christmas – I like to write junk…

A CHRISTMAS POSTCARD

“I’ve been tempted to send Christmas cards in July, but thus far have resisted.”

Each Christmas, my wife takes the Christmas Cards we receive, opens and reads them, and then tapes them to a pantry door. My mother did the same, although she used a wall because we didn’t have a pantry.

After New Year’s is over, Joleen removes the cards and puts them back in their envelopes, so that she has a current address to mail ours the following year. People still change locations, so that’s an easy way to keep updated on their whereabouts.

There was a time we received close to 100 cars from friends, family, and businesses, but that number has slowly dwindled. I believe last year, in 2024, we got a total of 19. Some of the senders passed away, while others just don’t mail them anymore.

I recall my mom scratching her head, attempting to recall if so-and-so sent a card the previous year. With my wife keeping ours in a box, that’s no problem. Forty years ago, I came up with an idea so that people wouldn’t have that problem.

I took over the letter-writing department during Christmas, always making sure that our ‘form letter’ was bizarre and unforgettable. While Aunt Betty’s card and letter might not be remembered 30 days after getting them, I didn’t want that to happen with ours. I’ve had friends and family say that they think I’ve lost it, but at least they remember the card or letter. That’s what counts most!

We’ve sent out cards with our two parrots supposedly writing things, along with an attorney, a garbage collector, neighbors, a complete stranger, and firms that we supposedly paid to write because we were too busy. I even had a holiday form letter printed out with fill-in-the-blanks.

The phony lawyer’s office letter was 20 years ago, and I still recall the firm’s name: Bend, Ovar, and Takum. Another year, I had a rubber stamp made with our signatures in cursive, going on to let it be known the following year, in a Christmas form letter, that some folks were upset because we didn’t take time to sign them ourselves. It’s reminiscent of the Joe Biden autopen controversy.

The best cards we mailed were a select few that I took a propane torch to, scorching them just enough to make them look like they’d been in a fire. That card envelope was stamped, with me having to carefully draw black spiral lines across the stamps to make them appear as cancelled. I only addressed a certain number to family members.

A blackened card and envelope were then placed inside another plain brown envelope marked USPS, with an official-looking note inside, supposedly from the US Postal Service. The note said that the mail was damaged from being in a warehouse fire. We waited two months after Christmas to finally send them.

Family still talks about that, with a good majority believing that the warehouse fire actually took place. I suppose there is a question as to whether this act was legal, but the statute of limitations has long run out.

Back in the early 1900s, Christmas ‘postcards’ were quite common. I made my own one year, taking small 4×5 index cards and gluing a photo of Santa on the front, with him saying Merry Christmas.

There was little room to write a note on the back, with us just proclaiming, Happy New Year. I believe that’s the one we mailed right after Halloween. I’ve been tempted to send Christmas cards in July, but thus far have resisted.

Finding an early Christmas postcard from 1907 on eBay, the person receiving it was Mrs. Mildred Taylor, who lived in New Philadelphia, Ohio. Someone with the initials B.L. from Kokomo, Indiana, sent it with the following cryptic letter. I’ve left words as written.

“This is the 17th. I missed the mailman yesterday. I don’t know if this will be today or not. Accident if it happen.

Freeport, O.

December 16, 1907

Dear friend Mildred,

I thought I would drop you a few lines to let you know I am all O.K. and am having a pretty good time but it’s not Philla. How are you I can almost see you as I sit here writing was just looking at your picture and I bet you could not guess what mother said, I suppose not anything good, ha. She suffering lot. Hear from you soon. B.L.”

Mildred A. “Mary” Peacock Taylor spent her entire life in New Philadelphia, Ohio, along with her husband, Earl. Hopefully, Mildred interpreted what her friend was telling her because anyone else reading this note wouldn’t totally understand. I suppose that’s intentional on the writer’s part.

Nowhere is there mention of ‘Merry Christmas’ or ‘Happy New Year’, although the front of the Victorian-style Christmas postcard does say, ‘A Peaceful Christmas’. The photo of a frazzled Santa with a large bag of toys makes it appear he isn’t having one!

