Christmas past

Bird in the tower - Mexico

judybluesky recently posted about the "sense of need that I will never forget". It got me thinking about Christmases past. When my kids were little I was a single mom and we were very poor. Yes, we all had feet and we all had shoes and we had a roof over our heads. I don't take that for granted but I couldn't even afford to buy new shoelaces. I pulled them off of the shoes that ended up in the Co-Op free box. You can pontificate all you want about "true spirit", Christmastide around our house was always a bit sad.

In a good year I might manage to save up fifty bucks by Thanksgiving for Christmas gifts but that money had to be spread between several people. I was always, and to this day, too ashamed to tell my sister I couldn't afford to exchange gifts so, besides my own three kids, I bought presents for her, her husband, their three kids and my brother. Actually they all came first because their gifts had to be mailed. Everybody got shitty, little things from the second hand store. I admit I didn't want to abandon the tradition because my sister sent nice things which was a big treat for the kids. Not only did they get something new and cool, they got cash and, more importantly, they were reminded that they were part of a bigger family that also loved and cared for them. My sister also occasionally sent us a supermarket gift certificate, her way of making sure the kids got a hearty holiday meal and, I suppose, that I didn't blow the Christmas dinner money on booze. My brother sent cash for Christmas. Sometimes it was a hundred, sometimes two but it was more likely to arrive on Christmas eve or after Christmas than before. That genuinely sucked. I needed it to buy the "real" gifts for the kids.

To brighten the holidays I went to the Welfare office every year and signed the kids up to receive presents from the "Tree of Joy". Perhaps you know how that works. Children are represented on the tree by little tags that say things like, "Girl, age 9 - Likes books and games" with addendums like, "Needs winter hat" added at the prompting of a grown-up. That kind of thing. Good-hearted people in the community pick a tag and buy that child a gift. A few days before Christmas, a smiling old couple would appear at our door, usually Soroptomists, with three gifts. They were very nice. It was very embarrassing for the whole family but I couldn't talk myself out of these sad attempts to make Christmas look "normal". I also signed up for the Welfare department's Christmas food voucher. But, in spite of my efforts, Christmas was never the best of times.

This is my twentieth sober holiday season. The kids are grown and gone on to their own lives. Life is generally good these days but for the shame and regret I have over my failings as a parent and that (horrible) "sense of need I will never forget" that judybluesky mentioned. It's irrational but I sometimes feel apologetic that my standard of living has so dramatically improved since those days. I wish the changes had come sooner, when the kids were still little, but things happen in their own time. It's better today so we go from here. Besides what choices do I have? Like they say, reality is for people who can't handle drugs.

I didn't go with the bird party photo for the birthday card the other day. I used this one instead.

Task of the day

I begin with what must be done, carving it out of all that should be done. And among what must be done I look for a thread with which to unravel that crucial first step because without defining a simple starting place I will get nothing done, no matter how urgent. I have come to accept this about myself.

Today the time-sensitive task is making a birthday card and wrapping the present and, most important, mailing them by the end of the day. I already have the gift. I need the card so the first thing I have to do is select the photo. I am thinking about using this one that I took last winter but perhaps it's not right? I have one hour. If I accomplish this, I will count the day personally productive. A small measure for a priceless and irreplaceable day in one's life but nevertheless it is the task of this day.

In case you're wondering, I have already done other things today. It is not that I just woke up from too much sleep, or sobered up to be overwhelmed by the life awaiting me. No. But I am in shock at all the Xmas tasks awaiting me on the living room floor, the piles of gifts sorted out by name and family. And my motto for the season is "keep it simple". But today, the birthday gift must go and to that end so must I.

Street scenes, Mexico

Here are a couple of photos I took in Mexico recently. To me, these two particular images have a lot in common.

No exit strategy

2127

Which idiot would make a better president:
Alfred E. Newman or George W. Bush?

(I realize it's a tired old comparison
but we still haven't gotten it right. Otherwise,
why don't we impeached the bastard?)



