The Real Santa

Where did this whole notion of Santa Claus come from? I remember as a young boy getting so excited about Christmas that I would try to stay up as long as I could to get a glimpse of the big guy. I would hide in my closet and listen intently for any sound of the sleigh touching down on the roof or the bells around the necks of his reindeer. Back then it was all about the mystery and magic of Santa and the gifts he was sure to bring. I didn’t care much for the whole “naughty-or-nice” list thing; I figured Santa took pity on those of us who may have strayed during the year. I knew I was bad and yet Santa faithfully hooked me up anyway.

I have thought many times since those days about just how Christ-like this Santa Claus fellow really is. I guess maybe that is by design since he represents all that is good and right about Christmas. Even a non-Christian can get on board the Santa train because of this goodness. Youngsters are blinded by the “things” part of the equation. As we get older however, we understand that it is the selfless “giving” part that is at the heart of it all.

The story of the birth of Christ has always made sense to me. I am no religious scholar nor do I practice my own faith. But, in spite of my failings I can fully get my head and heart around the reality that Jesus was born of humble circumstances. He was brought into the world at a time and a place without fireworks and fanfare. His parents were modest, imperfect human beings chosen to take part in this most awesome of undertakings; the gift of the Savior to the world. Our Heavenly Father, knowing our tendencies toward selfish pursuits, allowed His Son to come into this wild wicked world, receive a body, and live as the rest of us…….only better. Not better from the standpoint of status or wealth, but better in the sense that He set the perfect example of how we all can and should live.

Some would argue that the Savior should have come mightily from the heavens for all to witness so they would instantly believe it was in fact Him. I think the beauty of this story is that He came in under the radar; a simple, tiny gift from heaven with more value and worth than anything earth could provide. The reality of this first gift is at the heart of this thing called Christmas.

Jesus spent His life sharing His simple gifts of love, compassion, forgiveness, and service to all who had the pleasure of knowing Him. He embodied the Christmas spirit because He was Christmas. After a short lifetime of goodness unequaled by anyone, he offered Himself as a final gift of sacrifice so that we all can have the opportunity to return to our Father in Heaven. Has there ever been a greater act of love? Rephrased, has there ever been a greater Christmas present?

The story of His humble birth, life of love, and final sacrifice should resonate with all of us as we sit in our closets waiting for Santa to show up this and every year. Just as Santa always came through for me in spite of my perpetual status on the “naughty” list, Jesus comes through for all of us with his pervasive mercy, grace, forgiveness, and love. So as I lie awake tonight anxiously awaiting a sign that the big guy has found me again, it wouldn’t surprise me much if I look by the fireplace and catch a glimpse of Santa looking a lot like Jesus.

Citizen Defined

Thank goodness members of my family are feeding me material to compensate for the absence of anything substantive from me! My Padre was impressed recently by news story describing how some U.S. companies are truly going the extra mile in support of the military Guard and Reserves. Companies like Sears employ policies that are directly contributing to the war effort by taking care of those who are taking care of us.

(http://www.searsholdings.com/communityrelations/hero/military.htm)

Most Americans have no real appreciation for the sacrifices of our citizen soldiers ("soldiers" here refers to Sailors, Airmen, and Marines too!). They come from all walks of life and when not in uniform, might be found doing any number of jobs in the community. Their greatness lies in the reality that they are like everyone else but with one exception. They hold down a part-time job that requires at times that they forgo all they know, love, and do as a matter of routine in life, lace up their boots and head off to serve and fight on our behalf. They are the only thing standing between most of you able-bodied Americans and the draft.......man, do you owe these folks BIGTIME!!!!

Since the days immediately following 9/11 these selfless super-heroes have been all over the globe doing their part-time gig full-time. Many have completed multiple tours of duty and too many have come home in flag-draped coffins. History will show that any victory we have achieved and any claims of a war won will rest on the reality of their contributions and sacrifice. Whether or not your politics and/or personal constitution can stomach the realities of our current struggles, you cannot argue against the merits of these fine Americans and all that they have done and continue to do. The days of the flawed reference to them as "Weekend Warriors" has been supplanted by a simple branding of "Warriors".

