Old Lang Syne

On New Years Eve in 1983 I was on active duty in the Air Force, and that night I had guard duty from 2200 to 0000

For all you civilians, that from 10pm to midnight.

I was in training at the time, and part of the training was to learn about the importance of security by standing guard duty. Nothing every happens. Your not guarding anything of real importance, just the dormitory. There is a bigger picture, that is, learning to guard real assets by starting with the dormitory. You don't even get to carry a weapon yet, you just wear the web belt.

Dorm guard means checking everyone's ID card when they come in, and if a person is not on the authorized list of people authorized to come into the dorm, you must deny them access unless they have a pass from the CQ, or the Sergeant said it was OK to let them in..

Nobody comes in at night, so guard duty on night shift is boring. Much like being the Maytag repair man.

---

But the military is like that. Hours and hours of boredom, waiting for something to happen. And considering that war is the something that might happen, you hoped that everything remained boring. Nobody ever really dies of boredom. They die of war, however.

---

Guard duty in training was the beginning of a continual learning process that everything in the military needs to be secured. From basic training onward, you are continually learning to guard thing, secure things, and someone is occasionally monitoring your security.

I covered all this on a previous blog entry.

Regular readers of this blog will remember that was the blog page where I told the story about how Airman Brumble forced a Brigadier General to lay face down in the dirt. 

Security comes in various forms and various levels - Top Secret, Secret, Very Secret, Uber Secret, Classified, semi-classified, unclassified, and "between you, me and the lamp post."

And if it doesn't fit into any other category, there is the catch-all classification of "need to know." Basically, anything (and everything) is considered need to know, and if someone doesn't need to know you don't tell him anything.

And some of the oddest things get classified under the "Need to Know Doctrine." True story:

Once, during a routine check by security, I was quizzed on procedures and protocols, and one of the questions was who do I call in such-and-such event, and I answered Security Police (correct answer). I was then asked what the phone number was. I was suppose to remember that number, but even back then I had problems remembering numbers. But, seriously, even in the military, in the event of an emergency, dial 911

I told the man I couldn't remember the number, but it was in my pocket phone book, and I removed it from my pocket to show him. He asked to examine the "little black book" and after briefly going through it, he returned it to me that since I had (in addition to the phone numbers of every female I knew in San Antonio) military phone numbers inside, he informed me that my "little black book" was to be considered  a classified document - that is "need to know" information.

I knew some cuties in San Antonio, and I "needed to know" their numbers ;-)

But I digress 

2358 - I heard someone walking towards me. Airmen Jenson was coming to relieve me - he had duty from 0000 to 0200

That midnight to 2am

The clock hit Midnight. Elsewhere, at least in the Central Time Zone, people were yelling and tooting noisemakers and setting off fireworks. And maybe kissing that special someone.

Not in the dorm. Except for me and Jensen, everyone else was asleep.

"Happy New Years" I told him as he approached.

"Same to you" he replied.

Softly, Jensen began to sing. I joined in

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and old lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

Jensen looked at me and said "You are relieved" he told me.

"I stand relieved" I replied, then walked to my bunk to go to sleep.

I did not kiss Jensen. He wasn't that special.

The first Noel

The following is (loosely) based on the accounts as recorded in the second chapter of the Gospel of St. Luke:

Dramatis Personae
Jacob - head Shepherd
Nathan - Shepherd
Caleb - Apprentice Shepherd
"Eddie" - Angel of the Lord
Host of Angels - Choir and Musicians

Time: 1AD (around 2am)

Scene: A Shepherd camp in a pasture near Bethlehem (the one in Israel, not the one in Pennsylvania). Two shepherds are sitting around a fire.

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. [Luke 2:8]

NATHAN: Damn, it is cold.

CALEB: Yeah.

NATHAN: I need something to warm me up. Is there anymore wine left?

CALEB: Yeah.

NATHAN: Let me have some.

CALEB: We're suppose to be watching the sheep.

NATHAN: So?

CALEB: Jacob don't like us drinking when we're watching the sheep

NATHAN: Yeah? Well Jacob is sound asleep in the tent. He ain't going to know unless someone tells him.

CALEB: I ain't no snitch.

NATHAN: Then pass over that wine.

CALEB: I don't think we should be drinking. We need to be alert.

NATHAN: Alert for what?

CALEB: What if a wolf shows up?

NATHAN: There ain't no wolves around here.

CALEB: Or a coyote.

NATHAN: A coyote?

CALEB: Yeah.

NATHAN: There can't be coyotes around here. Coyotes are only found in the new world, and the new world won't be discovered for another 1500 years.

CALEB: Really?

