If Mary and Joseph Lived in Short Pump...

Yesterday, Pam made another delicious batch of Gingerbread Whoopie Pies with orange zest cream cheese filling, while I attempted to wrap the presents we had bought for our four kids. A couple of thoughts...

First, those whoopie pies? Yes, they are as delicious as they sound. Just the smell of them wafting around the house makes me gain weight. Secondly....

#spoiledrotten

The truly bad thing about this is the fact that I didn’t even finish the job. There are even more presents that I couldn’t wrap because of some missing piece. It’s ridiculous really...but neither of us can help ourselves. And we don’t even have grandchildren!!

So, when Pam finally finished baking the whoopie pies, she announced that we were going to head out for a Christmas cheer-spreading drive to deliver this first batch to four different couples that we know and love. An hour and a half later it was done. It was great fun. Pro-Tip...if you want to get into the Christmas Spirit, there is no better way than hand delivering fresh out of the oven whoopie pies to the unsuspecting.

And now for a couple Christmas themed cartoons that I love...

....if Mary and Joseph lived in Short Pump.

Marco Polo-ing With Mom

My Mother was a selectively impatient person. In some things, like waiting for her youngest son to repent of his many sins, her patience had virtually no limits. But in other, less eternal pursuits, her exasperation point was on a hair trigger. Here is just a short list of the topics about which she had zero patience:

* bad preaching

* Baptist churches that didn’t devote at least half of their budget to Lottie Moon

* TV preachers

* religious music that had a beat

* teenagers who slept past 7:00 am on Saturdays

* cell phones

* computers

* the internet

The last three items on this list arrived on the scene when my Mother was an older woman, and far beyond the age where she might have suffered fools with a more generous spirit. Whenever Mom would use a cell phone or sit at a computer, she could often be heard muttering, what for her, was a string of epithets...

“This John Brown, devilish thing...I declare honestly, Ima go down to that Verizon store and mop up the floor with that salesman..PHOOEY!!!”

So, as we prepare to institute the very first Marco Polo Christmas music concert in Dunnevant Family history, I can’t help trying to imagine what it would be like trying to teach Mom how to use the app....

Pam: Hey, Nanny! I have some great news. Even though we cant be together for Christmas this year because of C, there’s a way we can all be together remotely. It’s called Marco Polo, and I’m going to teach you how to use it and don’t worry, its super easy.

Mom: If you think some John Brown interweb scheme is going to replace having all of you in my house, then you’ve got another think coming!

Doug: Now Mom, we’ve already discussed this. There’s no way we can do that this year. You and dad are part of the high risk population and we don’t want...

Mom: I serve the Lord of heaven who owns the cattle on a thousand hills and...

Pam: Yes, yes Nanny. We know all about the cattle. But this is different. We just can’t cram 25 people into your tiny little house in the middle of a pandemic.

Mom: So instead, we’re gonna get on the interwebs—which as all of you know is nothing less than the Anti-Christ—and play Marco Polo?!

Doug: No, Mom. Marco Polo is this cool new app that allows people to send texts to each other in video form instead of having to type out messages. We know how much you hate sending texts from your cell phone since your fingers can’t type well because the keys are too small.

Mom: The only thing I hate more than that is having to learn some new fangled app two days before Christmas!!

Pam: This app is different, Nanny. 

Mom: I’m sure it is. And how much does it cost?? Why, if all of you would have taken the money you spent on this Magellan app and given it to Lottie Moon, the world would be a better place.

Pam: Nanny, its Marco Polo, not Magellan...AND its free!

Mom: Nothing is free, dear.

Pam: Never mind all that, Nanny. When I was over to see you the other day, remember I told you that I had installed an app on your computer? It was Marco Polo. So all you have to do is click on it. The icon looks like a beach ball...

Mom: Wait one confounded minute...a beach ball, you say? What in the Sam Hill does a beach ball have to do with this Ponce de Leon thing?

Doug: Just find the beach ball and click on it, Ma.

Mom: Well, I found the silly beach ball and I just clicked on the John Brown thing and nothing happened!

Pam: Use the clicker on the left side of the mouse, Nanny.

Mom: Good Heavens, what is all this?

