A Cautionary Tale (and my 100th post)

One beautiful Christmas holiday, a small boy received a glorious Nutcracker doll. The doll had been hand carved from a piece of sweet-smelling pine, and painted in glorious bright colors by his loving father. The boy played with the Nutcracker all Christmas day, smashing matchbox cars with it's black painted boots, chewing plastic toy soldiers to bits with it's exquisitely carved and brightly shining white nut-cracking teeth.

That night as his father tucked him into bed, the boy nestled his beloved Nutcracker under his arm.

"Nuttie," he said, "You are the best Christmas present ever!"

The strength of his boyhood love and the magic of Christmas night combined to bring life to the Nutcracker as the little boy slept. He remained a piece of intricately painted pine, but now with a conscious mind.

In the morning the Nutcracker tried to communicate with his young friend, but having no vocal cords, nor an ability to move his carved appendages, all he could do was clack his jaw. Fortunately, the Nutcracker knew Morse Code.

"G-o-o-d m-o-r-n-i-n-g, S-t-e-p-h-e-n!" the Nutcracker clattered. Actually, the boy's name was Roger, but they hadn't been formally introduced.

Roger looked at the Nutcracker strangely. Not knowing Morse Code, the Nutcracker's attempts at communication appeared to be aimless jaw rattling to the young boy. "It's jaw must be loose," he thought, "I'll have to see if dad can tighten it up."

The boy picked up the nutcracker and brought it in to the kitchen where his father was pouring pecan pancake batter on a freshly greased griddle.

"Hey dad, I think Nuttie might need his jaw tightened," said the boy. "It seems to be all rattle-y."

"I-t i-s j-u-s-t f-i-n-e t-o m-e," rattled the wooden implement of nut destruction.

Dad had learned Morse Code in the Navy, but he was pretty rusty, so he didn't put it together.

"Hrm, Roggie," he said thoughtfully, flipping a bubbly pancake. "Go get my flathead screwdriver from the bench in the garage."

Roger sat the Nutcracker down on the kitchen table and headed into the garage. Nuttie was perplexed. Maybe there was something wrong with him. His eyes were fixed in a forward stare, so he had no way to see his jaw firsthand. It certainly felt fine, though.

The boy returned with the implement as dad flipped the finished pancakes off the griddle and onto a green Christmas plate ringed in enameled ivy.

"Let's take a look at you," dad said as he hefted Nuttie off the table. He jiggled the lever on the Nutcracker's back.

"G-o e-a-s-y, b-u-c-k-o!" tapped Nuttie, aggravated.

Dad reached for the screwdriver and Roger handed it to him. "It appears tight enough, but we can give it another quick twist. He tightened the small screw a half-turn.

"H-e-y, o-u-c-h!" clacked Nuttie. The screw was squishing his face now, and his rosy cheeks ached a bit.

"Still a bit loose, sounds like," dad though out loud. He cranked the screw down another full turn.

The pain shot through the Nutcracker like a bullet through a bottle. "A-r-e y-o-u c-r-a-z-y?!" Nuttie shout-clacked, "M-y h-e-a-d i-s a-b-o-u-t t-o e-x-p-l-o-d-e!"

Dad cranked the screw another quarter-turn.

"CRACK!" The soft wood of the pine Nutcracker split asunder from the top of his bright red hat to the bottom of his glossy black shoes.

"Whoops!" said dad, looking at the two halves of the broken toy. Roger's eyes began to fill with tears. "Don't worry, son," dad continued, "I made a couple extra for the church toy drive."

"Sweet!" Roger exclaimed as he dried his eyes. "Can I throw this one in the fireplace and watch it burn?"

"N-n-n-n-n-o," Nuttie tried to clack his message, but his broken body and jaw weren't working. His wooden jaw piece worked free of the screw and dropped pathetically on the table.

"Sure, son." father turned back to the bowl of pancake batter, "Just be careful to make sure you pull the spark screen back in place.

Roger gathered up the broken Nutcracker eagerly as he headed to the brick fireplace in the living room. He pulled back the metal screen and tossed Nuttie's broken pieces on the slow burning coals.

A tongue of flame licked Nuttie's feet and then caught. "How strange" Nuttie thought. The flame didn't hurt - not like the tightened screw had. It just felt... dry.

The toy reflected on his short existence as the warm dryness of the flames engulfed him. "Perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut," he thought.

