The Real Crimson Tide

I suppose I should state up front, that normally I bleed blue.

My college football team is the BYU Cougars. The University of Utah Utes are the enemy -- okay, the opposition anyway. The nemesis. The team you root against in all cases. The problem is, I was born with this genetic flaw that causes me to acknowledge reality and fairness. Earlier this football season -- after the Utes destroyed the Cougars -- I admitted here that Utah was the superior team (this year, let's not lose our minds here). But when they were selected to play in the Sugar Bowl, against Alabama -- a team ranked number one longer than any other team this year -- I didn't give Utah a snowball's chance in New Orleans. Frankly, many of the comments I heard from Utah fans were along the lines of "I hope they just play well." The Utes came through the season unbeaten, but not unscathed -- Utah didn't beat TCU, TCU beat themselves. But they say great teams take advantage of the circumstances they are given, and Utah is now 13 - 0. The ONLY unbeaten team left in college football. 

Today I'm a Ute fan. I'll bleed red until next September.

In 2004, the University of Utah was the first of the non-BCS automatic qualifiers to crash the party. They finished the season ranked 6th and were rewarded with a trip to the Fiesta Bowl, to play 23rd ranked Pittsburgh. It was a joke, and I believe a slap in the face -- a chance to prove what the elite schools believe, that even the top team in the Mountain West Conference is no match for a mid level team from the ACC.

Utah 35

Pitt 7

Since that time non BCS schools have won twice as many of the big bowls as they have lost. This year Utah finished 12-0 in the regular season, and were ranked 6th. They are the first team to crash the party twice. This time, I think the BCS gods on Mount Olympus decided to put an end to all this foolishness, and put the upstart Utes up against a team that they had no chance of beating -- The vaunted Alabama Crimson Tide, a team just one win from the national championship. Alabama would demolish the Utes, and all of college football would know their rightful place again. 

Utah 31

Alabama 17

I believe in the law of unintended consequences. Sometimes we say things that we wish we could take back, but the thing about words is --once they're out there, they're very hard to reel back in. Alabama coach Nick Saban, before the game, and in trying to put the best spin on Alabama's only loss, at that point, to Florida, stated that the Crimson Tide were the only team to go 12-0 in a real BCS conference. I don't think he was necessarily trying to slap Utah in the face, but Utah plays best with a chip on their shoulder. The Utes didn't beat Alabama, they dominated them. The rolled the Tide. I had my questions about this Utah team for most of the year. No more. Bring on anyone. Bring on Florida, anywhere, anytime.

And speaking of Florida, can we stop talking about Urban Meyer now? Meyer coached the Utes for two seasons, and got them to that Fiesta Bowl in 2004, but it was never about the Utes -- it was the Urban Meyer show. No one is denying that he is a great coach, but he used Utah as a springboard for his own career. He didn't even stick around long enough to coach them in the Fiesta Bowl. This year they did it without him. In fact, Utah beat Alabama by more points than Florida (the only other team to beat the Tide this year) did. And Kyle Whittingham is still at Utah. 
Florida and Oklahoma will play for the BCS title. Fine. Let them have the BCS title -- that's appropriate, it's the BCS' party. But The University of Utah is the 2008 National Champion.
If you believe in fairness. If you believe in honor. If you believe in sportsmanship. If you believe in honesty. If you believe in rewarding effort and heart. Heck, if you believe in America, that is the only answer to the question of who should be crowned as the National Champion.

Utah's win was good for the Mountain West Conference. It was good for all of non-BCS football. It was good for all of college football. It was good for BYU, for that matter. If nothing else it helps to solidify the idea that the Mountain West Conference deserves an automatic bid to the big bowls. But, personally I hope that never happens. I hope teams like Utah continue to crash the elite parties, and embarrass and expose the Bowl Championship Series for the fraud that it is.

CONGRATULATIONS UTAH 

2008 NATIONAL CHAMPIONS

Photostory Friday: Sharing

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

My resolution for this year is to share more, and in that spirit, I'm about to share with you my fantastic recipe for homemade pancakes -- from scratch!

