The Christmas Whirlwind

So much has happened in the last few days, that I’ve found it difficult to process.  My mother and friend arrived Sunday night, and since then, it seems as I’ve been caught up in whirlwind of events, activities, and the kind of moments that make for great memories.  As with finishing a great novel, it’s difficult to process all that’s occurred, and summarize its meaning for my life.  So rather than attempt to do that, I’ll share with you a few aspects of what’s occurred in the last few days, and hope that reading them adds a little enjoyment to your holiday season.

While perusing a used bookstore in Florida, I stumbled upon a find that was beyond compare: a hardcover novel from Roger Zelazny called To Die in Italbar.  I started reading it on the plane ride home, had to set it aside for a while, and finally finished it last night.  There was a time in my life that I searched the library, the grocery and department store spinner racks, and the bookstores for any Zelazny title I could find.  While I’ve not read everything he wrote, I usually recognize titles from his early-to-middle years.  This one was new to me.  As I held the faded, time-worn hardcover in my hands, I couldn’t help but feel like an archeologist who has just unearthed artifacts from a previously undiscovered race or culture.  According to the Wikipedia entry on the novel, Roger Zelazny hastily wrote the novel to fulfill a publishing contract, and forever lamented it as his worst novel.  I’ll agree that it’s not perfect, that the narrative could have flowed better, that he could have developed some of his characters and ideas a little more, but still, this is early Zelazny fueled by passion and optimism, transforming a central fantasy element into a rousing Science Fiction adventure novel.  Despite its brevity, the story holds a potency that many novels lack.  Even a day later, I can’t help feeling a little like Moses, after his audience with God.  Can others see the light radiating from my features, after my proximity to the great man through this early novel?  I certainly feel like I’m glowing.

In my family, when it comes to gift giving, our tradition is to overdo it at Christmas.  Sure, this means that we spend more money and time shopping than others do, at least on a per family member basis.  Perhaps it’s silly; I’m willing to admit it’s extreme.  But a part of me is glad that we haven’t succumbed to the mentality of “We’re mature now, we only need to give each other one or two gifts.”  Maybe I’m the only one in my family who loves this tradition: perhaps if I grew up in this manner, everyone else would too.  But there’s a part of me that couldn’t bear to do so, that would die if Christmas only became another day on the calendar in which we gave each person a token present, and then spent the rest of the day eating, partying, or reflecting on the origins and religious significance of the holiday.  Christmas is a link to my past, when life was carefree, when each day seemed magical and full of possibilities.  I’m already way too adult.  I already view things way too seriously.  Allow me one day each year to be a child, please!

Despite all the great times, the days were not all ice cream and Brownie Cherry cobbler, as illness celebrated the holidays with us.  It pressed into my chest, making it difficult to breathe, and sapped my concentration.  Due to the burning in her chest and throat, my wife found it difficult to talk, and her coughing kept her awake at night.  So after my mother and friend left, I took her to Dr. Gross, a physician we had never visited before, who turned out to be nice, despite his unfortunate name.  While we waited for our prescriptions, we enjoyed Vanilla Rooibos Tea Lattes at Starbucks.  As we don’t drink coffee, we tend to visit such places once or twice a year.  A kind barista (who confided that she also doesn’t like coffee) gave me the taste I was looking for with a few extra pumps of Vanilla syrup.  I know it’s more calories, and I’m not burning them off right now as I’m mainly eating, reading, and sleeping, but then, the doctor didn’t give me a prescription.  We’ll call it medicinal Vanilla, shall we?

Roger Zelazny, opening presents, and Vanilla Rooibos Tea Latte (with extra Vanilla syrup).  Those are just the tip of the iceberg, the most memorable and visible from a host of holiday events.  Supporting them were wonderful meals, great times filled with love and laughter, and quiet moments to savor.   The Christmas season may not be over, but for now, I’m content that the whirlwind seems to have died down.  I hope that your Christmas was rich in family, friends, and fun times, and filled with those special moments that you will savor in the years to come. 

Dragon Dave

The Candy Train

Here’s something that proves gifts need neither be expensive or sophisticated.  An older gentleman at our friend’s church hurried over to her as she was getting into her car.  “This is for you,” he told her.  “Have a Merry Christmas.”