If you know a Guardsman or Reservist, give them a hug and say thanks! Thank them for doing what you would not. Thank them for taking time away from their regular lives so you can continue on with yours. Find the lonely spouse and children whose Mom or Dad are far away during this holiday season. Reach out to them and show your appreciation for what they endure on your behalf. And for those who left never to return, look to the heavens, smile, and offer a silent prayer of gratitude to them for paying the ultimate price as your proxy of selfless sacrifice.

Oh yes, one more thing.......as you are looking heavenward, thank God Almighty for instilling in the hearts of some Americans the strength and desire to be different, act different, serve different, even at their own peril.

Sibling Perspective

Quality material from my younger brother...........too good not to share.

The World's Shortest Fairy Tale:

Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl 'Will you marry me?' The girl
said, 'NO!'

And the guy lived happily ever after and rode motorcycles and
went fishing and hunting and played golf a lot and drank beer and scotch and left the toilet seat up and did whatever he wanted.

THE END

Nary a Cohesive Thought

I have been quite remiss in posting anything of late. My brain is on lockdown for some reason. Not sure if it's the holiday madness, work, school, or what. It's not like I have stopped thinking about EVERYTHING in the world......that's just what I do. I just cant get focused into a groove of verbosity.

I like guns so I think I will do a brief rapid-fire "top-ten-things-in-my-head list".............here goes.

1. 5-10 guys with some will and minor coordination can change the world......thinking of Mumbai.
2. Most people cannot drive worth a crap.......especially during this time of year. If you are one of them, fix yourself!
3. I admire young people who are devoted to anything; school, family, church, career. My kids amaze me every day of my life!
4. The Secret Service needs to reevaluate their training programs. The Iraqi should have have been neutralized with extreme prejudice after throwing the first shoe.
5. The world should give more credit to single fathers......they do great things in the midst of bad odds too.
6. Everyone should experience at least one Christmas season away from all they know and love.......do it, you won't regret it.
7. There is extreme power in doing what is right even when you really don't want to.
8. Obama and his band of merry followers have their work cut out for them........a good reminder to always be careful what you wish for.
9. Silence is one of the greatest gifts of life........enjoy some soon.
10. Take the time to thank a veteran; they deserve it and you owe it to them.

Signed,

Scatterbrained

Kicking to Nowhere

I love soccer. It’s called the beautiful game for a reason. It’s the combination of skill, speed, and endurance. I have had the pleasure of watching all of my children play at one time or another in their lives. I know they tired of me yelling commands from the cheap seats but the things I would tell them actually worked if applied. I played a little back in the Stone Age myself!

There is a tendency in the beautiful game that drives me nuts. You would think that with a team of eleven players and two goals from which to choose, no one would ever simply kick the ball without a purpose. But, it happens all the time. I call it kicking to nowhere and I have probably yelled that phrase equal to or greater than the number of soccer matches I have attended or watched on the television.

In a team sport that requires max participation of all involved I can’t for the life of me understand why a player is so quick to get rid of the ball and toward a direction with no tangible yield. If you think of it in terms of what happens when you do the opposite – meaning kicking to somewhere – it puts it all in perspective. Kicking to somewhere leads to opportunities which lead to goals being scored which leads to victories. That “somewhere” could be a teammate, a section of the field that starts a run on the goal, or to the goal itself. The “somewhere” has a purpose behind it, “nowhere” does not.

I can’t help but liken this phenomenon to our lives. How many of us spend inordinate amounts of time kicking to nowhere? Think about it…….

Do you get yield because you are making well aimed passes to your life teammates? Do you set up the conditions for success because you place your ball (metaphor for energy and effort) in a portion of the field where something positive can be done with it? Are you willing to pull the trigger and take the open shot or even the hard shot because the goal is in front of you and it’s yours for the taking?

I have yet to see any soccer team, no matter how skilled the individual players, have any degree of success or victory by spending 90 minutes kicking the ball to nowhere. In contrast I have seen teams suffer many losses and players disenchanted with the game because of that very tendency.

So too have I seen this in life; from others and from myself. If you equate your time on this earth to a 90-minute soccer match, you might realize how important it is to take the time and make the commitment to kicking your ball to somewhere. It’s unfair to let your teammates bear your share of the responsibility and you’ll never truly appreciate your own skill in life unless you own your actions and ensure they have purpose.

