A CHRISTMAS BLOG -THE CIRCLE OF LIFE

Wife Phyl and I are spending Christmas in Baltimore with her son Tad, Lindy and the three kids: Lucas, Landon, and Hayden, ages, 5 - 3 - and 1, respectively.

If old Bar was still partaking of the hard stuff  a fifth of Cutty would have been high on HIS Santa stocking stuffer list.

My septugenarian head has been spinning like that kid from "The Exorcist". What goes around - comes around.

They kids are cute, personable as all get out, talkative and active. The emphasis here is definitely on the word "Active".

We have witnessed more blocking at the knees, head-on collisions, and neck high tackles than took place in Sunday's Raven/Patriots game.

Despite what I have just written - the little guys are a total delight and remind me much of what it was like to have 4 tots of my own at this time of year.

They were all also running around in anticipation of the big fat guy in the red suit who, even then, had a real hangup about flying bell-ringing reindeer.

Being here is a little like riding a bike again. You quickly recognize the sound and tone of a kids cry as one that is caused by sleep deprivation and confirms the dire need of a good nap.

So, Bella and I went upstairs - closed the door - and took one.

Thursday is my scheduled flight to Pittsburgh, celebrating the holidays with those former tots I referenced above; three of whom have nine of my grandkids  between them.

Thankfully, none of the grandkids are still young enough to enjoy tackling or attempting to smother their siblings with couch pillows.

But, then again, I'm not confident enough to seek confirmation of my assumption.

Tad is half my age and is constantly down on the floor playing with the kids - practicing moves and rough play with them that I was sure I alone had invented.

Phyl and I have decided: "Being a spectator is good!" Neither of us has felt the slightest compunction to volunteer as a tag team wrestling participant.

I'm enjoying the kids, but am very content to leave Phyl behind in Baltimore,
baking from recipes more diversified than any that Betty Crocker ever thought of.

Of course, that was also back in the day when another Betty, named Furness, was on live TV struggling with those stubborn Westinghouse refrigerator doors.

Times are indeed different in 2013, but it's still nice to relive those old fashioned memories for this Christmas blog.

My attitude is: "Been there - done it and I'm more than thrilled to just sit, taste, and watch."

Phyl swears what Tad gave - he is now receiving.

In her words: "the circle of life has now completed itself."

THE AM-EX RIPOFF?

Christmas is a tough shopping time for grown up kids who are looking for birthday and Christmas gifts for parents who are in their senior years.

My parents were smokers so cigarettes or pipe tobacco was a fairly safe bet - at least early on. I needed to expand my horizons.

Unfortunately, by the time Mom reached her 50's she had pretty much cornered the market on Milk Glass - and I really didn't want to listen to her lectures about buying Dad any more Vodka. He obviously was running out of places to hide it.

I found that a good alternative was driving them to a nice restaurant for dinner post-holiday - something we all could enjoy.

When my kids ask, "What would you and Phyl like?  - I sort of draw a blank. God has been good to us - both with our kids - and our creature comforts.

This year we hung a sign over our closets proclaiming it to be :"Bealls Department Store - Sullivan Branch".

Nowadays, almost everything we wear - from head to toe - comes from our Bealls stores in Florida.The clothes are well made - designs ever changing - selections many - and all the goodies  - needed or not - are reasonably priced.

When we consider our "Beall Bucks" we receive based on prior purchases - their frequent sales - and weekly Tuesday Senior Days - I fully expect someday - after they bag our purchases - they will  put nothing on our charge - and instead, hand us an instant cash rebate.

My alternative gift idea for my kids  - who have no Bealls - is non-specific gift cards that they can choose to spend them wherever and whenever.

A tradition between me and my kids is to use gift cards of varying denominations as opposed to either of us purchasing for the other an item of gift clothing that even the guys over at the Moose would laugh at.

My gift cards are usually either for a great restaurant they might "pass" on due to family priorities, or instead, to as a means of furnishing them with some extra funds for something expensive they like but hesitate to buy. The gift cards can make up the difference and placate their conscience for wanting it.