FRUITCAKE

“The big joke nowadays thanks to Johnny Carson is that a fruitcake will last forever.”

A recent article printed on 12/22/2024 in the “Today’s News-Herald,” written by Daniel Neman of the “St. Louis Post-Dispatch” struck a nerve with me. Neman’s article was on holiday fruitcakes. He was talking about the edible kind and not a two-legged variety that most of us have encountered in life.

Daniel Neman mentioned how fruitcakes came to get such a bad name, with it lying squarely on the shoulders of late-night television show host, Johnny Carson. Mr. Carson used this traditional holiday dessert in a 1989 joke monologue viewed by millions—criticizing these cakes as being something that people hate to receive as gifts or to eat. Johnny wasn’t speaking for everyone and he almost killed the industry with his baseless comments.

Our family always had fruitcake at Christmas or New Year’s, courtesy of my late Uncle and Aunt Noel McDaniel in Birmingham, Alabama. Mom generally received one as a gift from the various hospitals she worked for. My brother and I could devour a sizable loaf within a few days. I especially loved the green, yellow, and red candied fruit pressed inside.

The big joke nowadays thanks to Johnny Carson is that a fruitcake will last forever. That might be true if they’re frozen, but over time, even covered, they’ll dry out and become inedible. This rarely happened in our household. Dad and Mom liked fruitcake with their coffee while Jim and I had ours with milk or hot cocoa. I’ve been told more than once that fruitcake, like bacon, is unhealthy and plugs the arteries. It’s something about trans fats.

The folks condemning foods like fruitcakes as unhealthy without any scientific proof are the terroristic gadflies of this world. I’ve encountered multitudes of such people over the years—self-proclaimed experts on any particular subject after they’ve read a book, seen something on Facebook, or listened to Doctor Nutcase on an infomercial. For the most part, those offering “free advice” on television end their spiels with an offer to buy pills or books for $29.95.

Erroneous nutrition advice started with friends and acquaintances lecturing me that eggs were bad. This was in the 1970s. According to these armchair nutritionists, cholesterol in eggs was over the top and would turn my veins to stone. I listened to them for a while refusing to eat eggs or drink milk, until hearing later that they’d changed their tune. A three-egg omelet with a glass of 2% milk is now my breakfast of choice.

I’ve been told that red meat will kill me, including soda pop—both diet and regular, decaf coffee, high-fructose corn syrup, prepared frozen dinners, or anything microwaved in plastic. Eggnog is also on that bad list. I even had one person warn me about microwave popcorn with added butter. Supposedly, if the butter aroma is huffed, lung damage will occur. I’ve never been one to huff or sniff popcorn bags. Who does?

The warning I laugh most about regards McDonald’s or fast-food restaurants. More than once I’ve been told after hearing a gasp, “That stuff will lead to a heart attack!” The first McDonald’s came to Anchorage, Alaska, in 1970, and I’ve been eating at the Golden Arches ever since. That started over 55 years ago.

If the food we eat today is so bad, why are people living much longer than they did 200 years ago when vegetables, fruit, and meat were considered free of hormones and preservatives? I try to eat healthy according to what’s labeled healthy by my doctors, and for the most part, I’m successful.

I understand that anything consumed in excess has potential health consequences. Euell Gibbons was a nutritional guru to the extreme. He was a guest on Johnny Carson more than once. Euell promoted Grape Nuts cereal as being healthy and was an advocate of a low-fat high-fiber diet. Gibbons was called a nut cruncher back then by my friends and others. During that time I was a Grape Nuts fan as long as a bowl of sugar was within easy reach.

Euell Gibbons became a practicing Quaker and I have much respect for him due to this alone. Regardless, he fits the fruitcake mold where handing out bogus advice regarding nutrition is concerned. Euell evidently felt that totally foregoing certain foods would keep him around a few more years. Had he stopped smoking cigarettes that might’ve been worth another decade or two.