The pine cracked and popped. The colorful paint peeled and faded. Pine turned to ash as his soul floated away in the smoke up the chimney.

Christmas Spirit

Friday night I was out delivering pizzas, lost in the dark and looking for some semblance of address numbers on the houses as I passed. At the end of the street was a home brilliantly lit for the Christmas season. Santa Claus stood in his sleigh on the grassy front lawn, surrounded by blow up snowmen, snow-globes and a barrage of other holiday lawn decor. This was the house.

As I opened the car door and grabbed 2 steamy pizzas and a box of greasy hot-wings, Mannheim Steamroller wafted gently from hidden speakers. As I rang the doorbell, Jingle Bells started playing in tinny door-chime fashion as I waited on the front stoop. The dull glow of thousands of blue-tinted LED Christmas lights illuminated the receipt for $31.95.

My wife and I usually decorate our house with Christmas lights, but a fire last August destroyed all of our exterior lights. Being on a tight budget, we decided to buy a tree this year and forgo exterior decor until Christmas 2009. We had heard about the new LED Christmas lights, so I asked the homeowner how he liked them.

We chatted for a bit as he paid for his pizza, and I mentioned that our Christmas lights were destroyed last year. At this his eyes brightened and he said, "I have just the tip for you." He walked me out to the front of his garage where 5 large rubbermaid tubs sat, filled with Christmas lights. A lump rose in my throat as he started hauling them out to my car. They were filled to the brim with lights of all shapes and sizes. As we loaded them into the car, he asked only that I promise to put them up and wish my neighbors a merry Christmas.

I was blown away. To him, they may have just been some extra lights that he wasn't using this year. To me they were a very generous gift of Christmas Spirit.

The Boring Christmas Letter - 2008 edition

Posting our semi-annual (meaning sometimes we send a Christmas letter and sometimes we don't) Christmas letter:

---
To friends and family,

As I write this, I am sitting on our couch in the living room of our very own house! The trees are lit and loaded with ornaments and garland. Angels, reindeer and snow covered houses line the shelves and the piano. It is good to be back in our own home this Christmas.

A fire in August of last year displaced us from our home, so we spent last Christmas in a small rental property, harried by a million decisions as we tried to pick up all the pieces. The house was finally finished in May, so we moved back in mid-month. There are still a few boxes and some unfinished furniture pieces in the garage, but for the most part, we're settled back into some semblance of normalcy.

On the acting front, things have been a bit slow for Shondra this year. She was featured in a local TV commercial in the Spring and had a wonderful role in Smoke on the Mountain this summer at Texas Repertory Theatre. Currently she's performing in A Child's Christmas in Wales at Unity Theatre in Brenham, an hour west of Houston. So, while the work has been sparse, the roles have been rich.

For my part, I have settled in to my new job at MD Anderson Cancer Center. It's been a big change for me, and a bit difficult at times adjusting to the slower pace of a large organization. Having my nights free has given me time to play online video games with new friends and my two younger brothers.

Our world is uncertain, and this year has stirred up a lot of that uncertainty. Christmas reminds us that there is more to the world than war and presidents and the global economy. Two thousand years ago a young couple just starting out in life were displaced from their home to answer a census. During the course of the events that followed they brought a Child into the world that would change everything. That gives me hope because despite my effervescent personality, I'm just an ordinary guy.

Merry Christmas everybody,


Todd, Shondra and the kitties

Driving Mr. Pizza

So - tonight was my first night delivering pizzas for some extra cash. I would rate it better than getting trampled to death for working at Wal-Mart in New York on Black Friday. Time in the store is crazy - I started on a Friday night, no less - but once you are out on the road with the pizza, things are much more chill. It took me a while to get the bugs worked out, but Google Maps on my Blackberry was a decent co-pilot. My new Jawbone headset was a major help too. I ran into a couple of orders in apartment complexes and it helped to have the headset while I was talking, reading my map, and driving.

One thing from tonight really struck me. Most of my clients fell in the lower-middle class grouping - and all of them were really cool and tipped me well. The one person who didn't tip me at all had a nice house and car in a nice neighborhood.

That makes me stop and think. I've been that guy who didn't tip. As a delivery driver I'm making 4.55/hr when I'm on the road plus $1/delivery for mileage. Getting stiffed on the tip is a pretty shitty when you're barely making enough to cover operating your vehicle.