas, Hope and Light

Nevertheless, ere long, the warm, warbling persuasiveness of the pleasant, holiday weather we came to, seemed gradually to charm him from his mood. For, as when the red-cheeked, dancing girls, April and May, trip home to the wintry, misanthropic woods; even the barest, ruggedest, most thunder-cloven old oak will at least send forth some few green sprouts, to welcome such gladhearted visitants; so Ahab did, in the end, a little respond to the playful allurings of that girlish air. More than once did he put forth the faint blossom of a look, which, in any other man, would have soon flowered out in a smile.

Even Ahab is not immune to the holiday season.  As serious as a hurricane, the captain of the Pequod is able to enjoy the "playful allurings of the girlish air."  Even the hardest of hearts can melt a little bit at this time of the year.

I have spent most of this weekend preparing my house for Christmas.  Yesterday, I cleaned my house with my daughter.  Then we dragged the plastic totes down from the attic, and last night we put A Christmas Story on the DVD player and set up the Christmas tree.  It's an artificial tree that my wife and I bought after our first Christmas as a married couple.  It was deeply discounted, and it has served us well ever since.  Twenty-three years.  That has to be some kind of record.

This afternoon, we went to work on our front porch.  It was my year to choose the theme for our outside decorations.  I have close to twenty years' worth of framed poetry broadsides that I've been giving to friends and family.  I decided to put them to good use this year, as well.  So, it's "Crafty Christmas" outside.  My daughter folded a bunch of origami animals for her English class last year.  We used her creations as ornaments for the tree.  I found some latch hook Christmas rugs that my sister Rosemarie made many years ago.  I hung those up, too.  Add a few of my framed poems, and I have a home-made Christmas that would make Martha Stewart proud.

Now, I'm sitting in my living room.  No lights in the house on, except for the Christmas tree.  Miracle on 34th Street is playing on the television, and I'm pretty darn tired.  But I'm full of holiday spirit.  Now, those of you who know me personally will not be surprised by any of my confessions here.  My coworkers hear me playing Christmas music on my computer all year long.  I listen to 'Tis the Podcast weekly.  (That's a podcast by three people who talk about Christmas movies and television specials and music all year long.  It's my new obsession.)  I love all things Christmas.

I know there are people reading this post who probably won't put up their trees and decorations until after Thanksgiving.  There are probably a few of you who even wait until Christmas week to glitter and light up your houses.  I also know that Christmas is not always the happiest time of the year for everyone.  I am sensitive to everyone's feelings about the holiday season.  I, myself, have had some pretty dark Yuletides.

This year, however, I'm determined to make the season bright, as the carol goes.  Sure. I have worries at work.  Still don't know if I'm going to have a job come January 1st.  Yeah, money is still really tight.  Always robbing Peter to pay Paul, as my mother says.  But, it doesn't cost any money to be cheerful or friendly.  To play a game of Trivial Pursuit with my daughter.  Watch The Year Without a Santa Claus with my son.  Bake some cookies.  Sing some songs.  Spread some goodwill around.  Because the world seems in short supply of all of that right now.

This isn't just about Christmas.  It's about hope and light.  Ever since President He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named took office, there hasn't been a whole lot of these things available.  Saint Marty intends to be an agent of hope and light this holiday season.

May 26: Comfort, Other Ministers, Powerless, New Cartoon

"Jacob," he said, imploringly.  "Old Jacob Marley, tell me more.  Speak comfort to me, Jacob."

"I have none to give," The Ghost replied.  "It comes from other regions, Ebenezer Scrooge, and is conveyed  by other ministers, to other kinds of men.  Nor can I tell you what I would.  A very little more, is all permitted to me.  I cannot rest.  I cannot stay.  I cannot linger anywhere.  My spirit never walked beyond our counting-house--mark me!--in life my spirit never roved beyond the narrow limits of our money-changing hole; and weary journeys lie before me!"

Not a very comforting passage this morning from Charles Dickens.  It appears near the beginning of the novel and doesn't paint a very flattering picture of the afterlife.  Or at least Jacob Marley's afterlife.  And it also doesn't provide much solace to Scrooge, who seems to be one step shy of being condemned to the ninth circle of the Inferno.

I have to say, the last couple of days have been a little difficult for me, ever since I received the news about the repair needed on my wife's Subaru.  Out of all the things in life that can cause me worry, finances top the list.  I hate having, as the old saying goes, to rob Peter to pay Paul.  I think there's a reason why finances are the number one cause of divorce in the United States.  The worry is insidious.  I haven't slept well since Wednesday.  Scrooge (and Marley, when he was alive) is in the business of creating financial stress.  He makes people lose sleep.  He provides no comfort, even though he has the financial means.

This morning, as I was taking my shower, I was really thinking a lot about money and worry.  I came to two realizations.  First, I can't do anything about having too little money.  I already have two, basically, full-time jobs, plus a couple part-timers.  My wife has been applying for jobs all over the place.  She just had another job interview yesterday.  Unless Scrooge's nephew, Fred, offers one of us a better position, we are in an economic holding pattern.  Second, worry is a waste of time.  It helps nothing and just consumes huge chunks of energy.  I need to take a cue from Bob Cratchit on this issue.  Bob seems to worry very little and has faith that everything is going to work out for the best.

Therefore, today I'm going to try to practice a little less worry and a little more faith.  A little less Scrooge, a little more Bob.  There are "other ministers" to provide comfort, as Marley says, and I'm going to have to trust in those ministers.

Embrace your limitations, Saint Marty.  You are powerless.  Until you win the Pulitzer and/or Nobel Prize.

Confessions of Saint Marty