Thursday, December 16, 2004

Happy Christmas

This isn't a contest per se, but who cares?

I would like all Snabulus readers to pass along their happiest Christmas related experience. You know, that time you stopped the street fight on Christmas eve using kind words and Krispy Kremes or similar. I'd like some true stories, but there is always room for a little satire I suppose.

5 comments:

ladybug said...

One of my favorite happened just today on my way to drop off "The Kid". KINK 101.9 FM again; Adam Sandler's Hanukkah Song!"ok ok this is a song that uh, theres a lot of Christmas songs out there
and uh not to many Hanukah songs so uh I wrote a song for all those
nice little Jewish kids who don't get to hear any Hanukah songs."

Put on your yamakah,
here comes Hanukah,
so much funnukah to celebrate Hanukah,
Hanukah is,
the feastival of lights,
instead of one day of presents we have eight crazy nights!

When you feel like the only kid in town,
without a Christmas tree,
Here's a list of people who are Jewish,
just like you and me!

David Lee Roth,
lights the Menorah,
so do James Konkirk Dougalas and the late Diana Shora,
Geuss who eats together at the Carnagi Deli,
Bosher from Shanana and Arthur Fonza Relli!

Paul Newman's half jewish,
Goldi Han is too,
put them together what a FINE lookin jew!

You don't need Deck the Halls or The Jingle Bell Rock,
cause you can spin a dradle with Captian Kirk and Mr. Spock!
(both jewish!)

Put on you yarmakah,
its time for Hannukah,
the owners of the Seattle supersonikahs,
celebrate Hanukah!

OJ Simpson,
NOT A JEW!,
but geuss who is?,
Hall o' famer Rod Karou!

We got Ann Landers and her sister Dear Abby,
Harrison Fords a quater Jewish!,
NOT TO SHABBY!

Some people think,
Ebaniser Scrooge is,
well he's not but geuss who is?,
all three Stooges!!!

So many Jews are rich o' biz,
Tom Cruise isn't,
but I heard his agent is!

Tell your friend Veronica,
its time to celebrate Hanukah!,
O don't forget a harmonica,
on this lovely lovely Hanukah!
So drink your gin and tonicah,
and smoke your marajuanica!
if you really really wannukah,
have a happy happy happy,
HANUKAH!

DewKid said...

I considered doing a silly, and possibily twisted Christmas story, but then I remembered one of my happiest Christmas experiences. This is a true story:

My Dad has always been a Jack-of-all-trades, and fondly takes on new hobbies (if for a short time) just to see how he likes it. Many years ago, before my Mom passed away, he took up canvas painting.

After rather successfully copying a painting for my Mom from a picture of a painting she took as a little girl (depicted a handsome soldier sitting crosslegged outside of town watching at the sun set), he decided to do a painting for friends of his that were getting married. The painting was that of a male African lion with a full mane cuddling up with a female lion on the African plain. He poured his heart and soul into that painting, perfecting it every day until he could touch it up no more. I often think that he put his feelings for my Mom into that painting, and I know that he was very fond of it. So much so, that it was very emotional for him to give it up as a present to his friends.

Many years later, after the marriage of his friends had ended in divorce and Mom had passed away, he still thought about the painting, and often wondered if it still hung on a wall somewhere, or was lost in the back of a closet, or worse, tossed away. I often thought to myself, "wouldn't it be fun to retreive that painting and give it to Dad as a gift?". One day, I decided to act on this thought. I started by calling the female friend to see if she still had the painting. She told me that she did, and that it still hung on the wall of one of her rooms. In a moment of selfishness, I asked if there was any way she could part with the painting. She was very kind, and told me that she enjoyed the painting for all these years, but that she wanted my Dad to enjoy it again.

She lived nearly 5 hours away from my home, and being winter (November or so), I knew it would be a difficult drive. I would have done it too, except for the feeling that was gnawing away at me that I was doing the wrong thing. The more I thought about it, the more I thought I was wrong in asking her for the painting. I finally decided to call her again, and tell her that she should keep the painting. To my surprise, she laughed and said that the painting was already in town! Apparently friends of hers from very near my home had visited recently, and had brought the painting back with them. I needed only drive across town to pick it up! She also told me that she really wanted my Dad to have it again, and to call her on Christmas day after he had opened his gift.

On Christmas morning, we opened presents as usual, continuing until there was nothing left under the tree. Dad seemed to be enjoying himself, though it was tough for him without Mom being there. I announced that Dad's "main" gift was still behind the tree, a large thin rectangular present with a silver bow. Dad chuckled, as he wondered what could be in that package, and was being silly about shaking the present. He tore the first strip of paper away, and his face changed completely. The words "Is that...." and then nothing. As he removed the rest of the paper he was very very quiet, and I could see tears welling up in his eyes, the second time in my life I had ever seen him cry.

Later that afternoon, I called the friend back and told her that he was very happy to have the painting back, and was grateful beyond words that she had returned it. She cried too, and wished us a Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Don Snabulus said...

Okay, this isn't a contest, but DewKid wins. (sniff)

Thanks for sharing that with us.

Anonymous said...

DewKid's was awesome. Mine is just a little nugget, but a memorable one.