One of my kids simply asks for a holiday gift card from Lowes each Christmas - as he's always building something.

While some in my family don't understand the logic - it works for us.

My side of the family has concluded gift cards are great - that is - unless they are Am-Ex gift cards, like the two for $25 one of the kids thoughtfully sent to me for my birthday. Couldn't use them!

Even though my kids paid cold cash (which is floating around in someone's business coffers)  - the checkout clerk either overlooked or possibly intentionally failed to clear the Am-Ex cards for future use - and, bottom line - the kids have no receipt to determine which of the hundred stores in their shopping area "did the deed".

"Ole Dad" was upset with both the store and Am-Ex when he found out what happened - but not in anyway upset at the kids.

It was a great idea - and could have easily been the incentive for me to try the top shelf wine at Geckos instead of the house brand. The fact I require neither is beside the point.

Let's be honest: "Who hangs on to all their family shopping receipts - particularly when our progeny have 14 kids of their own. That's one heckuva lot of receipts to store up.

Besides, the kids probably concluded : "The cards are from American Express - what could possibly go wrong?"

I simply reasoned all our kids would need much larger homes or go rent storage rooms (first month free) to retain all of their many receipts.

Despite my calls to Amex - and they were not dull - my attempts to reach  someone who had more than a  passing knowledge of English pronounciation  accompanied by slightly above average customer service skills - were all in vain.

Even following  my encouragement of the "supervisor" to set up a conference call  between Am-Ex , my kid and myself  (and which he also blew) - Am-Ex wouldn't bend.  

The attitude of the Am-Ex supervisor was :"No receipt? No replacement. No reimbursement!" I reluctantly gave up - deciding recovering fifty bucks isn't worth a stroke.

My "Senior Logic" tells me: Am-Ex sold the cards to the retailer for resale - making a profit.The retailer pocketed my kids $50  - also making a profit  - and my kids - the consumers - are out 50 bucks - simply because they don't hoard all of their store receipts and had confidence in "Big Blue".

Maybe on the next trip to Bealls I can purchase a suitable frame for my two bright and shiny American Express gift cards - that do not expire until 2023 - and hang it above my office computer - so I don't forget.

The fact I couldn't use the cards to buy yet one more Bealls sweatshirt and/or a pair of K-Swiss sneaks to add to my collection is a minor issue.

However, the fact that the money didn't go to one of my grandkids to purchase his or her own sweatshirt and sneaks - is not.

Thank You Am-Ex.

STEALING AGAIN/PLAYING CHICKEN,

It continues to scare me that friend Harry http://www.harry2335.blogspot.com and I share some of the same pet-peeves.

Harry's latest blog addressed the subject of "why" questions about football.

I enjoyed the blog but found one comment/question in particular which I "again" chose to steal and embellish:" Why do they (football players) jump around and make funny gestures after a good play or touchdown?"

My mind immediately went to Steelers receiver Emmanuel Sanders, although Harry's observation could apply (and may have been intended) to describe his defensive teammates as well when they finally make a tackle.

One disclaimer: When you watch your favorite football team lose games they surely would have won in seasons past, resulting in their current lousy win/loss record, it would take a mighty fine person not to give in to the temptation to make some player or coach a scapegoat.

I am not that mighty fine person.

My wife Phyl and I often watch the Steelers games - when possible at home - but, when not shown by Brighthouse - we will often gravitate to various local sports bars - if we think we can stomach the drunk fans from the opposite teams.

My wife - an ex-jock in high school who retained her youthful good looks - is also a good football watching partner. She understands the game and watches it with critical eyes - sometimes catching things I missed..

Last week she turned to me during a game and asked sardonically, "Why does Sanders get so excited and dance around if he makes what appears to be a fairly easy catch when he's also the guy who dropped two critical passes that cost them the ballgame?"

I couldn't hide my Irish attempt at humor and replied, "Perhaps it's just because he's so surprised to finally catch one."

She looked at me - rolled her eyes - and went back to viewing the game - or whatever you call it when it involves watching the Steelers this year.

Years ago, the Pittsburgh Pirates had a behemouth of a man, Willie Stargell, a bodacious home run hitter who smacked 48 one year.

