Lighter fare

Here's a picture of Alyssa holding Melvis. She thought she'd dress him up for the holiday.

Melvis is about a million years old and blind. He really should have a little football helmet on because he runs into objects all over the house. It's bad when our Lab, Milo, is stretched out on the floor and Melvis hits him. Melvis just can't figure out how to get around the furry brown mass that takes up most of the floor. Sometimes Melvis will just give up and lay down next to Milo where it's soft and warm.

I took the girls sledding yesterday afternoon after school. They had a blast at Schultz Park in Douglas.

Thought: It's all downhill from here.

More misc. humbug

The kids wanted to watch the Muppet Christmas Carol last night, so we did. I think I called it tedious in my previous blog. That's complimentary. I about gagged on it.

Over the weekend, we had some family friends over for lunch. It's always a good time. I was bothered, though, by a story John told to my wife.

John said his company was having a party this month and the sign announcing it proclaimed a "holiday party." One of the workers, a Baptist minister, crossed out the word "holiday" and wrote in "Christmas."

That deeply bothers me.

The company was trying to be inclusive, especially because there are many Vietnamese employees who are not necessarily Christian. The minister was trying to be exclusive, saying the party was only for Christians.

Herein lies one of my longstanding problems with Christians and why I chose a different path to spiritual discovery. I've long thought the Christian creed should not be "Love your neighbor," but "It's my way or the highway."

Christians say you have to -- have to -- find your salvation through Jesus. Period. There are some ministers who have said this is not true, that enlightenment can come through many other paths. These ministers who dared show tolerance in this part of the country have been driven out of there pulpits and their churches have been confiscated by their denominations.

I strongly believe in the better part of Christmas -- love, peace, tolerance, charity, humbleness, sincere self-awareness -- but I detest the forced nature of other parts -- mandatory gift giving (what if I tagged you as a Scrooge for not giving gifts during Diwali?) and worship of something that is not mine (what if I made you say, "All glories to Sri Krishna," at the end of your shift at work?).

Bringing it home

An incident at my work really highlights this problem.

The dayside folks had a holiday putluck soup event to raise money for the United Way. A list was tacked up with all our names to assign us things to bring. Nothing like public humiliation to get you to give to a good cause!

More importantly, the event happened at a time that was difficult for me and other night folks to attend (imagine if we held this at 11:30 p.m. Wednesday, the time we night folks might like some soup!).

Now, I must say, a night-shift event was planned, but was cancelled. I'm not sure why. I think because half the newsroom night crew was off the day the event was planned, leaving like four people instead of the dayside 20 to do the event, or that the mailroom crew (those who insert those ads into your paper) works an even more distruptive schedule than the newsroom.

Anyway, a dayside employee wanders over to me and with a holier-than-thou grin on her face and says, "Oh, I see the night crew isn't having a potluck. Must be a problem with participation. He-he-he."

She could have asked if we few folks on the night crew wanted a snack from the party (that's called charity), or she could have volunteered to help us try something else to make us feel part of the larger group (that's called compassion). No, she was just being Christian.

Oh, one last thing. That night of the potluck, another dayside employee called me after midnight, after I'd been working for about 10.5 hours, and asked me to go down to the basement and get her pie plate she brought for the potluck. She didn't want any of the night people to steal it!

Thought: I know some people who need a visit from the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future.

Misc. humbug

Well, not really humbug, but it seemed the thing to say.

Elspeth and I went to see the Saugatuck presentation of "A Christmas Carol" Sunday night. Elspeth's friend, Maggie, was in two roles -- young Scrooge and Martha Cratchit. She did great! She has a strong stage presence and voice.

I've been going to see this play since the early 1990s, and Jayne has acted in it several times, but I was a bit shocked at the price. For just the two of us, I paid $15. A bit much for community theater, I must admit.

I recommend reading the story. There's so much in it that no play or movie can do it justice, and Dickens' word choices and images are powerful.