At our house, I am the breakfast guy, and I make three things -- Pancakes, Waffles and French Toast. 

And bacon. 

I've been working out this pancake recipe for years. You see, the most important thing about pancakes, the thing you must never forget, the thing that will make your pancake cooking a success is consistency -- by which I mean, the consistency of the batter. It makes all the difference -- therefore you must be precise in your preparations. 

This is a basic recipe, to which you can add anything you want (blueberries, raspberries, bacon,  --  dirt from the floor if you want to), but you must follow these directions first. 

Get your mixing bowl -- one with a pouring spout, preferably. 

Get your electric griddle (this is not absolutely essential, but it is your best bet for even cooking) -- turn it to at least 400 degrees. 

Crack two large eggs into the bowl. 

Add exactly 1 3/4 cups of 2% milk. 

Add exactly 1/4 cup of vegetable oil. 

Using a good metal whisk, stir until it becomes nice and frothy.

Here is the MOST important part:

Add 1 3/4 cups of flour 

BUT

You have to do it my way, which is: Take a 1/4 cup measuring cup, and pack it full of flour -- seven times. 

I KNOW, you're not supposed to pack flour -- we're living on the edge people!

Add 4 teaspoons of baking powder.

BUT

Once again -- my way: (one tablespoon equals three teaspoons -- roughly). Put in a tablespoon of baking powder, followed by a teaspoon of baking powder. Trust me. 

Add two tablespoons of sugar -- but it HAS to be sugar grown on the south side of the farthest Hawaiian island to the west, and harvested in the month of September. On an even numbered day. 

Just kidding -- any sugar will do. 

Add one half teaspoon of salt. But it has to be...that's only funny once. 

Now Mix like the wind!

Mix (with your good metal whisk) until all of the BIG lumps are gone. The little lumps will cook out. 

You batter is now perfect. Take a picture of it.

Then let the pouring begin. Pour carefully, using a rubber scraper to help guide the batter into perfect round pancakes -- about 3.5 inches in diameter (any bigger and you risk spraining your wrist).

Let the pancakes cook until edges are beginning to dry and the bubbles on top begin to pop. Turn them over -- crust should be golden brown. Cook for about another minute.

Remove from griddle. 

Eat. 

Enjoy. 

Makes about 15 pancakes. 

Happy New Year!! 

And don't say I never gave you anything.

The Best of 2008

Okay, let me clarify at the beginning that this is my own personal list. Included here are things I did, saw, read, watched, heard etc...Not everything here may have originated in 2008, but this was the first time I became aware of it. 

Best Movie (I saw in a movie theater):

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.

Also the only movie I saw in a theater this year. I saw it twice. Back to back showings. Not because the movie was so fantastic, but because I was so confused. It made a lot more sense the second time. You see, I'm the world's biggest Indiana Jones fan, and I have been waiting for this movie for many (MANY) years. I knew all about it. I knew it would be different, and I was prepared for anything -- so I thought. The film was such a departure from the other movies, that it left me dazed. I must have still had a very confused look on my face when we got home, because my wife sent me back to see the last show of the night, to clear things up. Having now watched it several times on DVD as well I have made my peace with this movie (and I'm even holding out hope for number 5). It's actually a pretty fun movie. It used to be said that The Temple of Doom was the odd man out, in the Indiana Jones saga, but my considered opinion now is that it's Raiders of the Lost Ark.

The Best Movie I Saw. Period.

Batman: The Dark Knight.

I just got this movie as a Christmas present, and watched it for the first time Christmas night. 

WOW! Everything I've heard about the film was correct. This is not your father's Batman. I loved the first movie (Batman Begins). I love the psychology of the story -- why would a man dress up as a bat, and go out to fight crime? This film picks right up where the last one left off. It's gritty, and dark (ALMOST too dark), and Heath Ledger's performance is a tour de force. I haven't seen such a disturbing villain since Silence of the Lambs. I hope, in the next installments they don't try to bring someone else in as the joker. 

