Pre-Holiday Cheer

First, Seasons Greetings to One and All, Festive Ethnic Holiday Of Your Choice to You and Yours, Be it Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or VooDoo Day, Whatever! Enjoy it!

Whew, got that out of the way. Now on to the meat, lengthy though it may be, portion of the email.

Some news. Some of you have heard this and are vaguely annoyed that I've sent this to you via email, skip on to the next section. Mr.B won himself a DVD player and 3 free DVDs from a local radio station. Chicago's only FM talk radio station, 105.9 was hosting a pre-holiday contest for the listeners. The rules are that you fax or email, or call in your fake Christmas presents, be they naughty or silly or funny, whatever. Then, the host, Jonathan Brandmeier calls toy stores and requests these stupid, fake toys until the clerk gets mad and hangs up.

I faxed in a page of entries on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.
Johnny B used some of my suggestions on Monday, which put me in the running.

On Wednesday, he drew out my name and read it on the air. I am looking forward to a gift certificate to some website, where I'll order the DVD player and my 3 free DVDs, for delivery some time after the holidays. Some of you are wondering what I wrote on the toy lists, in fact, I'll bet you're fairly tingling with curiosity. Well, you'll be glad to know that I resisted the urge to include scatological humor in my toy list. Oh sure, other contestants were accepted for lame suggestions like "Scratch and Sniff Barbie, " "Camel-Toe Barbie" and "Chew My Nut Luggage Ken." But I would not allow myself to stoop to such lows. Aside from the obscure and only vaguely naughty, Mr. Vagina Head, all of my toys were clever inventions. Some of them included...

Rusty the Magic Yard Rake
Rock Em, Sock Em Hookers
Rubiks String
Hungry, Hungry Brandos
Different Strokes Action Figures and Playsets
Sparky the Cyborg Goldfish
Put this in your ear and Shove! by Milton Bradley
The Cheese Trampoline
and
WindowSmasher the Magic Broomstick Handle
oh and the unforgettable
Clear Plastic Bag Mask.

Yep, that load of crap won me a DVD player. Easiest home appliance I ever got. Now, if only someone would pay me to write crap like that (or crap like this, for that matter), then I'd be in the proverbial Catbird Seat. Until that day, I will continue to write nonsensical crapola for free.

So, that covers the DVD thing.

Um, so I went to the Second City Christmas Party. It was a raucous affair. Lots of people, 25 percent of them, people I actually knew. I met Andrew Alexander, SCs Big Executive Producer, The Big Dog. I also met Joyce Sloane, the other Big Dog. Joyce has been there since the beginning. She is a very sweet lady, who made Cranberry jam for the entire cast and crew. She also handed me my bonus, a nifty second City calendar and gave me a big hug and kiss on the cheek, and then asked me who I was and if I worked at Second City. She was gracious enough to treat me warmly before admitting that she had no idea who I was. Which is, I think, much classier than handing me my bounty and looking past me to see if anyone important was in line after me.

They say, that when she met Belushi, she looked at him and knew that he had "it." Her exact words, which come to me now, six years after I initially read them, were "He was, 'in the manner born." Something about him, caught her eye. When Joyce hugged me, and then kissed my cheek, she held me at arms length and said, "Now, who are you?" I told her my name and explained that I was new there. She repeated my name, to herself and then released me pleasantly. "Merry Christmas" she said, then moved on to the next person.

Which leaves me to wonder, if there is some possibility, no matter how remote, that maybe, possibly, could be, Joyce thought that she might've seen something in me, that was special. Something worth remembering. In the Manner Born.

Or maybe she was a little drunk and had to think for a minute before deciding that she didn't know me, nor did she need to.

I leave the interpretation to you.

So, I'll close this particular narrative, heeding the audiences requests for brevity. Before I sign off, I do have a request for you, dear readers. A good friend of mine, my former teacher and the man who allowed me to act an ass on his stage, Mr.D recently underwent back surgery. As I recall, he has always had trouble with his back and has had a few surgeries. As I'm sure you can imagine, hospital time is no fun time, so he may be pretty miserable right now.

So, I was hoping I could convince you guys, friends of mine all, to write him a small get well email. I thought you might hammer out a few lines, perhaps naming yourself, explaining your link to me, wishing him a speedy recovery, and then chastising him for unleashing me on an unsuspecting audience. Be sure to include me in the email address, I'm always game for a good ribbing. Even the shortest message would mean a lot to me, and the Old Man. I have faith that you will not hesitate to do so. You are all good people, of the highest caliber and I am honored to have so many good people, trapped on my email list.

