As I begin to type, it’s 8:45 (CST). A scant few hours remain in this year’s Christmas Eve offering and here in Texas it’s a mild but windy. Tomorrow, many of us will open gifts and swollen, red eyes to match, courtesy of God knows what allergens are blowing in from wherever. Actually, cedar is the biggest offender. Every winter, those damn tree/shrubs have a sex life and everyone suffers. Texas has its own version, really. Tree nerds will tell you our own tree comes from the genus juniperus, NOT the genus thuja, which is your average, everyday cedar. So, if you love Texas for its mild winters, friendly residents & because it’s a right to work state AND has no state income tax, enduring the indigenous cedar’s libidinous nature each December, January and parts of February is a necessary evil.
Onward…..
”It’s A Wonderful Life” is on right now, serving as very familiar background noise as I try to compose this holiday post. It’s one of my top five favorite movies of all time. I watch it several times a year and always on Christmas Eve. It’s a personal tradition whether I’m alone or in a house swarming with other humans. i watch it because George Bailey is my hero, so is his wife, Mary. They make long suffering through daily drudgery seem almost tolerable. It’s the Capra touch. I wish I would’ve known ol’ Frank. His directing style is warm and funny and oddly optimistic.
We need the Capra touch. Desperately. Now.
Well, it’s taken me almost 38 minutes to write the dribble I’ve written. Guess it’s not in me tonight. So, I’ll leave you with this: it’s my most fervent wish that 2022 can auto-correct before it’s even duly noted noted on the calendar. I hope the year offers us all viable options; I pray it provides us with a multitude of choices, each one more optimum than the one before.
Life isn’t worth a damn without options. I think of the people who survived the attack and collapse of the World Trade Center towers. Some did simply because of choosing to turn left instead of right. I think of the survivors that somehow lived to tell their amazing stories behind that horrific series of tornadoes in Kentucky earlier this month. I think of those who willed themselves to live through nightmarish scenarios, the kind that make baffled detectives, behaviorists and historians go slack-jawed.
I have to go now: George Bailey has just been rescued by Clarence Oddbody, AS2 (Angel/Second Class). Over the next 24 minutes, including commercials, both characters are about to get some humdingers for Christmas presents. Clarence will get his gossamer wings befitting a full-fledged angel and George will finally see the benefits of decades of deprecating self-sacrifice and it’ll happen at a most crucial times in his life. Because George made choices all his life. His choices became his beliefs. Then, as his life continued and one Christmas Eve he stands before a stash of much needed donated cash dumped on his living room table….it’s then that we see how George’s beliefs affected his choices.
He chose right. Rightly? Right??? Anyway, he made the right choices at what seemed like all the wrong times.
Life is so tentacled.
Hee Haw and Merry Christmas and everyone, please openly welcome in 2022.
