My post-Christmas post

I'll be brief on this one, because I'm ready to get away from the screen and keyboard for a while.

I'm happy Christmas 2008 is now in the history books. I know the children are too. After all, this is the time of year that Santa Claus is almost a distant memory, and all that he left is being played with and enjoyed regularly now.

There are still reminders of Christmas though... in the form of

re-runs on TV. Right now, the Late Show on CBS has a Christmas performance on. I'd normally change the channel, but it's Harry Connick Jr. doing a jazzy version of "It's the most wonderful time of the year." I'm a fan of Harry's, so I'll leave it on for now.

David just asked him where he got his vest (which I wondered the same thing.) When Harry answered, his mic wasn't on. Let me rewind it to see if I can read lips...

Well, wouldn't you know it. My DVR tells me there's an error and it won't let me rewind the program. I guess I didn't need to know where to get that vest after all.

Post no (more) bills

This is a look at one of those gargantuan roadside signs that clutter the cornfields and cow pastures across the land. It's of interest to me, since I'm on of the 4 faces plastered up there like some kind of Texoma Mt. Rushmore. This particular billboard is on Highway 75 in Denison.

The reason is worthy of a note here is because it too may soon fall victim to the so-called economic downturn facing this country.

"Mt. KXII-more" may come down next year and not return for the unforeseen future. I think I overheard someone once say the package deal for around a half dozen of these costs somewhere around $60,000 a year.

Sure, that's a lot of money. But I'm in the business of getting messages across, and its effective. See that guy over there at his desk working his tail off for me though? What if there came a time when I had to make some cuts to the money we're spending? If I had to decide between his status as a company man and whether my face keeps smiling at the traffic on Central, you know I'll choose the job.

But I'd rather those boards come down regardless of the economic situation. It's hard to go to the store without someone telling me the billboard artist made my teeth too white.

Toting a note from Santa

Santa Claus was good to the young ones in our household this year. After spending Christmas Eve helping the meteorologist track the big man using NORAD's "Santa Tracker," I believe he arrived at the homeplace around 3:30am Christmas morning, and left everything the girls wished for... with one exception.

The eldest of the 3 asked for something called Bendaroos, and I've researched it extensively only to determine it's junk. But most toys are junk in the end, except they make kids happy. Anything that makes kids happy has a designation superior to junk, even when it is just that. Junk!

Bendaroos... "As seen on TV" You can't buy a box of these things in stores. You have to go online. I wondered if Santa had wifi up at the North Pole.

He left a note on the coffee table explaining that he was sorry that there were no Bendaroos under the tree this year, because they must have fallen out of the sleigh as he flew over Jamaica. Santa went on to say that an elf would drop them off as soon as he could retrieve them. Now my little big girl keeps talking about an elf coming to see her. Greatness.

As expected, Christmas was a big hit for everyone in the household, except for me of course. Despite the warmth in my heart over making their holidays special, I'm a little selfish. I'm one of the many who get down in the dumps this time of year, and that's just a fact nobody can get around. Not even me.

Christmas is a special mark on most every one's calendar in my part of the world. That's even true for people who aren't Christians. They may not celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ and his status as a saviour to all that believe in him, but they still pause for the cause. They join in their Christian counterparts in hoping for the familiar but underrated phrase 'Peace on Earth. Goodwill toward men." I hope too.

The network radio star and Austin storyteller John Henry Faulk made a living on making people laugh, but he also made his mark by making people think. His style was extremely rural. The TV show Hee Haw used his talents in the 1980's with success. It turns out though, that on that corn-pone comedy series, Faulk appeared to be one of the most intelligent. (I think Archie Campbell was the other brain on the show.) Faulk's account of one Christmas gained popularity when NPR aired it in the 1970's. I wept when I first listened to it. I can't listen to it anymore, but you can by going here.

Since Christmas is a special mark, it also allows your mind to go back to those happy memories of Christmas' past. Christmas takes me to several places in my mind. The most prevalent is a trip back in time to the faces and sounds of loved ones who've left this world long ago. It takes me back to trips to my great grandparents. It's waking up to a tree so tall that Daddy had to get out the industrial ladder so Mama could decorate the top. It takes me back to actually cutting a Christmas tree from the woods outside of town, whether it was on my family's land, or some ditch east of Austin Chapel.