The next time you see a soccer match in progress, take the time to have a look and see if you don’t agree. Kicking to nowhere is wasted effort and leaves you with nothing but a sore foot.

Bully Stomp

I know a fine young man who has a heart of gold. He's 12 years old and in 6th grade. He is a fun-loving kid who loves sports, video games, and soccer. He is likable and very loving to his family; especially his Mom. Last year he started acting quite strangely each day before school. He would wake up frazzled to the point of spending his first hour awake on the throne. He popped Pepto for breakfast instead of his favorite chocolate donuts. He left home in tears and struggled to get through each day.

This went on for several months. Each attempt to ascertain what the problem was met with insistence from him that he didn't know. His teachers were at a loss too. No one could nail it down. Finally, a tearful breakthrough came one day as he got it off his chest and told his Mom what was bringing him down..........he was being bullied at school.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago. Again the behavior reared its ugly head. He was distant, withdrawn, and sick to his stomach. Believe it or not, when asked if his "problem" had resurfaced he adamantly denied it....at first. It didn't take as long this time to get the truth from him. The same bully was back in action.

Long story short, the problem is being dealt with but it highlights a reality that is disturbing. There is a tendency for victims to fear the perpetrator more than trust the good-guys in their life. They will let the pain of intimidation destroy them rather than tell someone who cares. What makes matters worse is when the oppressor threatens the victim with greater pain if they are inclined to rat them out. Talk about compounding the fear.

We live in a world full of bullies. They are not only in the schools, but in business, industry, and the government (ours and others). They come in all shapes and sizes and all have a similar motive. They want someone else to hurt so they feel better. The problem is they never feel better because ultimately they are miserable for one reason or another. Or, they have been victims themselves so they pass it on to others. Either way it creates a situation of pain.

What is needed is a massive Bully Stomp. If all the would-be victims in this world would rise up and kick the shit out of their respective bully, it might just send a long-needed message. Now I know the "experts" and the "pacifists" among us would argue against it. Yes, each situation is different and yes, some victims might not be as innocent as others. But, think of the power in a revolt! History has shown that a good uprising can make a difference.

The best way to disrupt the planning and execution of an adversarial plan is to do the exact opposite of what they are expecting their victim to do. Their intent is to do their deed at a time and place of their choosing. They expect success and gain strength with each subsequent action. They target the perceived weak among us so as to make their job easier. This is why it is so important to cut them off at the knees, right when they begin. Hit them hard, hit them fast, and don't stop until the threat is neutralized. In the words of one segment of the fighter pilot community; "Go ugly early!"

Teach yourself, teach your kids, teach your friends and family to commit to a life free of victimization. Make the decision now to disrupt the bullies in your life. Not every case calls for the extreme, but sending a message appropriate for the level of pain being inflicted upon you in not unreasonable. What matters most is that you do something and that they don't get to do what they had intended. Each effort toward this end will empower you to hold your head a little higher, display a little more confidence, and make you a much less attractive target.

And, if by chance you happen to be a bully........standby!

Splashback, Nose Mining, and Deep Breathing

Work has been slow lately so I have had the freedom to think a bit. One thought that keeps returning is how nasty grown men are. I make the trip to the restroom several times a day. Nothing out of the ordinary, just standard visits. Being a fairly aware individual I can't help but notice the fruits of some habits that really rub me the wrong way.

Men have the ability to direct flow by virtue of their anatomic design features. Like any gun, you point and shoot.....so to speak. The fluids to be expelled can be easily directed toward the receptacles designed to receive them. No rocket science needed, at a minimum just one eye focusing toward the target. Why is it then that so much of the stuff ends up on the floor and all over the sides of the urinal? I have no proof but I daresay that some blokes purposely angle the stream such that they achieve optimum splashback. Maybe there is a secret society I am not a member of. All I know is I am tired of standing in the waste of others while making a donation of my own. By the way, I am anal about the angle of flight thing. Different shaped urinals call for different angles of attack and I know how to achieve a splashbackless visit!