Pam: Ok, now that you’re in look on the list and you will see a group called Family Fest 2000. Click on that and you will find a video that Doug and I just sent you. Click on it!

Mom:...incoherent muttering...Dad in the background, “take it easy, Betty...well, would you look at that!!”

Long pause......

Mom: Douglas...have you put on weight? Your face looks fat.

Doug: So, did you see the video? We told you it was easy! What do you think?

Mom: I think that you need to drop a few pounds, thats what I think.

Pam: So here’s how it will work on Christmas Day. Everyone will send videos to this app, then you and Papa will get to watch all of them. There will be music and stories, all kinds of things. You and Papa can even send us a video of your own.

Mom: So, thanks to Vasco de Gama here, you’re telling me I’ll get to hear my children singing hymns on Christmas?

Pam: Among other things...yes!

Mom:...long silence.....Well, I suppose it might be nice. Just goes to show that our father in heaven—who owns the cattle on a thousand hills— can take something as heathen as the interwebs and make something good out of it.

Pam: That’s right, Nanny! He sure can.

Mom: Well, be that as it may...I still say that that husband of yours needs to cut back on the sweets!

Family Fest 2020

One feature of all Dunnevant Christmas celebrations prior to the plague of 2020 has been the informal, impromptu concert of music that always breaks out after presents have been opened and dinner consumed. Donnie and I bring our guitars out and Linda sits down at the piano and music happens. There are beautiful carols and goofy songs, and songs from all of our childhoods. It’s one of the highlights of the day. Of course this year, thanks to the C Who Stole Christmas, spontaneous outbreaks of music won’t be a thing. 

Hold on...but what do my wondering eyes should appear, but a Facebook invitation from my wife so dear. 

With the help of modern technology, apparently we are going to try to make a go of it via Marco Polo. No, I am not referring to the 13th century Venetian merchant/explorer, nor am I referring that incredibly annoying middle school swimming pool game. No, I refer here to that marvelous answer to the question that absolutely nobody was asking, Wouldn’t it be great if we could text someone using only videos?? Yes, That Marco Polo. It will work something like this...anyone who wants to perform a song, read a story, play an instrument or whatever, simply signs up on the handy GoogleDoc that Pam attached to the invitation. Then, starting at a predetermined hour we will all perform our selections, submit them via the video app, then sit back and listen to the cheers and jeers that will naturally rain down on the performer. Thusly, we will be able to recreate the general ambiance of the singalong from three or four separate locations. Wonderful, right?

As I have tried to imagine what this might be like, I can’t help but think of my parents, especially my Mom. What in the world would she make of something like Marco Polo? More importantly, how, in the name of all that is righteous and holy, would we be able to explain to her how to use such a thing? I can still recall the angst involved in introducing her to Windows. I use the personal pronoun here in error. I had absolutely nothing to do with my mother’s computer education. That nightmare fell to my sister but mostly to my wife. With a level of patience that would make Job look like a foot-stomping toddler, Pam would labor for hours with Mom trying to get her to understand the general principles of modern computers...only to get called two days later by my distraught and unhinged mother, furious that she couldn’t remember how to...open a window. Trying to picture what all of this would be like if Mom and Dad were still with us causes me to laugh out loud at the possibilities. So, I’m thinking that I might write a What If story for one of my acts for Family Fest 2020 entitled, Marco Polo-ing With Mom.

I better get started. Only eight more days until showtime!

A Week From Today

I have a beautiful library. It has a wonderful desk with a perfect chair. I use it every day. Whenever I have serious work to do, or serious writing, that’s where I am. But not in the morning. I write this blog between the hours of 5:00 and 8:00 am and 90% of the time I’m sitting on the sofa in the family room with this for my view...

It’s comforting, even without all of the Christmas finery, but once the tree goes up its positively magical. A week from today, this room will be filled with every member of my family and three dogs. Those stockings will be stuffed to the seams with presents. There will be a gigantic box in one corner for all of the spent wrapping paper. The smell of sausage, eggs and cinnamon rolls will be in the air. The dogs will add comic chaos to the scene. I will begin the proceedings with the official distribution of the presents from underneath the tree. I will read with great flair the To: From: tags on each one since in our family they can be quite entertaining. Pam and I always use names of significance only to us from things that happened during the year. Since we watched Better Call Saul this year I can be sure one gift will be To: Saul Goodman, From: Kim Wexler. After watching The Crown, Pam will get at least one gift To: The Queen From: Prince Phillip. I know its silly, but it’s also tradition, and on this day, tradition is everything.