The Best Television:

Michael Phelps wins eight gold medals at the Beijing Olympic Games. For the first week of the games, we were glued to the set every night, for every swim. There was a hero, there was drama, there was heart, there were tears, there was comedy, there was inspiration -- everything you want from a good television show. Just like Extreme Makeover, Home Edition, only no one's house got torn down. In fact, I was so inspired that I wrote a letter to our local newspaper, which was subsequently chosen as the letter of the month,  which caused the paper to write a little article about me, which was noticed by the wife of my boss, who cut out the article and posted it by the time clock, which subsequently caused many of my co-workers to believe that I had died. 

Best Song I Heard:

Little Wonders, by Rob Thomas

This song was around before 2008, but I didn't hear it until last January, on the blog of Pam, my sister-in-law. It's a song from the soundtrack to the movie "Meet the Robinsons." It's about living in the moment, and appreciating all of the wonderful little blessings in our lives that really make up our lives. I came across this song at a point where it felt like the world was coming down, around my ears. It gave me perspective, and it gave me hope. I love this song.

Best News:

Well, I suppose that some would consider the election of Barak Obama as the best news of the year. But I didn't vote for him -- though I do wish him well. So for me, the best news of the year were the gas prices  -- at the end of the year. See, I drive a Ford Bronco, which gets about twelve miles to the gallon, and I drive about 250 miles a week, just for work, so in the summer, when gas hit almost four dollars a gallon (at the same time I went from an 800 dollar  rent payment to a 1500 dollar mortgage payment) I was in over my head, and going down for the third time. Today, we're paying 1.35 per gallon here -- I know it won't last, but I can be grateful while it does (little wonders). 

Best Show:

Les Miserables at Tuacahn.

My wife and I usually go to several plays and concerts throughout the year. In September, for our 14th anniversary, we decided to see the production of Les Miserables, at the Tuacahn Theater, in St. George, Utah. We had both seen the traditional "broadway"version of the show several years earlier. But Tuacahn is different than other venues. Tuachan is an outdoor amphitheater built right into the red desert rock of southern Utah -- and is billed as Broadway in the Desert. All productions there utilize the terrain in the telling of their story. It was our first trip to Tuacahn, and it was fantastic! There were bats flying around the night sky -- right through the scenes. Very cool. If you ever get the chance to see anything at Tuacahn, go!

Best Book:

I read a lot of books throughout the year, and I read a lot of books that I have already read (The Work and the Glory series, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, A Christmas Carol, Charles Kuralt's America, Tom Sawyer, etc...). The best book I read this year was one that I had read a 

couple of times before, but not for several years: Walt Disney, An American Original.

This is an amazing biography, of an amazing man. I read it again as we were preparing to go to Disneyland last spring, because there is a lot of the early history of Disneyland contained in the narrative. The book ends with Walt's death, and by that point you realize how much he accomplished, and how much he was still planning, right up until the end (he had planned to create the ideal community -- a plan which ultimately became the EPCOT center at Walt Disney World). I HIGHLY recommend this book to any Disney fan.

Greatest Blessing:

Getting into our own home. Finally, after 14 years of marriage, I was able to place my wife under a roof of her own. When she agreed to marry me, I promised her so much more than I have been able to deliver. Many people have suffered much hardship this year, and for us things have been tight, but really we have had a remarkable year. I would be ungrateful not to acknowledge the wonderful blessings that we have received in 2008.

Best Trip:

We went several places this year, but nothing touches the trip to Disneyland with my mom and brother last Spring. My mom, who finally sold the house that she had paid on for thirty years, decided that once in her life, she wanted to treat her kids and grandkids to a special trip. We spent five days in southern California. We went to Universal Studios, and Sea World, but the highlight was, undoubtedly, the three days we spent at the Happiest Place on Earth. Sharon and I hadn't been there in twelve years (when California Adventure was a parking lot), and our kids had never been there. It was even better than I remembered it -- why does Disneyland feel like home? Highlight -- Matthew, my son, getting to face off against Darth Maul, at the Jedi Training Academy. I don't know who was more psyched, him or me. It was a trip that all of us will remember all of our lives. 