This train says something about the giver.  It says that he was thinking of my friend, and he wanted to honor and thank her for the role she plays in his life.  (In other words, he doesn’t take her contributions for granted).  It demonstrates that he’d rather give her something simple and fun than nothing at all.  This gift also says something about the recipient.  It demonstrates, that she doesn’t take life too seriously.  It shows that she’s an open person, and enjoys a good camaraderie with him.  It reminds me that she is a loving and caring person, as he gave her this gift, when he didn’t make or give gifts to everyone at her church.

Some people think that either you must do things first class, or do nothing at all. But this little train reminds me of the importance of thanking those who make meaningful contributions to our lives.  It reinforces that something need not be perfect to be valuable.  And it stands as proof that sometimes, gifts from the heart, that cost no more than a little effort and imagination, can be the best gifts of all.  I wonder if, next year, he'll give her a caboose?

Now, that would be sweet!

Dragon Dave 

A Harrods’ Bell & Jingle Shells

By the time you read this, Santa will (hopefully) have arrived for us.  His helpers have certainly been busy.  We got the tree up, and finished decorating it just as my mother and our friend arrived to spend Christmas with us.  As we decorated the tree, my wife pointed out one ornament in particular, a bell that her parents gave us a few years ago.  They purchased it in Harrods Department store in London.  At the time, I knew little about the famous department store, other than what I had picked up in watching British TV shows.  I had caught a few glimpses of Harrods, such as in “Merry Christmas, Mr. Bean,” when Mr. Bean causes chaos among the staff while doing his holiday shopping, and accidentally extinguishes all the store’s exterior lights while testing a package of lights before he buys them.  When I first watched the episode, I didn’t realize that the store was Harrods, I just thought it was an ordinary department store.  Nor did I have any reason to believe that Harrods was different from any other department store.  In an episode of “Take a Letter, Mr. Jones,” the title character, a secretary played by John Inman, picks up a few items at Harrod’s before he leaves for vacation.  He’d hardly shop there, to pick up a few ordinary items, if it were the most extravagant store in London! 

As Harrods had been referenced so often in British TV shows, we decided to visit it last year, on our final evening in London.  The store is decorated in an Egyptian motif, and while the individual shopping areas are lit well, the common areas, such as the escalators, are cast in darkness.  We also found it difficult to navigate the store; we felt as if we were exploring an ancient labyrinth.  Suddenly, I knew how Indiana Jones might feel, creeping through an Egyptian pyramid, without a map to guide him.  At least we didn’t have to worry about the floor giving way beneath our feet, or spikes hurtling out of the wall to impale us!  Nevertheless, our search for treasure had been rewarded, as the prices of everything seemed higher than we could afford, in many cases, extravagantly so.  I guess the old saying is true, that you can find about anything you might want to buy in Harrods.  Unfortunately, it’s seems equally true that most people may not be able to afford most of the items in the famous store.  At any rate, after awhile, we tired of exploring the busy store, and sought escape.  But how?  We felt so turned around and closed in, and like England’s roads, no signs gave us the directions we craved.  Just like Indiana Jones running down dusty corridors, followed closely by flying knives or giant boulders, our pulses raced as we traveled up and down the escalators, ducking into various departments, in a frantic search to get our bearings, and thus find an exit to the street.

Now I know the bell ornament's true worth.  My in-laws braved the vast, dark labyrinth of Harrods for us, and paid dearly for such a small, seemingly ordinary item.  We shall treasure it all the more.

On this year's trip to Florida, my wife picked up several little shells.  These, she said, were called Jingle Shells.  Apparently, they derive their name from the sound the shells make when strung together as a chime.  More intriguingly, the shells supposedly make this sound when the waves wash over them on the beach.  We never heard the jingle sound during our relaxed wanderings, but the shells were pretty.  So, even though we have several containers of shells from previous trips, we selected a few and brought them back with us.  Perhaps we’ll make a wind chime with them next year.  It may not be as dear as our Harrods Bell, but still, it’d be nice. 

Wherever you are as you read this, I wish you a pleasant day, filled with family, friends, and much happiness.  May your holiday ring with love, laughter, and all the good things in life.  May Santa bring you something as meaningful as a Harrods’ Bell, or something as simple, and yet as pretty, as our musical Jingle Shells. 