In the middle of all the unwrapping we will take a break for breakfast, another tradition with a set menu. There will be much laughing, and compliments to the chef. All six of us will be dressed alike in the matching pajamas that we received on Christmas Eve from Pam. Even this is a tradition started years and tears ago. My armoire has an entire drawer dedicated to nothing else except Christmas pajamas. I’m not kidding. I was thinking (hoping) that this particular tradition would have run its course by now, but then Patrick married Sarah, who so adores the idea that it has been given a new lease on life. When it is finally time for me to enter a nursing home one day, I will be the only resident who has a different set of pajamas for every week of the year.

When the presents have all been opened, the rest of the day will be spent in casual repose, each of us playing with our toys, drinking coffee and hot chocolate. At some point we will have to perambulate the beasts, which if the weather cooperates, will be a group effort with lots of pictures. Late afternoon will be for more lounging around with hopefully exhausted and napping dogs. Then once its dark outside, the kids will insist on a round of game playing. This isn’t my favorite part of the day, but everyone else loves it. I’m not talking charades or Monopoly here. No no...this is modern board gamery which features all manner of cooperative team building stuff. A couple years ago we actually played a game whose object was to cure the world from a raging pandemic before all of mankind was wiped from the face of the Earth. The only way this could be accomplished was with teamwork...working together, or in other words...the exact opposite of what the board games of my youth were about—-world domination and the complete annihilation of your enemies. Since I’m essentially a does not work well with other kids sort of guy, I am at a natural disadvantage when it comes to these cooperative adventures. I find myself internally scheming a way to find the cure for the pandemic, then figure out a way to corner the market and charge the other players ridiculous prices for the vaccine! Ha! Just kidding. I’m hoping that Patrick and Sarah leave that game at home.

Each of you reading this could tell me stories about your family traditions. Each are unique and special, a defining characteristic of your history as a family. This is something to celebrate. Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Christ, Emmanuel-God With Us. But its also a celebration of what it means to be a part of a family.

Christmas Came Early at Dunnevant Financial

So, my assistant shows up yesterday with Christmas presents for me. The fact that it was only December 15th didn’t seem to matter to her. She marches to her own drummer so I didn’t make a big deal of it. Anyway, she has been working for me for seven or eight years now and needless to say...she has picked up on several of my, er, tendencies...

The beef stick is already gone. I plan on wearing those awesome Christmas tree glasses every day until Christmas, and the cigars will be smoked with my boys out on the deck over Christmas. As far as the socks go, I couldn’t be more thrilled. Speaking of Dad Jokes....

Chinese take out: 8 dollars. Tip: 2 dollars. getting home and finding out they forgot part of your order...

Riceless.

No matter where I go, I like to bring my ukulele, then, whenever someone asks me if I play an instrument, I say...

I play a little guitar.

It doesn’t matter if you’re straight, gay or bisexual...

At the end of the day, it’s night.

I have a friend who writes songs about sewing machines.

He’s a Singer songwriter...or sew it seams.

I ran out of toilet paper recently and had to use the newspaper. Now the realization has kicked in that...

The Times are rough.

What do you call a knight who is afraid to fight?

Sir Render.

In Sweden the CEO of IKEA was just elected prime minister.

He should have his cabinet put together by summer.

Is it ok to start drinking as soon as the kids get to school...

Or am I just a terrible teacher?

The 12 Days of Christmas (in a pandemic)

It is perhaps the most unavoidable trap of the human condition to fall into during a crisis...despair. For most people, despair is the default human response to great and overpowering conflict. It takes a while. We do put up a fight, we do battle, mount a resistance. But most of us eventually begin to lose hope. When that happens, despair follows like night follows day. It takes a special person to stay positive in a sea of bad news. We all know someone who manages it though, don’t we? There’s always that friend or family member who seems to take whatever gets thrown at them and turn it into something amazing. For me, that person is my wife.