Best Picture I Took:

This was hard. Each picture I take is personal, so I guess I shouldn't say the best, but instead, my favorite: You know it had to be a picture of my kids (at least some of them). I won't bore you (any more than I have to) with the whole story of how this came to be hanging on my wall -- but if you really want to know, go here. 

And finally. My Best Blog Post of the Year. 

Photostory Friday, created and hosted by Cecily and Mamageek, has been a wonderful outlet for me both to show some pictures and to write about them. And through Photostory I have met so many wonderful new friends. I don't know if this little piece about my girls is the nest thing I did all year -- but it certainly got the most response. Thank you. 

Looking ahead:

I, and my family were greatly blessed in so many ways this year. I'm so grateful to the new friends I have met through the blogging community. I very much appreciate the wonderfully nice things you have had to say to me, and I hope that I have been as good a friend to you all, as you have been to me. Thank You. 

I hope that 2009 finds all of our lives even more richly blessed. 

I pray for peace, and I pray for happiness.

I pray for strength and humility. 

For each of us. 

Happy New Year!

Encore! Encore! Part Deux...

When Good Metaphors Go Bad

Ok, let's talk about lyrics. 

I am a fan of words. Pound for pound, words are the most powerful thing in the universe -- that's called hyperbole, kids.  Words are at their most potent when teamed with other words. We call that a sentence. There are many famous sentences out there. 

We hold these truths to be self evident...

Let there be light. 

Life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury...signifying nothing (meow). 

Sometimes we really want to describe something profound -- to give it more depth and meaning. In such a case, we often turn to metaphor. That's one of those words that you vaguely recall from high school English. A metaphor is when you describe something by, essentially, describing something else.  This is a device often used in poetry and song writing. A metaphor is useful for portraying ideas, by wrapping them in a physical object. 

One of my favorite song metaphors is from the Peter Gabriel song "Biko." Without getting too extensive, the song is about Steven Biko, an African man killed by the white authorities of South Africa, in 1977. It happened during the dreadful apartheid era. The death of Steven Biko helped to bring on a revolution in thought and action. 

The line from the song is "You can blow out a candle, but you can't blow out a fire. Once the flame begins to catch, the wind will blow higher." 

That line is so full of meaning. and it needs no explanation -- unless you have no understanding of the way fire works. 

And then there is my favorite stupid metaphor (in a song). No, it's not "Pour some sugar on me in the name of love," though that does get an honorable mention. No, the award goes to...

Jon Bon Jovi, for the song "Bed of Roses." Let me preface my comments by saying, musically, this is a pretty cool sounding song. You have to hand it to Jon Bon Jovi, the man sings PASSIONATELY. One might even say it's melodramatic. I desperately want to like this song. The problem is, I can't help myself. I listen to the words. 

Most of the words to this song are easy to understand. He longs to be with the woman that he loves, but he's stuck being who he is -- a fabulously famous, and filthy rich rock singer, adored by millions, with apparently no control over his life. Hey, we've all been there. So, he's writing this love letter at the piano. He's hung over (a bottle of vodka lodged in his head -- I hope that's a metaphor), and there's a scary blonde in his bed. Apparently this is not the woman he is writing the song for.  Again, we understand him. We too have scary blondes in our bed. 

But then he lays this line on us..."With an iron clad fist, I wake up and french kiss the morning." 

(Sound of needle scratching across record. Sound of train derailing, Sound of stunned silence -- my apologies to Simon and Garfunkel). 

Excuse me? You did what? And how?!?