Gibbons died in 1975 at age 64 of a ruptured artery. Perhaps had he consumed a bit more eggs, pork, and beef he would’ve stayed upright a while longer? We’ll never know. What I do realize is this—somewhere down the pike—we all leave this world. Just because a person is vegan or doesn’t dine at McDonald’s isn’t going to stop such things from eventually happening.

The most important thing to remember here is that it isn’t what we eat, but the plans we’ve made on where we’re going after our ticker stops. John 3:16 tells us how to do that in 25 easy-to-understand words. As a Quaker and a believer in Jesus Christ, Euell Gibbons made that wise decision and so have I.

Before turning out the lights, there’s one last slice of fruitcake left in the fridge. All I need is a tall glass of cold eggnog to wash it down. Partaking of these two delicacies once a year hasn’t killed me yet!

LADDER OF JOY

“I’ll try to reignite my holiday spirit by watching Hallmark Christmas movies with Joleen, yet I can only take so many repeated scripts and bad acting.”

I haven’t been totally filled with “Holiday Spirit” for some time now although the top is still within reach. I’m not talking about the free-flowing spirits with which many find necessary to celebrate Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s.

Some folks look for these three holidays—along with Labor Day, Memorial Day, the Fourth of July, and Donut Day—as a time to drink to their heart’s content. By the way, Donut Day falls on Friday, June 6, in 2025.

The holiday spirit or cheer I’m talking about is uncontained excitement such as what kids experience in elementary school right before Christmas, knowing that classes will soon be put on hold until after the first of January. Brightly wrapped presents underneath the tree go along with this.

I don’t need to be reminded of the real reason for the season: Christmas. It’s the birthday of my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. That alone is reason enough to continue celebrating life and be filled with joy.

In my book, Thanksgiving began when the Pilgrims broke bread with Indigenous American Indians, while New Year’s means another year has passed. It’s also a time to look to the future.

Like so many older people, I tend to now look at holidays with a touch of sadness. I often think back to the time when parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and good friends were still here to celebrate.

I’m elated to still be around and take in activities with my own children, grandchildren, and pals, yet the elimination of debilitating back pain and other physical ailments in my body would make for a bit more elation. Only those going through such will understand.

My wife and I decorated for the first time in several years mainly because the grandchildren were coming for Thanksgiving. I had our Kansas-manufactured, metal Saguaro cactus wrapped in red, green, blue, and white LED lights which entailed working off a ladder in the back of our truck.

A few close calls were made going up and down it. The Made in China faux Christmas tree in our living room was safely put together and thankfully has built-in bulbs. I’m sure these decorations will be up through a portion of the new year.

Christmas cards are still a part of our holiday experience although only a few now get sent. We’ve got boxes and boxes of them, enough to last ’til the dinosaurs come home.

Sadly, finding cards in our mailbox is slowly dying much like people we know—five this year alone. A friend was just diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. His doctor recommended that the family be notified immediately. That news is never easy to take.

I’ll try to reignite my holiday spirit by watching Hallmark Christmas movies with Joleen, yet I can only take so many repeated scripts and bad acting. Last week, two movies in a row had basically the same plot. I can generally predict the outcome.

Not to totally change subjects, but Albertson’s recently had Martinelli’s sparkling apple cider on sale and I purchased eight bottles for the holidays alone—two at a time because this was the limit. Being nonalcoholic—there’s plenty of carbonation in this juice to bloat a whale.

Of course, gas is an unwanted byproduct of carbonation. On the positive side, apple juice supplies seniors with a sufficient amount of fiber.

After downing my share of the delicious fruit elixir, watching Christmas movies with anyone on New Year’s Day wouldn’t be a wise idea. A solo walk in the desert will work best to start 2025 off on the right foot.

It’ll also be a good opportunity to thank God for all his blessings, reflect on the past, pray for friends and family, and pray for this country’s future. If 2025 starts as well as 2024 ends, my holiday spirit should move up another rung on the ladder of joy!