Don’t misunderstand, she has been discouraged by 2020 as much as anyone else. C, in particular, has caused her no end of anxiety and worry. She worries not just about getting it, but worse...giving it to someone else. Like the rest of us she gets anguished over how to interact with family during a pandemic, Christmas in particular. How do you plan Christmas with such a large and separated family? How do you spread Christmas cheer virtually? But instead of defaulting to despair, she does what she does best. She gets creative.

Like any other decent human being, she worries about her parents. She senses their growing frustration and isolation and can’t imagine them having Christmas in the middle of this mess. So Pam being Pam, she comes up with an idea. She fires up her laptop and starts shopping. Pretty soon she has curbside delivery pickup of 12 presents for her parents. She brings them home and wraps each one. Then she delivers them to her parent’s front door with instructions...Each day over these 12 days of Christmas you are to FaceTime me so I can watch you open one gift. But, before you open the gift each of you must share one Christmas memory with me. Last night was day one. Right around 6:30 she got a FaceTime call from her parents...a first! They sat on the sofa and talked back and forth, smiling and laughing and telling Christmas stories. For this one night they were not isolated. For this one night there was Christmas cheer. There are eleven more sessions to look forward to. Mission Accomplished. My wife is a genius.

It’s gotten me to thinking about doing something similar with my brother who is up in Maryland. This morning he beat me to the punch, FaceTiming me at 7:00 am to tell me a couple of stories about Dad he had been recently told by our Aunt Emma, Dad’s youngest sister, a hilarious story about Dad’s first car and the swindler who sold it to him. Great stuff.

So, I share this story in the hopes that it might spark even more creativity out there as we all adapt to this Pandemic Christmas season. 

Hope beats despair every single time it’s tried.

Fabulous News

Pam and I just received the fabulous news that all of our kids and all of their dogs will be spending six whole days here with us for Christmas. Plans had been up in the air because of the C word. That’s right, here at the Tempest, I have made the executive decision to use a capital C when referring to the viral elephant which has taken up lodging in every room of our lives. I’m tired of the word, tired of speaking it, tired of writing it. Anyway, news that all of us will be together for nearly a week is fabulous indeed. To prepare for the week, we have instituted a sort of quarantine-lite here at Dunnevant Central. It’s not a real quarantine or even a lockdown, more like a strategic withdrawal from our public lives. It works this way.

At work, it will be a mask-wearing affair with limited hours and interaction. Church will be live-streamed, ie...sofa church. Grocery store trips will be strategic, rather than random. All other store visits will be of the curb-side pickup variety. Interaction with friends and family over the next couple of weeks will be front porch affairs. Last night, for example, we invited my sister and her husband over to our back deck for a fire in my awesome solo stove. It was great to see their faces. Unfortunately, a quick glance at the weather forecast for this week doesn’t afford many more opportunities for outdoor meetings. Bad weather makes inventions like FaceTime and Marco Polo invaluable. In addition to these magical new communication tools, my wife’s feverish creativity has turned to very old communication tools as she plans out what Christmas with C will look like. There will be pajama-wearing, doughnut-eating Christmas caroling, front porch gift exchanges, to go along with some sort of digital, virtual, talent show/singalong thing she has flying around in that head of hers.

None of us want this. I hate the isolation. I hate not being in a crowded house with 25 members of my big, loud family. I hate the cloud that’s hanging over all of us, the realization that if one of us gets C everything gets blown up. But, this is the world we live in right now. There is nothing to be done about it besides being as smart as we can, doing everything we can to lower our odds of getting the dang thing.

Meanwhile, I can’t stop thinking about all the front line doctors, nurses, and hospital workers out there who are battling C non stop. What will their Christmas be like? What about the workers at Pfizer toiling around the clock to produce the vaccine, the truck-drivers on the road at all hours in horrible weather racing to deliver it to us? When will they get to spend time with their families? It occurs to me that compared to so many other people in this country right now, we have it easy. While the heroes all around us are working their fingers to the bone, I’ll be in my beautiful house surrounded by my beautiful kids trying to figure out what to do with these guys...

2020 is not the new normal. It will not always be like this. A day is coming when the curse of C will lift. It won’t be tomorrow, next week or next month, but the day will come when we can all embrace those we love without hesitation or fear. Until then, don’t lose heart.