Actually, to give Bon Jovi credit, he sings this line with such conviction, that at first we buy it. Yes! I too have awoken in the pre-dawn hours, my forearm completely encased in metal, and bestowed a lusty smooch upon the...at this point the mental image kicks in...and I begin to scratch my head (with the non-metallic hand). I understand what he is saying. He's hung over. But I get that from the context of the line, not from the line itself. I cannot find meaning for the iron clad fist, and I cannot get the image of him making out, passionately I suppose, with the ethereal morning, out of my head. 

So, there you have it. The dumbest, intentionally serious, metaphor I have ever heard. 

Oh, there is one other dumb line in the song -- "I want to be just as close as, the Holy Ghost is." This is not hard to understand, it's just hard to believe that after the scary blonde, the bottle of vodka lodged in his head, and whatever it was he did to the morning, that he would be anywhere near where the Holy Ghost was. 

Encore! Encore!

For the next two days, I'm going to repost some old entries from several months ago (aka back when no one was reading my blog).

Then, to close out the year, on Wednesday I'll give you my list of "Bests" for 2008. 

You're on the edge of your seat aren't you?

SOMEWHERE, WALT IS SMILING...

A rant and a rave...

This is going to be a bit awkward -- I'm about to gush.

About a Disney movie.

A Disney Princess movie.

The movie is Enchanted, and I'm...well...enchanted. Let me start by saying that I am a big fan of Walt Disney -- the man. He is one of my heroes. Walt Disney was a man with a dream, and he made it come true, then he proceeded to try and make other people's dreams come true, as well. He was a man concerned about the details. It was the quality of the product that set Disney -- the man, and his company -- apart from the crowd. And that reputation meant everything to Walt Disney. So, when I see what has happened to Walt Disney -- the conglomerate -- I think Walt must be rolling over in his grave. 

Until late in his life, Walt Disney was not comfortably wealthy, despite the success of so many of his ventures. Why? Because he nearly bankrupted his company several times, in pursuit of excellence. Maybe that's not the best business sense, but he did it for you and me -- those who would buy his product. Ultimately, he set the standard for excellence. 

So, what happened? 

Disney has always come in waves of success. The last wave started in 1990, with The Little Mermaid, and crested in 1994 with The Lion King. There were a few decent movies after that, but the decline was obvious. 

Now, let me digress for a moment to say that I only consider Pixar movies to be a Disney product in the broadest sense -- they were, in the beginning, a separate company. Nearly everything Pixar has done has been a home run. It's okay that Disney doesn't knock them out of the park every time, but in the pursuit of nothing more than cheap money, the company -- under Michael Eisner -- finally broke Walt's cardinal rule -- NO SEQUELS!

Walt's first major success was The Three Pigs. It was a runaway hit. The world clamored for more pigs, and at first Walt acquiesced. He made several different versions of the story, but realized quickly that none of them were bringing in the kind of attention that the first movie did. From then on, his motto was "You can't top pigs with pigs." And he never made another sequel. 

Instead, he moved on to bigger and better things -- Snow White, Cinderella, Pinocchio. So, when the company bearing his name began to produce sequels -- it began with The Rescuers Down Under, and descended rapidly into straight to video garbage like Cinderella 2, Peter Pan 2, etc...I wanted to gag. Nearly every Disney classic -- with the exception, as far as I can tell, of Snow White, Pinocchio and Sleeping Beauty -- now has at least one sequel, made for just one reason -- to get gullible people to shell out good money for a cheap product, that masquerades as a Walt Disney movie. 

So, on to my real reason for writing here: Enchanted is the best thing Disney has produced in a VERY LOOOOONG time. I was so affected by this movie, that it's a little startling to me. It's the story of Giselle, a cartoon Disney Princess, in the tradition of Ariel, from The Little Mermaid, Belle, from Beauty and the Beast, as well as classic Disney heroines like Snow White, Cinderella, and Aurora. She spends her days singing to her furry woodland friends, and waiting to be swept off her feet by the obligatory Prince, at which point they will be married and share true love's first kiss, and live happily ever after. 