Willie also owned a chicken restaurant in the Pittsburgh Hill District. The restaurant had a promotional tie to his home run production. For every homer Willie hit those customers in his restaurant at the time received free chicken.

I wish in this day when - on televised sports events - the networks can instantly display the most minute statistics about the athletes - including their bathroom habits -  they would find the time to add  a couple more.

When a receiver, like Sanders, does make a catch - could they show how much - according to his per game salary - he was paid to do just that  And, then announce that the player has graciously volunteered to donate that same amount to a local charity?

OK, that's not "chicken feed" - but, let's face it - that post-catch childish stuff  is pure "chicken s--t."

Missing Out

As you grow older do you have to stretch your imagination to try to recall what you really missed out on when you were young?

Let me help. Perhaps one thing you missed most - was just that - your imagination.

Caution: this is not one of those old days vs new days blogs.Each generation has gained something on the previous generation.

Take 78 rpm records vs the 33 1/3 albums. I loved my 78s but got tired of having to get up everytime a song ended and the record needed to be turned over. It also didn't do much to enhance pre-teen romance either. That clickety-clack could drive you nuts. The so-called LP's (long plays) were much more accomodating as I moved into my teen years.

There were other benefits to compensate for those short term music days. Actually, they were quite simple.

It seemed to me that some of my best memories are of being alone  - day dreaming out under a big tree of unknown species at the end of Atlantic Avenue school's softball field. In my secret - very own location - I would stare with varying degrees of concentration back at the school building rebuilt after the fire in "45" or "46".

Neither parent was informed as to where I was going.

I used to imagine that the new brick building configuration at the end of my glazed vew represented a steam engine pulling a coal car.  You can only guess at the great cloud pictures I could  - and did - make while lying on my back under my tree. It compensated for my inability to draw anything more advanced than stick figures in those old white tablets made of heavily distilled pulp..

There were few distractions other than the leaves blowing = perhaps some small birds singing- and the occasional butterly that dared to intrude on my revery

Occasionally the sound of  an organ playing softly at the Presbyterian Church at the end of the field and to the left would waft up into my sensory musings,  drifting in and out on a windy day.

I wasn't accomplishing much of anything back then. Just daydreaming and   slowly exercising my mind capacity.

Sometimes I had a blade of grass or a dandelion stem clenched within my teeth  - possibly imitating my Dad with his ever present pipe. I don't know. I don't care.

I wonder now if he ever removed it during those romantic soirees with my Mom on three total occasions which he insisted occurred during their marriage.

Sometimes, with no planning a forethought - as I daydreamed - and mused -a solution would pop ingto my head as I sub-consciously revisited one of those big pre-teen problems we all thought we had.

But, most of all my time was spent simply relaxing in the little world of my own I had formed.

Unlike the shacks I had built out of  large appliance boxes from Bestwick Electric I never invited anyone to join me under my tree.

 I suspect if  a friend had wandered by during one of my tree visits I would simply have stood up and suggested we do this or that instead of sitting. Didn't care to share.

My tree was a short distance from the alley at the rear of 120 Sumner Avenue, a e house with the white picket fence on 3 sides my grandfathers had built to protect the twos story house in which I  lived with Mom, Dad, and 2 brothers.

Upon revisiting the site while in my 50's it was amazing how much the yard had shrunk.

One late night Mom and I sat at the upstairs rear window with either Brother Jim or Tom (still a baby) while Dad was across the alley with the Forest Hills  Volunteer Fire Department attempting to put out the blaze of the old Atlantic Avenue school.

I wonder what I was thinking that night - other than remembering not to press any body parts up against the extremely hot glass .

 Perhaps my thoughts were of the two goldfish I had brought to Miss Huss's third grade class and left at her request - wondering if, while they were located on the side of the building opposite the fire, they had managed to survive.

My memory is of being thrilled when I learned they were safe - even though some other kid's "show and tell' pussy cat devoured them in one bite during a visit the following week.

Okay, I made that up.

Saccharin was starting to build up on my new computer keyboard.

