The Christmas Movie Debate

The past weekend at the Old Redford Theater was Christmas movie weekend. They offered Scrooged, A Muppet Christmas Carol, and Home Alone along the way. The Sunday matinee was billed as a mystery Christmas film. 

"Is it a mystery surrounding Christmas?" me brother Phil and definitely not Cloyce asked.

"No, It's a mystery what the film is. They won't reveal which movie until opening curtain." Yes, they still have a curtain at the Old Redford.

Well, it turns out that Phil was kinda right (he never is more than kinda of right, and at that rarely). Imagine my delight when the movie turned out to be The Thin Man, a delightful comedy drama murder mystery with Christmas as a backdrop. It has William Powell and Myrna Loy as Nick and Nora Charles, the wonderfully bantering married sleuths. Great, crisp writing, fine acting, smart and funny quips between Nick and Nora; it's one of my all time favorite films. It was a satisfying surprise for me.

But is The Thin Man a Christmas movie? Along the lines of Die Hard I suppose it is, as the action occurred over the Holiday. That said, you figure it out. I have my opinion (I typically do) but today I'm just going to be the guy throwing the bomb into the room and running away.

Do you mind?

This past Friday we made a pretty good sale: a large machine with extra cables. It came to $3100, which for our small business is a very nice sale indeed. Truly, it made our day. And although we take credit cards and I will take checks from a trusted source, he paid cash. Cash is still king, baby.

As the customer left he asked if we had another unit in stock. I answered yes, but that it was spoken for as another man had left half down. He then asked, "If that guy backs out, would you give the same package I just got for $2100?" I stammered that I'd think about it.

Rudimentary math will tell you that what he was asking for was nearly one-third off the original sale. That's kind of bold for a guy to ask if you ask me, even having just made a major purchase.

My brother Phil, who has a quick wit, remarked after the guy had left, "Can you believe that? Asking for a grand off?" He paused, and then continued as though speaking in mockery to the fella, "Do you mind if we make some money off our sales?" 

True words, well spoken.

Donut anxiety

For a few years I taught college test prep classes. In an attempt to make students feel more comfortable and, hopefully, more open to learning, we allowed food and snacks in our classrooms. So I thought little initially when a young woman brought coffee and a donut into class one day. She set down her coffee, put the donut on a napkin, and, with the rest of the students, dutifully opened a textbook to the page I had indicated.

I began to expound about English grammar. She listened quietly and wrote a couple of notes as I went along. After a minute of two she took a pinch, literally a pinch, hardly enough to call a crumb, off of her donut and ate it. I thought quietly to myself, and very calmly, 'Take a bite of the donut'.

I continued with my lecture. Before long the young lady had another infinitesimal bit of her donut, then a tiny, bare, meager sip at her coffee. 'Eat the donut,' I said to myself, a little more encouragingly.

Rules of the comma were the rule of the day, so I pressed on. She took another vague nip of her pastry. 'Take a bite of the donut,' said Marty to himself, becoming perturbed at her manner of consumption.

After an explanation of comma rule three and a note about such, another pinch of donut. 'Take. A bite. Of your donut,' I thought emphatically. By then it looked as though a mouse had been nibbling at it rather than a human being eating it.

Comma rule five followed comma rule four. Pick, pick, pick at the donut. She wasn't eating the doughy ring so much as slow torturing it. That pastry was undergoing a horrible, painful death. My pulse raced; a drip of sweat formed on my forehead. My blood pressure rose volcanically. In my mind I was yelling, 'For the love of all that's good and holy in this world, take a bite out of that stupid donut!

The math instructor appeared in the doorway. We tagged teamed our classes and she had arrived to do a math review. I finished up, gave a homework assignment, and rose to go to the other room to talk about the comma there. As I made my exit I took a furtive glance over my shoulder. The young woman had just eaten another atom of her snack.

'Take an actual bite out of that donut,' the math teacher thought, with a touch of anxiety. I could see it in her eyes.

St. Nicholas Day

Today is St. Nicholas Day. Way back when, during the late 1960s at old St. Dominic School, we used to line up our shoes outside the classroom door on December 6, at least those of us in the lowest grades. The teacher would then distract the class with an assignment of some kind. A few minutes later there would magically be a small trinket or two, and perhaps a couple pieces of candy, in our footwear. We would have a quick celebration before getting back to our school work. That is a fond memory of this old man.

Happy St. Nicholas Day.

Ceramic Coffee Cup Philosophy

One of my kids, I honestly don't remember who (that'll get them to thinking and pointing fingers) accidentally dropped a coffee cup while we were on a visit to me Grandpa Joe's. It shattered, porcelain shards scattering all across the kitchen floor. As a parent typically does, I began to chastise the guilty party for not bring careful. Joe cut me off. "Hell, I never knew one to wear out."

I thought it was funny even at the time, and it says something about what our reactions might ought to be. While I don't want to excuse carelessness (children certainty must be taught to be considerate of things, especially other people's things) there's that old bugbear about perspective. It was just a common old coffee mug and it was an accident. And they don't wear out. It would likely get broken one day anyway.

Gruff as he was, I always thought Joe had a soft spot for kids just the same. I've told a few stories here that illustrates that. Add this to it.

Bird Evolution

Funny all the things you find on the internet. Funny too all the funny things which run through my head while I'm scrolling.

This morning I stumbled upon a sale for a 'smart' bird feeder. I suppose that means it attracts birds somehow, or doles out food on some particular schedule, or perhaps even has a camera where you might watch birds at dinner close up. Or are they actually watching you?

Yet those were not the first thoughts which popped into my mind. The very first thought I thought was, this feeder must be designed to help the evolution of bird species, because only smart birds will figure out how to use it. Dumb birds will die out. Survival of the fittest!

Bird evolution. It's entertaining to control natural selection. 

Whatever You Feel is Right for Cloyce

Me brother Phil and I routinely joke about how absurd it is when people say to do whatever you feel is right in a given situation. No; you should try your best to do what is right, feelings be damned. Now, I'm not trying to get all philosophical on you today, but you have to understand that principle as part of a years long running joke between he and I about feelings if you're to understand the following bit of humor.

Phil was working on an admittedly difficult repair yesterday for Cloyce's Plumbing. He began thinking out loud how to approach it, as though I might actually offer a useful hint. I finally said, "Do whatever you feel is right, bro," obviously referencing our running gag about the value of following your feelings.

"Well, I feel that there's no problem at all. So I'm going to take it back to Cloyce and charge him $100 for the inspection and analysis!" Phil said right back at me.

We laughed out loud. Cloyce didn't, ahem, feel it was all that funny though.