Giselle runs afoul of the wicked stepmother -- of course -- and before she can live happily ever after, finds herself banished to reality -- modern day New York City, no longer a cartoon princess, but a flesh and blood human being. I don't want to give the movie away, but suffice it to say through the course of the story, Giselle experiences the ups and downs of life, and love, as a human being. There are constant references and homages -- both subtle and obvious -- to many of the preceding Disney films, as well as other cinematic treasures like The Sound of Music. In fact, each time you watch it, you'll see more. 

And that was the danger that Enchanted faced. This movie could have been SOO bad! It could have descended into wink and nod parody. It could have been a joke, something along the lines of the drek that passes for entertainment on the Disney Channel (I'm sorry, but even the vaunted High School Musical wouldn't have cut it as a theatrical release). But, Enchanted works, and here's the reason why: Amy Adams. 

The rest of the cast -- Patrick Dempsey as Robert, the love interest, James Marsden as Prince Edward/comic relief, and Susan Sarandon as Narissa, the evil queen -- are superb. But Amy Adams, as Giselle, sparkles! From beginning to end you believe that Giselle is a cartoon princess, brought to life. More than portraying a cartoon princess in the flesh -- you can see that at Disney on Ice -- Amy Adams' task is to give life to a character who begins as two-dimensional in every way -- not just the way she is drawn, but in her understanding of life and love -- and show the transformation to a fully three-dimensional person.  She does it, and does it with a refreshing, wide eyed, innocence. She really is the embodiment of the character.

 

I'm a romantic at heart. I'm not afraid of happily ever after, but my reaction to this movie has been a little shocking, even to myself. Here's what happened: There's a feeling that we get only a couple of times in our lives. It's that wonderful feeling that starts somewhere near the heart, and spreads out to your whole being. It's the way we feel when we begin to fall in love with someone. I got that feeling when I watched this movie -- not through the whole thing, but at one particular point. 

There is a scene, near the end, where all of the characters are at a ball, and Giselle and Robert are dancing (it's a beautiful homage to the waltzing scene in Beauty and the Beast), and they look into each other's eyes, and realize, for the first time, that this is really where they belong. They are falling in love. And I bought it. 

I got that feeling. 

I was feeling what the characters were supposed to be feeling. That does not happen to me -- not to that degree - when I watch movies. It was so starling to me, that I said out loud (to an empty room) "What is happening to me?" 

That moment is the highlight of the movie to me -- it makes the story (this story about a cartoon princess) personal to me. The only thing that could ruin the experience for me would be if they made a sequel. I loved the characters. I love watching the movie.

This movie. This story. I don't need to know what else happens to them.

Happily ever after is a good ending. 

Photostory Friday: The kind of dad I am

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

I don't know if this post says more about the kind of father I am, or the kind of son Matt is. 

Me: "Matt, go stick your tongue to a metal pole, so I can take a picture of it."

Matt: "Okay."

Actually, I dedicate this Photostory Friday to our favorite expatriate in England, J the Grockle, who, after I posted the Leg Lamp Story, practically TRIPLE DOG DARED me to take this picture. 

By the way, his tongue didn't actually stick. 

I tried it first -- I'm not THAT kind of dad. 

I hope everyone is having a Merry Christmas!!

I gotta get back to Guitar Hero!

One boy's Christmas

The neighborhood was blanketed in snow, a winter wonderland. The snowman in the yard was wearing my mittens and my nine foot long scarf. He was a foot taller than me. The record player in our house played endless renditions of Frosty the Snowman, as well as selections by the Ray Conniff Singers. Our neighborhood was a new development, so the tallest trees on the block were in the front rooms of the houses.

 

Our Christmas tree that year was twelve feet tall -- though, in my mind's eye it looks more like thirty. Actually, we had twelve foot tall trees every year -- we weren't rich, we just had high ceilings (only once did we break with tradition and buy a beautiful eight foot tree; it turned out it was so pretty because it had been spray painted). It was 1977, and I was five years old, and the world was a big, wonderful, magical place.