Would it have been the same if some classmate had interrupted my thoughts with a cellphone call during my tree visit?

As I look back on those childhood days not really sure that I "missed out."

COULD SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME?

COULD SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME:

WHY BRUCE ARIENS WAS LET GO BY THE PITTSBURGH STEELERS?

WHY THE PIRATES WITH CLOSE TO RECORD ATTENDANCE
CONTINUE TO CLAIM THEY SIMPLY DO NOT HAVE THE MONEY TO COMPETE WITH THEIR OPPONENTS- INCLUDING SO-CALLED SMALL MARKET TEAMS -  WHO ARE ACTIVELY USING THE FREE AGENT MARKET - PARTICULARLY WHEN THE PIRATES 2013 LATE SEASON ACQUISITIONS ALMOST PUT THEM INTO THE WORLD SERIES?

WHY IS THE PIRATES FREE AGENT STRATEGY PAINFULLY REMINDFUL OF THE GUY WHO WAITS UNTIL LATE CHRISTMAS EVE TO BUY HIS WIFE AND KIDS PRESENTS AT MARK DOWN PRICES AND THEN COMPLAINS ABOUT THE CHOICES HE HAS?

WHY DOES THE FIRST GUY IN LINE AT A SHORT LIGHT WAIT AN INORDINATE AMOUNT OF TIME AND THEN INSIST ON STAYING THERE WHEN THAT LIGHT CHANGES?

WHY, AS WE GROW OLDER -  DEALING WITH ARTHRITIS, EYESIGHT PROBLEMS,  REDUCED FLEXIBILITY AND SUSPECT HAND STRENGTH  - DO WE FIND THE PRODUCTS WE MUST PURCHASE  DUE TO THESE AND SIMILAR AILMENTS ARE WRAPPED IN A WAY THAT WOULD PUZZLE THE GUY WHO CAME UP WITH THE RUBIC CUBE - REQUIRE THE USE OF A BLOWTORCH - PNEUMATIC DRILL - AND THE STRENGTH OF A CHARLES ATLAS STRENGTH SCHOOL GRADUATE - (WITH OR WITHOUT THE SAND IN THE FACE AND WHILE EMPLOYING ONLY 50% OF HIS DYNAMIC TENSION ABILITY ) IN ORDER TO SUCCESSFULLY OPEN THESE SAME PRODUCTS?

ARE THERE REALLY THAT MANY PEOPLE IN STORES WHO ARE INTENT ON STEALING ONE BATTERY OUT OF A 12 PACK OF TRIPLE A  BATTERIES? WOULDN'T IT MAKE MORE SENSE THEY'D SIMPLY POCKET THE WHOLE PACK?

DO WE REALLY NEED TO PROTECT THE BATTERY/CD/BALLPOINT PENS  CONTENTS WITH A SHRINK WRAP THAT COULD POSSIBLY HAVE SAVED THE LIVES OF FALLEN ASTRONAUTS AND ENABLED SUPERMAN TO AVOID THE CRIPPLING EFFECTS OF CRYPTONITE?

WHY DO SO MANY STEELER FANS STILL BELIEVE THERE IS A CORRELATION BETWEEN THE  BONEHEAD DECISIONS THAT STEELER COACH MIKE TOMLIN MAKES AND THE COLOR OF HIS SKIN?

WHY CAN'T THEY RECALL THE NUMBER OF SUPER BOWLS HE TOOK HIS TEAM TOO?

WHY DO SO MANY PEOPLE OF COLOR TRULY BELIEVE THAT THE CRITICISM HEAPED ON PRESIDENT OBAMA IN RECOGNITION OF SOME DOOZY FOULUPS IN HIS ADMINISTRATION ARE STRICTLY BASED ON HIS SKIN COLOR?

WHY DO THESE SAME FOLKS REFERENCED IN THE LAST PARAGRAPH  NOT RECOGNIZE -  THAT IT WOULD BE MORE LOGICAL TO CONCLUDE THEY ARE THE TRUE RACISTS - ARE KEEPING RACIAL BIAS ALIVE EVERY BIT AS MUCH AS THE TOMLIN CRITICS - BUT STILL INSIST ON  BEING MYSTIFIED ABOUT WHAT THEY SEE AS INCREASING RACIAL BIAS?