One year I bought my grand nephew a bike. It was his first bike and he must have been only 5 or 6. We opened up all the Christmas presents and I told him that I had one more present.

I brought in the bike and he was stunned. I've seen all forms of excitement from screaming to jumping up and down, to stunned excitement. This kid was stunned to the point where I don't think he quite believed it was happening for several minutes. He appeared almost disoriented until finally someone talked him into going outside to try it out.

I was extremely impressed with myself for quite some time for coming up with the gift that could stun. It turns out that the little guy has Asperger's syndrome, so what I really did was excite him into a kind of seizure. Nonetheless, when it all wore off, he was dang happy with his bike.

The Moody Minstrel said...

No chance here of competing with DewKid, either, but I'll add this to the pot, anyway. I don't have any really profound Christmas stories, but I have a number of little "possibly heartwarming" ones. I'll share this little tidbit.

The first time I brought my fiance (now my wife of ten years) over to Oregon was Christmas Day 1992. It wasn't an easy feat to pull off. She was still living with her parents, and it was tough to get her tyrannical and obsessively protective (read "chronic control freak") father to allow her to do anything, especially with me. He was already firmly convinced that he had successfully terminated any and all contact between me and his daughter. What we finally had to do was arrange a deception.

My fiance had done a homestay in Sacremento in her high school days. What happened was that I asked my grandmother to send my fiance a letter inviting her to come and visit. When the letter arrived, as expected, her father opened it and had an English teacher friend translate it for him before she ever saw it. When her father then demanded an explanation, she told him (trying hard to cover her growing nose) that my grandmother was a relative of her former host family. He then not only gave my fiance permission to visit, but had his English teacher friend send a return letter. (Fortunately, I had already explained the situation to my grandmother, and she'd been quite understanding.)

The flight via a Northwest Airlines 747 to Seattle was uneventful, but from there we had to transfer to a Horizon Air flight to Portland. SeaTac, as it happened, was completely socked in. Total pea soup. We arrived at the Horizon terminal to be told that all flights were canceled until further notice on account of the heavy fog. As the time for our flight grew nearer, my fiance and I stared out the window watching the fog not dissipate and feeling our hearts sink deeper and deeper into our lower abdomens. About twenty minutes before our scheduled departure time, an announcement was broadcast saying that our flight was currently in a holding pattern over the airport and would remain there, hoping for an opportunity to land, for about half an hour. Things did not look optimistic.

Five minutes later, a hole suddenly opened in the fog right over the airport, and our plane came down at once.

My fiance's jaw dropped at the sight of that little, bus-sized, prop-driven plane, and she said, "You've got to be kidding! We're flying on THAT??" Actually, as it turned out, the flight was a lot of fun. There were only about a dozen of us on that 40-seat De Havilland turboprop. It flew low, and the wings were above the fuselage, so we got a spectacular view of the snow-covered Cascades coming down. Even better was the complementary champagne the lone flight attendant gave us all since it was Christmas Day. About halfway through the 45-minute flight to Portland we were all singing Christmas songs together.

My fiance's first visit to Oregon was interesting, if a bit enigmatic. Since her high school homestay had gotten her accustomed to the Californian mentality, she found the earthiness of the Oregonians (i.e. less fashionable, simpler tastes, less sociable but more up front...to quote her) a bit hard to take. There was also the lack of department stores and high-class night clubs on the Oregon Coast (which didn't bother me at all but was a bit disappointing to her). Still, she had a much better time than she cared to admit...even though it snowed when we finally made it to Portland and froze on our departure day.

That presented another problem. Not only were the streets of Portland covered with black ice on our departure day, but the fuel pump on Vulgarius's car suddenly decided to quit on him halfway to the airport. We stood nervously in the parking lot of a little grocery store on NE 82nd (with Chinese characters on the windows and combat knives for sale under the counter) while I desperately tried to phone for a taxi on the pay phone. I finally got one with only forty minutes left to go before our flight's departure. The driver, as it turned out, was a musician (keyboardist/saxophonist, as I mainly tend to be). We had a very good chat while he zipped around on various back roads and got us to the airport with about ten minutes to spare. (The fare was $15, but he charged me $12. I paid him $20.)

We got back to Japan to find my fiance's mother waiting for us. My fiance said, "What an amazing coincidence! We both came in on the same flight!" My (as yet unknowing) future mom-in-law then happily gave me a ride to my fiance's apartment, where I said I would call for a friend to pick me up. (Actually, my car was hidden nearby. Since she was waiting there to keep tabs on me, I phoned one of my fellow ex-pat friends and left a bizarre message on his answering machine. Rather freaked him out...) Then I waited for her to leave, got in my car, drove home, and slept for a day and a half.

As it turned out, my fiance's REAL former host mother had sent a letter while we were in Oregon. Her father had had his English teacher friend translate it, and they'd been pretty confused since it had made no mention of my fiance being there visiting. The English teacher figured out the truth and, to his credit, tried to cover for us. It didn't help. Her father grilled her for an explanation, she confessed, and he beat her up. After that, I went and apologized...and that's when I popped the question. He was pretty upset, to be sure, but both his wife and the English teacher friend got on his case, and he acquiesced. We got married the following year.

Merry Christmas, everyone, and I hope I get to see at least one or two of you while I'm over there from the 26th till the 30th.