 My world at that time did not extend much beyond my own driveway, though I had spent most of the previous summer in a galaxy far, far away. But now Christmas had come, and my mind was filled with images of flying reindeer and talking snowmen, and a jolly fat elf, with an amazingly accommodating sack of toys. I knew the rules -- no crying, no pouting. I knew that Santa Claus would only come when I was asleep. 

Asleep?!?

How could any sane person expect a five year old boy to sleep, on the eve of the greatest day the world had ever known? I was finally old enough to appreciate the significance of what was about to happen at my house. 

I never doubted. But I did wonder. 

How did Santa Claus get to all of those homes in one night? And how would he get all of those big toys down our very small chimney? What made reindeer fly and snowmen sing? There was really only one answer: magic. And that was good enough for me. I was a true believer. 

On Christmas Eve, after reading the Christmas Story, and A Visit from St. Nicholas, and after making sure that the stockings were hung (by the chimney with care, naturally), I lay in my room (the one with the green shag carpeting -- which I loved -- remember, it was 1977) and looked out my window. I remember, vividly, how bright the stars and the snow were, and how they lit up the winter night. My heart pounded in my ears, and I felt kind of twitchy. I strained to listen for sleigh bells, or at least some prancing and pawing of little hooves on the roof. I wondered if Santa really knew whether or not I was asleep. What if I just closed my eyes for a second...

My next clear memory is coming down the stairs in to the living room, lit brightly with sunlight, and filled with gifts -- which, to my five year old eyes, seemed to cover every square inch of the room. There was a toy piano, and a Snoopy Stunt Motorcycle set. 

There were Star Wars toys; the foundation of a massive, and ultimately doomed collection (anyone else golf the heads off of Luke, Han and the rest?). 

And, in the middle of everything, there was a horse -- a Wonder Horse. It was a magnificent, chestnut colored steed, with a flowing white mane and tail, ready to ride as far as his springs and my imagination would take us (as long as I kept the gas tank full, which I imagined was on the rear end of my horse. I was a suburban kid). 

Other Christmases of my life tend to blur into one another, but the memory of that Christmas morning is burned into my memory forever. I could not believe my eyes! He had come! Sometime during the night, while I slept, Santa Claus had come down our chimney, and dumped a sleighfull of toys on to our living room floor. What other explanation was there? The house was bare, and suddenly it overflowed with Yuletide abundance. It was magic, it had to be!

The next year, when I was six, the magic went away. An older relative explained the "truth" to me. It's funny how monumental days like that stick out in your memory -- it was the same day that I learned to blow bubbles with bubble gum. But some dreams die hard, and I was a reluctant realist. As I grew older, and supposedly wiser to the ways of the world, it was not easy to let go. Then along came a miracle. 

Three actually. 

Wonder in the eyes of a child seems like an old cliche -- until you have kids, that is. Everything is new to them, everything is wonderful. Children greet the world with wide eyed amazement. So, when it came time to introduce my kids to the joys of Christmas, I was pleased to find that, even in today's increasingly cynical world, kids are still kids. They know that reindeer can fly. They know that the North Pole can not only sustain life, but an entire colony of elves, busily engaged in making toys for all the good children of the world. They do not doubt. Doubts come later, when they are older, and "wiser." I found what I had lost all those Christmases ago -- joy in simple faith. 

I know many things now that I didn't know as a five year old boy. I know that Christmas is about more than Santa Claus and snowmen. I know that a greater happiness comes from giving than receiving. Christmas is much more satisfying as a parent than it ever was as a child. And I know that the most important event that we celebrate at Christmas is the birth of a child, who would be reborn thirty three years later -- the greatest gift of all.

 

I know that a story about one five year old boy's Christmas in 1977, is not very important, but it is a beautifully sweet memory for me. Life was simple, and faith was easy. 

I wish every child at least one Christmas just like it. 

Merry Christmas.