Here's a nice photo from Variety.com showing Mr. Spaz and President Hu Jintao sharing a chummy photo during Bush's recent visit to China. Now check out our dingbat President struggling to get off the stage in this clip at FuckBush.com. This man is our "leader".



Alfred E. Newman? George W. Bush? Who would be a better president? After all, Alfred doesn't even exist. No problem. Neither one of them are real. They are both idiot media creations. Alfred. at least, would be doing a lot better job than Dubya. He isn't a lying, draft-dodging, high rolling, war mongering traitor.

Home again

We're back from the Yucatan. Over the all, we drove about 10,000 miles so my photo to miles ratio held at 1+:1, the 1+ plus being the number of photos and the 1 being the mileage. Not bad. I've deleted a lot and will delete many more. Then there are the ones that make sense only to me. I'll keep those. Among the remainder, there are a few worthy of presenting to you, the rare, much appreciated, occasional visitor to this tiny outpost border crossing. Also, naturally, I have a few things to say about the trip and, for your traveling convenience, I have compiled a list of tips for people brave enough to leave the gringo trail and travel in real Mexico. All this to come. At the moment, I must get coffee. Outside of tourist joints it is nearly impossible to get a good cup of coffee in Mexico, the land of coffee, a fact I find nearly impossible to comprehend.

Get it RIGHT. Get us OUT.

2110


Go sign the petition at MoveOn.org. Tell Congress to get us out of Iraq. I did. Here's my letter:

"Get us out of Iraq NOW. We should have NEVER gone there in the first place. You were all FOOLS to go along with Cheney and Bush. Now get it right. Get us out!"

It only takes a few minutes and it is the very least we can do so now you send one.

Right to NOT die

2105

Commenting on the Iraq war, Washington Post Op-Ed Columnist Michael Kinsley said today: "The last man or woman to die in any war almost surely dies in vain: The outcome has been determined, if not certified. And he or she might die happier thinking that death came in a noble cause that will not be abandoned. But if it is not a noble cause, he or she might prefer not to die at all. Stifling criticism that might shorten the war is no favor to American soldiers. They can live without that kind of "respect." - kinsleym@washpost.com --------------------- I couldn't agree more.

We crossed into New Mexico this morning and are currently, happily, tucked in into the Sands Motel in Socorro, New Mexico. It's a great, family-owned place directly out of the '50s except for the fact that the owners are a nice, vegetarian family from India and we have high speed internet in the room. A fantastic deal all for $40. This morning we stopped to visit the International UFO Museum & Research Center in Roswell. Nothing new there but it was fun anyway. I admit, I have been a "believer" since childhood. At that time, I was in the habit of secretly staying up past bedtime to scan the skies for flying saucers with my binoculars. One night a milky white, quarter size light suddenly shot into the open skies above the trees. I dumped the binocs and watched. It was climbing very quickly so in seconds it passed over the house and out of sight. I ran to my parent's bedroom and looked out their window. Nothing. I ran back to my room and looked out my window again. To my total wonder and delight, there were now four milky white, quarter size lights stopped in the sky above my room. They had formed a square, and hung perfectly still in the night sky. They stayed like that for about a half a minute then the three in the SW, NW, and NE corners, maintaining formation, broke off and quickly disappeared above the trees to the NE. The fourth one, in the SE corner of the square, shot away in that direction, retracing the path of the original light. That was it. No funny scars. No weird dreams-like memories but I have been looking ever since so, no matter how hokey, stopping at the museum was a must. A bit further down the road we pulled over to visit Smokey Bear's grave and museum. It cost two bucks to walk the path to Smokey's grave so we peaked over the wall instead but the museum was a free, sweet, homespun place housed in a small log cabin. There were the usual things ... tshirts, cups, hats, jewelery etc. but there was also a wonderful collection of Smokey Bear memorabilia including photos of baby Smokey, anitque posters and products long out of circulation and several scrap books of Smokey's newspaper clippings, photos and lots of hand scrawled fan letters to Smokey from grade school kids from the 40's on. A little while later we passed the last stronghold of Billy the Kid. New Mexico! Great place. Smokey the Bear's Grave, New Mexico