WHY IT IS SO DIFFICULT FOR PEOPLE TO SIMPLY ADMIT "I WAS (AM) WRONG". WHAT DASTARDLY FATE ARE THEY SO SURE WILL BEFALL THEM IF THEY DO SO?

WHY WOULD AN OVERSIZED DOLPHINS FAN PLACE HIMSELF DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF THE ONLY TV SHOWING THE STEELER/DOLPHIN GAME BUT SPEND MOST OF HIS TIME LOUDLY COMPLAINING TO THE GUY SEATED NEXT TO HIM ABOUT HIS CELL PHONE'S POOR RECEPTION VS THE ONE HIS WIFE OWNS?

WHY WON'T THE FLORIDA AUTO DEALERS CONSIDER  MAKING THE PURCHASE OF TURN SIGNALS AN OPTION WITH AN APPROPRIATE PRICE REBATE?

WHO - IN THE NAME OF GOD - IS ACTUALLY USING THEM AND WHEN IF EVER ARE THEY STOPPED BY THE FLORIDA POLICE IN A STATE WHO CLAIMS THEY ARE ALLEGEDLY CASH POOR?

IS IT DIFFICULT FOR OUT OF STATE DRIVERS TO RELEARN THE PURPOSE OF TURN SIGNALS ONCE THEY RETURN TO THEIR STATE OF RESIDENCE - WHERE - WHO KNOWS- THEY MAY WELL ENFORCE THEIR OWN TURN SIGNAL LAWS?

WHY DO YOUNG DRIVERS NOT REALIZE THAT WHEN THE DISTANCE BETWEEN THEIR SLOW MOVING  CAR APPROACHING A LIGHT AND THE ONE IN FRONT OF THEM IS ABOUT AN EIGHTH OF A MILE THAT SOMEONE MIGHT REASONABLY DEDUCE THEY ARE TEXTING WHILE DRIVING? (SAW IT AGAIN TODAY)

WHY IS THE PRICE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A HALF-GALLON OF MILK AND A GALLON OF MILK (DOUBLE THE SIZE) SO SMALL - AND THE PRICE OF DECENT TASTING CHEESE SO HIGH?

WHY DO RESTAURANTS WHO CONTINUE TO RAISE THE PRICES OF THEIR TAKE OUT NOT ASK - WHEN THE ORDER IS CALLED IN- "WILL YOU NEED PLASTICWARE OR CONDIMENTS WITH THAT ORDER?"

(I'VE GOT THE NAME OF A MISSION IN AFRICA WHO WOULD LOVE TO HAVE EITHER OR BOTH - AND HAVE NEVER TASTED MILK)

ARE THERE REALLY THAT MANY PEOPLE WHO EAT THEIR BOSTON MARKET TAKEOUT WITH PLASTIC UTENSILS WHILE SEATED IN THEIR COOPERS?

WHY DO THE BASEBALL/SOCCER/FOOTBALL COACHES IN THEIR HUGE OVERSIZE VANS USE THE DRIVE-IN FOR THE PURPOSE OF ORDERING FOOD FOR THEIR TEAM, THE LOSING TEAM AND THE LEAGUE OFFICIALS - AND THEN GO BACK AND LECTURE THEIR GRADE SCHOOL AND INTERMEDIATE PLAYERS ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF ORGANIZATION AND COURTESY?

WHY CAN'T PEOPLE FIGURE OUT THE TWO ORDERING LANES AT MACDONALDS?

WHY DO THE MOTORISTS DOWN HERE TRULY BELIEVE THAT WHEN TURNING ON RED IT IS THEY WHO HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY OF ALL TURNING TRAFFIC - INCLUDING THOSE WHO DO HAVE A GREEN LIGHT?

WHY AM I BOTHERING TO ASK THESE QUESTIONS WHEN IT WON'T CHANGE A @#$%^ THING?

WHY THE BIG PRINT?

SO I CAN READ  IT.