So while enjoying the experience of being forced to stand in, on, or near urine, I also get the dubious pleasure of staring at nose giblets mined from the nostrils of these lads with the misguided weapon systems. Why in the name of all that is good in this world would someone feel compelled to relieve themselves of foreign nasal objects right there while they should be more focused on flow direction. I'm starting to see a connection here. Now I understand that all humans are susceptible to foreign objects cropping up in the nose. I'm no exception. I do however feel there should be a removal protocol that doesn't involve multitasking at the urinal. Someone please tell me if I'm wrong here. The 30 seconds or so it takes to relieve oneself should not subject the individual to glaring at the nasal waste of the previous customers.

Now on to the last of my gripes de toilet. Why in heaven's name do individuals perform he-hoo breathing while releasing the hounds? I must have missed that day in class too! Maybe it's just because there are a lot of middle aged fat guys on my floor at work who use the same restroom as I do so I am hypersensitive to this phenomenon. I've noticed that most of them breathe like they are running, in labor, or having relations. I have checked myself and I do not do this. I employ the stealth mode at work where if you couldn't see my feet you would have no idea I was even in the next stall. I don't announce my presence by creating a vocal wind tunnel of funk to add to the wonderful aroma of the place. I just sit, shit, and hit the bricks.

My aim (haha) is not to offend anyone here. I just marvel sometimes at how humans behave; especially at work. Hopefully my job will get more interesting soon so I can put my mind toward something more worthwhile. If not, I'll find something else to complain about.....guaranteed!

The fabric that feels good.

Saturday morning was beautiful. My wife and I took her son Matt up to a local school so he could participate in a running event. The entry fee for participation was 4 cans of food for needy people. I watched these young elementary school students and their families enthusiastically participate and support this great cause. The smiles and cheers were many as these young runners put one foot in front of the other, from start to finish, willingly and happily.

In one of the half-mile races, this young boy with Down Syndrome was struggling and ended up walking far behind the rest of the pack. As he approached a point in the course where he was closer to the masses, his face lit up and he started to trot, then a jog, then he was running! As he passed by me and I saw his smile and the love and support he was receiving from people he didn't know, I soaked it all in and was very grateful to be there in that moment. That event had fabric.

Yesterday morning was beautiful as well. My wife, step-son and step-daughter arose and headed out to downtown DC. I have been wanting to get my lazy butt back in shape so I signed up to run in the inaugural 5K run to support the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial Fund (http://www.nleomf.com/). As all of the runners stood in a cool breeze waiting for the start, an officer from the DC Metropolitan Police Department beautifully sang the National Anthem. I looked up at the standard of this great country and reflected on the many selfless sacrifices made by willing Americans to make yesterday possible. It was easy to pay tribute to them with a little time, sweat, and effort.

As I took off at the start I felt pretty good. I watched my step-son and step-daughter launch like two bullets.......I knew that would be the last time I saw them until the finish. They are both in great shape and quite good runners. I started losing steam fast. I have been somewhat inactive of late and traveling a lot. Not an excuse, just my reality. I tried to stay focused on running to honor those fallen warriors who paid the ultimate price in service to their communities and our nation. As I struggled up a hill on the south side of the U. S. Capitol a thought occurred to me. The discomfort and pain I felt at that very moment paled in comparison to the probable fear experienced by many of those great Americans when they realized that their tour of duty was over. It was a humbling experience.......an experience that had fabric.

With the busy weekend drawing to a close I settled in back at home Sunday evening, tired and ready for bed. I turned on the tube to check on some football scores. I guess it was fate that I hit CBS just as 60 Minutes was coming on. Their opening story took the viewers to a remote corner of eastern Afghanistan (http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=4531399). These guys are in the thick of the fight, existing each day where most Americans would never venture. They voluntarily do what has to be done so we can spend weekends with our families; cheering, running, honoring, living. More fabric.

I was spent. Between the two runs, a wonderful orchestra concert watching my daughter perform beautifully, and a soccer victory for Matt's team, I had nothing left to give. I had taken in much from the weekend and reflected extensively on what made it all possible. Sometimes we forget to stop and really embrace these moments we are given. They don't come to us because we are deserving. They come to us because we are blessed. All that is good has a price and many have paid on our behalf.

Our nation's fabric is its communities, its children, its servants, its families. Without these we would cease to exist. Without these we would have nothing to fight for. Take the time to look around, appreciate what you have, get involved, share the burden of responsibility for keeping this country the best on the planet. To do anything less is to be ungrateful, and dishonor those who have done and continue to do so much.