The scene heard 'round the country

She leaned against her beat up Plymouth that was parked next to the shopping cart return, as her cigarette flipped up and down between her lips, as she yelled into and at her cell phone. "JIMMY, I told you I just cain't take another Christmas like last year!" She threw her head back and blew smoke into the air while simultaneously holding her arm straight out from her side holding the smoldering tobacco stick. Although I still had to step in Wal-Mart for a few items, my brief exposure to this scene quickly satisfied my daily drama quota. It's a scene that's become all too familiar during the annual month long  ingestion of commercial fare for others that's referred to as Christmas. What began as a long slow journey for the wise men to present gifts to the King of Kings, has devolved into a month long me first mercantile mosh pit culminating with a day after purging back at the trough of consumption on "return day."  As I approached the store doors, I heard her continue, "I just ain't got no money to buy nuthin' for nobody!" Did poor decisions put her there or has she found tall walls at every turn? I wondered, her words bounced around in my head like change in a dryer for several yule tide days.

Expectations kill, and this woman sensed the looming longing of her loved ones on Christmas morn' and she cringed from the pings of pain presented by what would surely be perceived as a lack of presents. Regrettably, this woman, like all of us, has something to give that's far superior than an end cap item at a store. Her time, her care, her touch, and her sincerity. The price paid to create a thoughtful hand made gift or baked goodie with love seems to be far too costly than many are willing to pay. It's far less risky to simply exchange some spending units for another item that will ultimately end up at the landfill.


Something to ponder upon.

We all stink

12.15.2009

Sorry. We just do. Those of you who've convinced yourselves that you don't, bear the distinct stench of arrogance. It's alright. Making mistakes is one of life's best teachers. My offspring are taught the three F's of mistakes. F- Fess up, by immediately accepting responsibility for your goof. F- Fix it or at least try your best to. F-Forward, move on with life but learn from what happened. It's funny watching and talking with folks who are terrified of making a mistake. Their language is peppered with cleverly placed excuses, disclaimers, and defensive posturing designed to hedge against any plausible accusation of imperfection. I'm not throwing rocks here, nor am I giving an easy out for those who make no effort to get things right, like weather forecasters. Don't make a habit of mistakes, but instead make a habit of taking responsibility, learn, and move on with your life. Genuine humility does wonders to cover our human scent.