November 29, 2017
Just Saying…
By Q.C. Jones
It’s the Christmas Season – and I Believe!
December is the season for believing… I believe. As I think about the festivities thundering along like the North Pole Express, one can’t help but ponder the coming weeks. If you listen closely enough, you can hear the echo of reindeer hooves on the roof and the howl of winter winds pushing through the pines. Memories flashing through the mind are a wondrous thing. I thought I would share a few of my own.
I believe I will have another cookie…
My paternal grandmother was one of the finest cookie makers on the planet. My dad’s childhood friends used to tell stories of visiting my grandma’s house as kids and leaving with sacks of her freshly made cookies. My uncle tells me his adult heart condition had a direct tie to the number of lard based cookies consumed before age 10. Should I keel over of a heart attack tomorrow, I could make the same claim.
My Grandma Ula made cookies of every sort imaginable and did so from her childhood till the day we finally laid her to rest. My personal favorites where the little round pecan snowballs. Their size made them perfect for grabbing a handful. And, as she used to say, “Take two, they’re little.”
I believe only one slice of pie causes undue stress…
My maternal grandma Opal was a professional pie maker. She was a big, strong lady of the German farmer variety. These Germanic gals were brought up in a culture where hugs and other demonstrations of affection were few and far between. Applying some of the knowledge gained by watching a few episodes of Dr. Phil, I have surmised baking pies for yours truly was an emotional outlet. Based on this premise, I was smothered in pie laden hugs and kisses.
During the Christmas Season, her house was a pie smorgasbord (assuming you can apply a Scandinavian term to German culture). Ranging from Apple to Cherry and then to cream pies of every variety, her pies covered every square inch of the kitchen counter. But my personal favorite, the one that replaced birthday cake and I was born on National pie day, was her fabulous raisin pie. But, here in was my problem.
I could never pass up the raisin, but the others were tempting. My grandpa made the wisest observation ever, “Have two pieces one raisin and another just because.”
I believe these words of wisdom still stand. Avoid stress, have two slices or maybe three if nobody is counting.
I believe I should have gotten a Red Ryder B.B. Gun back in 1962…
Call it miscommunication, an elf having a bad day or what you like, but I believe I should have received the holy grail of the little boy world for Christmas back in 62. I am pretty certain, I made Santa’s “nice list” based on the pile of other presents. I am absolutely sure I spelled Red Ryder
properly in my letter to Santa that year. And, I can think of no other logical reason for not equipping a soon to be nine year old boy with the premier shooting iron of the day. But, for some reason, it didn’t make it to the tree. The next year, I didn’t beat around the bush with Santa. I laid it out straight. Santa came through the next year, and it came equipped with a high power scope.
I believe I will shirk responsible friendship and not send cards this year…
Happy Holidays, Season’s Greetings, Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah probably won’t be coming your way from the Jones household this year. Unless, of course, my lovely bride gets a double dose of ambition and triple shot of caffeine. I believe – these cute little cards served their purpose in an internet free era. And, if you are looking for a Yule Tide “puke letter,” let me give you a quick rundown. Junior will be celebrating Christmas with his new friend in jail. My drinking is worse than ever and my otherwise lovely wife is suffering from arthritis in the many segments of her coccyx. Watch for my thoughtful message on FaceBook, it will be my latter day equivalent of a card.
I believe in Santa…
I know Santa exists. He was good friends with my grandpa. As a matter of fact, I once heard Santa comment, “Hey Red (my grandpa’s nickname), you’re coming down to the Eagles later tonight for the card game.” How can anyone anywhere possibly doubt that Santa exists with a recollection like this? Maybe, I got more presents because Santa lost in that final game of pitch.
I believe I should wish you all a joyous Christmas Season…
As they used to say on the radio, the old clock on the wall says it’s time to go. QC Jones has to head out to the mall to see his old pal of 60 plus years, the Merry One himself, Kris Kringle, you’ve got it Santa. With that, here’s to a great Christmas Season. Just saying…
Just saying…
