December Again

December Again

I had an interesting conversation recently which you, faithful reader, might find interesting. My wife and I were sitting in our favorite “Friday” restaurant waiting for our lunches to arrive when our waitress stopped at the table for a moment and said to me, “You know, I'm kind of interested in starting a blog. I know you write one because I read the one you gave the boss a few months ago. I liked them a lot and think I might be able to write some too. There are a lot of funny and interesting people who eat here and I'm sure that some stories I could tell about them would be really funny.”

The restaurant I'm referring to is the breakfast-and-lunch place that my wife and I frequent on most Fridays for lunch, as they have the best fish dinner in town! Bar none! And, for the record, the waitress's name who asked about blogging is named Lois. She's probably the most senior of the wait staff in this restaurant, at least she is from my observation. When Mike, the boss, doesn't show up, she handles the place and does a cracking good job of it, also. I don't know too much about the politics of the restaurant, but if she isn't a full partner in the enterprise, she should be. (hint to Mike)

I was pleased that she had stopped to chat a minute (they're always real busy that time of day) and that she'd read my scribblings and had enjoyed them. Writers and bloggers always appreciate an attaboy on the all too infrequent occasions we get one. I was also pleased she had came to me to ask about this fascinating pastime. I answered her with some quick, off-the-top-of-my-head suggestions and followed up the next time we were at that restaurant with some more detailed ideas.

She's been working at this particular establishment for a lot of years and I'm sure she's seen just about everything. I, for one, would really, really like to read her stories!

In any event, talking to Lois and helping her start fiddling with this cool hobby has got the old juices starting to flow and maybe the words will follow.

Let's see...

The trees in this northern portion of Ohio have all shed their fall foliage and now resemble gray, skeletal hands reaching toward the ashen sky. The wind blows cold and carries the scent of Canadian snowfields far to the north. It's either late fall or early winter, I guess, depending on your viewpoint. Seasonally speaking, of course. The calendar says winter doesn't start for another week or thereabouts. The heavier jacket I'm now wearing most days says the calendar is wrong again.

Christmas is drawing a bead on us, too, sitting 11 days away and laughing its ho-ho-ho's as we scurry here and there accumulating our offerings to its hungry maw. But this year I'm pretty much ready for it. Speaking of “being ready for it”, I got asked that very same, oft-repeated question this week by a nurse at the place where I get my allergy shots. She said, “Are you ready for Christmas yet?”

I answered her with a question, “How many times have you said that today?” (she sees LOTS of patients daily)

She said, “A LOT!”

We both laughed at the banality of the question and how it's recital was almost required this time of year. Tell me you haven't heard it yet.

I always try to make her laugh during my visits there. She's one of the world's good girls and I enjoy my short time with her every three weeks. It's amazing how much you can learn about someone in 10 minutes a month or less. I might know more about her life story than I do many of my co-workers.

Anyhow...

As I said, Christmas approaches. It is Christmas, isn't it? There is always that seasonal argument about “Merry Christmas” versus “Happy Holidays”. I don't think there should be, at least to my way of thinking. When I say “Merry Christmas” I'm ALWAYS referring to the single day. Christmas. When I say “Happy Holidays” I'm referring to the conglomeration of Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Christmas, New Years and, if you want to push it, Martin Luther King Jr. Day. I try to be precise in what I call stuff. So don't bug me about my seasonal greetings. I know what I'm saying. I use the written term Xmas from time to time also. I know that bugs people, too. Sorry. I'm old and set in my ways and it's quicker to write. Get used to it.

Another thing. I hate to break it to you but I've realized recently that I'm a bad person. For a number of reasons, actually, one of which I'll explain now. (the others maybe sometime in the future)

My wife and I have friends who live in a desert area not too far from Sedona, Arizona. We've known the lady for years and years – 40 plus – and the husband for some time also. We love them both to pieces. But... They're in Arizona and they only get back to Ohio infrequently.

And that's no doggone fun.

But recently they've decided to move back to Ohio. I know, I know, that's like a salmon swimming DOWNstream to spawn or a moth being pulled AWAY from the light.

Just. Doesn't. Happen.

But in this case, it does. I won't go into the reasons why they're heading this way. They're private to the couple and, anyhow, not relevant to this story. But at the time of this writing, they are in the midst of driving their motor home packed with household belongings across the country and are northeast Ohio bound.

Leaving their dry, warm, sunny desert to return to the snow, cold, sleet, icy rain, dreary days and general miserableness of a typical northern Ohio winter.

And I love it! They're going to be just up the road from us! And we'll be able to see 'em lots and lots!

I'm such a bad, bad fellow, aren't I?