His email address is as follows, feel free to copy it directly to your email message...

Mr.D@MyOldHighSchoolsWebAddress.ky.us

OK, I'll wrap it up, you've already run the entire marathon, if you've made it this far.

Be well,
Write Often,
Mr.B

Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow!!

Friends, Loved Ones and Other,

Well, the Christmas season has descended onto Sherwin Street with a vengeance. Unless you've been in a hole somewhere's, you've seen the footage or heard the news on the radio, CHICAGO IS BURIED UNDER SNOW! Or so they say.

I've been in the city and there is a LOT of snow. In some places, over two feet deep. And let me tell you, friends and neighbors, you haven't really lived until you've waded into a snow drift up to mid-thigh and looked down to see a smooth sheen of silky white ahead of you. Gives a person pause, it does! Especially when you see your dogs leash going into that very same snowdrift and moving around in it.

Yes, friends, the one person (?) who is really enjoying the deep, deep snow is Everyone's Favorite Basset Hound, Maggie! She is having a great time. Potty time is approached with a renewed sense of joy! Now, instead of just pottying, we run and hop and dig and sniff and sneeze and wag our tales and burrow and hop and jump in the air for no apparent reason! She loves it. I've taken Maggie into the long enclosed walkway on the side of our building and released her from her leash and she runs back and forth, hopping like a rabbit, over the deeper snow drifts. With each Tremendous (for a Basset) Leap, Her ears flop straight up in the air and she really does look sort of rabbitish. Back and forth, back and forth! She wore a trench along side the building, that the maintenance man used to anchor his shoveled pathway. We didn't even get a thank you!

But, when I'm not hopping and whooping to encourage the dog, I have to occasionally go out in the snow to do things like work and shop for Christmas presents. As you would expect, the trains are running slower. My hour long ride to work, took me an hour and forty-five minutes today. but the heart of this big, bustling city has taken it all in stride. No one complains when you are late in weather like this, usually because they had the same trouble coming in themselves. It's just understood. I have learned the Chicago Natives Code of Understanding, (feel free to use this whenever you feel appropriate). When someone tells you that they were late, because of the trains, you look down and shake your head, slowly, and say "The trains. The trains. " Over and over, a few times to yourself. Then clap the other person on the back and go back to work. This, seemingly, nonsensical ritual establishes a bond between speakers and assures the tardy individual that all is well. Sometimes, being late is okay.

My big, beautiful city fears no snowstorm. Instead, she dusts off the snowplows and sprinkles salt and sand and grit to provide traction and she shovels the snow into huge piles at the corner and she moves on. It's really a sight to behold.

Monday, when the snow was strongest, we were released from work early. It was a strong snowstorm. Snowflakes were so big, that you could feel them hitting you in the back of the head and shoulders. Like, fat, quarter sized snowballs, they smacked into you at incredible speeds. The snow was thick, too. Visibility was down, at some times, to less than ten feet ahead of you.

So, when we were sent home early, people rejoiced. Better than the feeling of school being closed, it was more like school was called off, midday. Even better! I chose that day to go to the License Bureau and got my official Illinois drivers license. A great time to go, because the place was deserted. It took me all of twenty minutes and one written test. So, now I carry an Illinois License. It is actually a good picture. I'm not smiling like a retard that's just discovered his first erection. Instead, I look serious, vaguely dangerous. Which is exactly the message I want to send to the cops. Or do I? Too late now. Ask to see it, when next we meet.

Also, tonight, we bought our first Chicago Christmas Tree. She's slightly taller than me and full and round. Currently, she's home to three strands of multicolored lights and two dozen ornaments. Tomorrow, we add a few more lights and a few more ornaments. Then, she'll be done. But, we shoved her right in the window, where the whole world can see her. If you're in the neighborhood, drive by and look up at her. See if she isn't the prettiest tree, you've ever seen. It's really pretty and everyone chipped in to her decoration. Now, I have to wrap my presents and all will be ready for the Holiday Season. I have only a few more presents to get and I will be done. I started shopping early, and it has definitely paid off.

Well, I am going to sign off. I have to take a shower and hit the sack. I have a full day of filing ahead of me. Woo-hoo!

Before I go, though, here's a new joke, I just heard today. If you already know this one, don't spoil it for the others.

Question: What do you call a midget, psychic on the run for committing a crime? Answer: A Small, Medium at Large!

HA! I love THAT one! Midgets kill me! I'm still laughing at THAT one!

Be well,
Bundle Up,
and Write Often,
Mr.B