Dragon Dave

Related Internet Links

Watch Merry, Christmas, Mr. Bean on Youtube

Wikipedia: Take a Letter, Mr. Jones

Jingle Shells

Preparing for Santa’s Arrival

For today’s post, I had planned to discuss “Adaptations,” by Connie Willis.  This short story, contained in her collection Miracle, seems rich in parallels for our lives.  In it, a divorced father has given up his accounting job to work in a book store.  His main point of contention with the books that fill the shelves is that there are so many versions, or adaptations, of A Christmas Carol, that no one bothers to read the original.  During the course of the story, while he’s trying to prepare for a visit from his daughter on Christmas Eve, his boss arranges an author book signing on that day.  Even with the help of a temporary employee, the cloaked, skeletal Spirit of Christmas Yet to Come, he tries to ignore the realization that he’ll have to work late that day, which will cut in on his time with his daughter. 

Unfortunately, I’m one of the great unwashed who’ve seen lots of adaptations, but have yet to read the Charles Dickens novella.  So while the story offered up a lot of great moments, I’ve won’t attempt to analyze it for you.  Besides, that would take a lot of thought right now, and I’m in the midst of preparing for Santa’s arrival.  So I’ll just add that if you’re interested in reading some stories that draw interesting parallels between Christmas movies, stories, and novels, I heartily recommend Willis’ volume to you.

Last night I also finished a book I’ve been reading for awhile, a Star Wars media tie-in novel called The Mandalorian Armor, by K. W. Jeter.  I’ve not read this author’s work before, but he is revered in Science Fiction and Fantasy circles for having coined the term Steampunk, and along with his friends Tim Powers and James P. Blaylock, wrote some of the first novels published in that literary subgenre.  He populates his narrative with some of the bounty hunters who first appeared in “The Empire Strikes Back.”  Although the central character is Boba Fett, equal page time is given to Bossk, a particularly ugly Trandoshan who, as an infant, devoured all his unhatched siblings.  I’ll agree that the latter assessment isn’t particularly fair, as like beauty, ugliness is a subjective judgment, and his feast in the cradle made his father proud.  I’m sure there are many female Trandoshans who view Bossk as quite a catch, but alas, I digress. 

While I had been looking forward to reading the novel, it took me a while to get into the story, as Jeter keeps moving between two timelines, one taking place after Boba Fett is consumed by the Sarlacc in "Return of the Jedi," and the other taking place sometime between "A New Hope" and "The Empire Strikes Back."   Instead of one cohesive, rollicking adventure, the novel consists of a number of smaller events and battles.  Nor did it help that all the characters are constantly plotting against each other.  While I failed to find any of the characters sympathetic, where Jeter really shines is in all the little touches he introduces, such as Kud’ar Mub’at, an arachnoid-like assembler who delegates most of his business functions to miniature versions of himself.  And then there’s the mimbrane organism that thrives on “acoustic” energy, which makes it perfect to function in lieu of a surveillance device.  He invests these little touches with a real flourish, and such inventiveness is a delight to read. 

Even if it wasn’t what I was expecting, Jeter had me turning the pages rapidly from midway on, and as he ended the first novel on a cliffhanger, he’s got me hungry to read the second installment in the trilogy, Slave Ship.  But later, Jeter, later.  First I’ve got books by Roger Zelazny and E. F. Benson to finish, and, as I said, I’m hard at work preparing for Santa’s arrival.  My wife and I have cleaned up the living room, and the tree and ornaments wait patiently in their separate boxes.  I may not string up any lights this year, but the presents are all wrapped, and once we’ve set up the tree, we’ll have somewhere to place them.  Then we can make up the bed in the guestroom, which at the moment is piled high with, you guessed it, all those presents. 

Don’t hurry on our account, Santa.  We’re looking forward to your arrival, but we’re not quite ready for you.  Soon, I hope, we will be.  I know that chocolate chip cookies are your favorite, but we’ve got some chocolate Rice Krispy squares made up, so I’m sure you’ll enjoy them just as much.  But alas, again, I digress.

Dragon Dave

Related Internet Links

Kud’ar Mub’at

Mimbrane Organism