Christmas is my Mama Lizia's tea cakes. It's Nannie & Papa's fake Christmas tree. It's bags of fruit delivered to the residents out at Sunny Acres Nursing Home. It's taking highway 44 home from Mama Tidwell's house in hopes of seeing Santa Claus flying across the sky. I never saw him fly, but we took that route because 30 years before, my Mama was a small child- and her family thought they saw Santa on that road. Christmas was seeing the train roll through town and wondering when Daddy would be home again. It was Uncle Joe Shumake and his red Chevrolet pick up.

It was the Methodist Church on Christmas Eve, the Baptist Church for Christmas Day, and making decorations in Mama's kitchen to hang on the De Kalb community Christmas tree.

It's a lot of things to me that aren't there anymore, and while I smile when I think back to them... the smile fades when I return to reality.

But leave it to my house full of young people (partner included) to put the smile back on my face. Knowing they're healthy and growing (and happy) is worth a hundred Christmases.

Attention Wal-Mart shoppers

1am Friday night Sherman Wal-Mart. All I came for was milk.

The coffee is cold

Have you ever woken up and it was so cold outside that you just had to crawl back in bed, as if you were retreating from the advancing attack of air? These days, many homes have central heat & air and their occupants don't have to worry about that so much.


We live in an old house. Despite the heater in the attic blasting away, we're still susceptible to those attacks by that chilly air. I got up extra early this morning. I had a long list of chores to take care of at work, so I needed to get a head start. Despite the early hour, I was still delayed a bit in starting the day because I retreated too. It was an adventure to slip out of bed so I wouldn't disturb the blankets and dash to the wardrobe to silence the alarm. Once the noise was gone, I dashed back to the bed and eased back underneath the warm blankets for a few more minutes of comfort.

It's this kind of weather that makes me think of this song that I used to play back in my radio days. "Cafe on the corner" wasn't Sawyer Brown's biggest hit, but it was a catchy tune from the early 90's. Somewhere in between the chorus and the verses, is a line "...and the coffee is cold. And he's 50 years old." It's all about a sad little community where the farmers are calling it quits and the town is dying. It's not exactly a cheer 'em up tune. Why that line keeps sticking in my head, I don't know.

By the time I got to work at 8am, Tom Miller said it was 31 degrees and windy in Sherman. I'm already planning a lunch hour of retreat, just for good measure.

He should go because he's lost control of his team

A story in today's Dallas Morning News caught my eye. It read "Wade Phillips has to go," or something along that theme. It turned out to be a column on the Dallas Cowboys head coach. I don't follow football very well. I guess you could say I follow it about as little as any male Texan is required to, so I can carry on a conversation about the game. That's it. The article went on to say Phillips has lost control of his team.



But I've followed Wade Phillips since he was hired on at Valley Ranch by the venerable Jerry Jones. Since Jones bought the team in the last 80's, he's been a "salary caps to jock straps" kind of manager. He's a guy that has his hands in a little bit of everything when it comes to America's team. Phillips has lived a long time in his father's shadow, both as a player and NFL coach. When the iconic Bum Phillips was active on the sidelines, young Wade wasn't too far away. He was either just a few feet away, or up in the press box with a headset on talking to the coaches below.



Ol' Wade's had his challenges as a first year head coach of the Cowboys, and the line about losing control of his team really struck a chord with me. I found myself comparing my situation with Wade's. He inherited a team that was once the best around. It was the dominant organization. Everyone wanted to be like the Cowboys. That faded long ago, and Wade was tapped to try and restore the glory. But he's dealt with more than wins and losses. He's dealt with more than budgets, strategy, and vision.



He's been mired in the drama. He's had compromise his desire for creating a positive culture, because he's been too busy dealing with bickering, disloyalty, and other personality-driven junk. Now critics are calling for his job. I don't know for a fact, but it sounds like there are people in the Cowboys organization that are hoping for the same result. Now is that fair?



I don't know, but I think I have a small idea of the situation he's in.



Here's to hoping he'll find the right solutions and here's to him gaining control again.