If you want a good one to watch, rent the 1951 version with Alastair Sim, the picture above. The B&W filming is masterful with its use of shadows. So don't get the colorized version! Sim is also a convincing Scrooge -- not too comedic but also not overbearing, like George C. Scott's version.

Patrick Stewart's version is respectable, too. The Muppet version is tedious and the Mr. MaGoo take is, in the words of Muffy Crosswire from the TV show "Arthur," just "vomitrocious."

Of punctuation

The Saugatuck play was in the Saugatuck Woman's Club. Yes, it's a singular female with an apostrophe.

Several folks in the crowd commented on that oddity Sunday night.

While searching the Web for more info on the show, I came across a Saugatuck tourist site that said the play was a "Dicken's classic."

The author was Charles Dicken?

I had a reporter once who used Dickens as an adjective. Instead of Dickensian, she used Dickensonian. Isn't that a museum in Washington, D.C.?

Thought: Poor Bills, sliding in the snow to an 8-0 loss.

Radda Radda

I've gotten a chuckle or two out of a new children's show on Cartoon Network called "Chowder." The image above is of the cast.

I don't like the show in general, that is, I won't watch it without the kids, like I do "The Backyardigans" (Yeti, Yeti, whooa!), "Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends" (It's hot ... in Topeka) or "Peep and the Big Wide World" (You had beaver help!).

"Chowder" has many of the quirks I despise in modern cartoons. These annoyances include an overemphasis of farting and vomit, and the tendency to make the characters loud and obnoxious.

"Chowder," though, does have a character called Schnitzel, a rock monster who works in the main character's kitchen. He's on the far left of the picture above. I like Schnitzel because he has many of my characteristics (he's easily annoyed and wants annoying people to leave him alone!) and only says one word -- Radda. (Just like me)

Yep. Just radda. Radda, radda.

But the show's writers pack so many nuances into his tone when he says, "Radda," it's hilarious. My favorite was when Schnitzel was trying to cash his paycheck at the bank and ran into so many obstacles that his frustration passed beyond anger to helplessness. I empathisized. I saw myself at the local post office, waiting in a long line as customers asked inane and impossible things of the one person behind the counter. I laughed so hard that my kids thought I had finally snapped.

Also, the voice of Schnitzel is the same guy who does Bender (another of my favorite animated characters, "Bite my shiny metal ass!") on "Futurama."

The other interesting thing about "Chowder" is the animation. The color in the characters is contantly moving. This took some getting used to but is cool to watch.

Thought: Radda, radda! Go Bills!

Changes

We had our first winter-like storm over the weekend. It was more rain and ice than snow and, if you believe our local TV stations, it was the end of the world as we know it.

It wasn't the end of the world, though driving home Saturday night from work was a challenge. I was driving on packed snow and glare ice. The Kia did well, though I snapped off the little squirt nozzle for the wiper fluid whiles I was chipping the ice off the car.

Above is a picture of the girls getting ready to head to school. They always make a point of saying goodbye to the dogs.

And now for something completely different:

-- Thanks to Geodude that crazy geologist for his comments on the "Beatles 1" blog. I just have to accept that there is no single collection of Beatles songs you can own that covers it all.

Funny, though: I have a John Lennon collection called "Working Class Hero" that does a good job of getting the essential Lennon -- you could own that and no other Lennon LP and be able to carry on intelligent party conversations (Really. No one listens to "Two Virgins" or "Life with the Lions."). The Ringo collection is really his best. Harrison's collection is passable (though you should own "All Things Must Pass"). The most recent McCartney greatest hits CD does a respectable job (But buy "Band on the Run," it's great). So, the sum is greater than the collection of individual units.

-- The paper I work for is now owned by some other conglomerate. It was a Morris Communication Corp. product. As of Saturday, The Holland Sentinel is owned by GateHouse Media Inc. What's next remains to be seen. I'd like to see a pay increase because I haven't had one in 22 months.

-- Starting to get estimates in on some roof repair. Three grand so far.

Thought: Go Bills! A win's a win, no matter how ugly.