NATHAN: Really. Now hand over the wine.

[Caleb removes a wineskin from the bag and hands it to Nathan, who takes a drink. He hands the wine back to Caleb, who starts to drink then suddenly stops and looks around.]
       
CALEB: What was that?

NATHAN: What was what?

CALEB: I heard a noise.

NATHAN: It was probably just the wind.

CALEB: Maybe.

[Caleb starts to take a drink, then stops again.]

CALEB: There! Did you here that?

NATHAN: Hear what?

CALEB: That noise. It might be a wild animal

NATHAN: I don't hear nothing.

CALEB: It's a bear! Can't you hear it?

NATHAN: That's not a bear. That's Jacob snoring.

CALEB: It coming from out in the pasture. There is something out there.

NATHAN: There's nothing out there but sheep.

CALEB: There might be a wild animal...

NATHAN: Caleb, I'm telling you. There is nothing... Wait a minute.

CALEB: What?

NATHAN: I heard something.

CALEB: I told you!

NATHAN: It's coming this way.

CALEB: It's a wolf!

NATHAN: I told you, there are no wolves around here.

CALEB: It's a coyote!!!

NATHAN: It is not!

CALEB: Maybe it's a lion

NATHAN: Will you stop with the animals?

CALEB: It's coming into the camp!

[Nathan and Caleb stand up, both of them brandishing shepherd crooks.]

NATHAN: Halt!

CALEB: Who goes there?

And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. [Luke2 :9]

[Enter: ANGEL of the Lord]

ANGEL: Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

NATHAN: Who are you?

ANGEL: I am the angel of the Lord.  I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall...

NATHAN: Wait a minute. You're an angel?

ANGEL: Verily, I am.

NATHAN: Can you prove that? Do you have ID or something?

ANGEL: Well, no, but...

CALEB: Where are your wings?

ANGEL: My what?

CALEB: Wings. Angels have wings.

ANGEL: Actually they don't.

CALEB: They don't?

ANGEL: No.

CALEB: That's what they told us in Sabbath school.

ANGEL: They told you wrong.

NATHAN: So, if you are an angel, why are you here?

ANGEL: I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

NATHAN: Good tidings?

ANGEL: Good tidings indeed. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.

CALEB: Why is he talking like that?  

NATHAN: I don't know. Maybe that's how angel's talk.

ANGEL: And this shall be a sign unto you...

NATHAN: Wait a minute. I'm not saying you're lying, but how do we know you are telling the truth?

CALEB: Yeah.

NATHAN: Can you prove your an angel?

CALEB: Yeah. Prove it.

ANGEL: Prove it?

NATHAN: Yeah. Do something that shows us your legit.

CALEB: Yeah. Show us something angelic.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. [Luke 2:13-14]

CALEB: Holy @#$%!!!

NATHAN: Who are all these people?

ANGEL: This is the multitude of the heavenly host. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

NATHAN: Yeah? Well your multitude just scared the @#$% out of our sheep.

CALEB: They scared the @#$% out of me!

NATHAN: It will takes us all night to round them all up

CALEB: They're everywhere.

JACOB: [From inside the tent] What's going on out there???

CALEB: Now we're in trouble.

[Enter: JACOB]

JACOB: What's going on out here? [Looking at the ANGEL] Who is this man?

NATHAN: He says he is the angel of the Lord.

JACOB: Which lord?

NATHAN: THE Lord.

JACOB: You mean God?

NATHAN: Yeah.

JACOB: Why is he here?

NATHAN: He says he has a message

JACOB: From God?

NATHAN: I think so.

ANGEL: I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

JACOB: Why is he talking like that? 

NATHAN: I don't know 

CALEB: Maybe that's how angels talk.

ANGEL: For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

NATHAN: City of David? 

CALEB: Where's that? 

JACOB: He probably means Jerusalem.

ANGEL: Nay. I meaneth Bethlehem.

CALEB: Bethlehem?? 

NATHAN: The Messiah is in Bethlehem?

JACOB: Why is the Messiah in Bethlehem?

ANGEL: It was prophesized in in the book of Micah: "But thou, Bethlehem, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is the ruler in Israel, whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting." [Micah 5:2]

NATHAN: Little is a good description of Bethlehem. 

CALEB: They don't get littlier than that.

[JACOB looks around]

JACOB:  Hey! Wait a minute. Where are all the sheep?

NATHAN: They ran off.

JACOB: What??

CALEB: It wasn't our fault Jake.

NATHAN: It was his fault

JACOB: Who's fault?

NATHAN: His. The angel of the Lord. While he was telling us about the Messiah and the city of David, a bunch of those angel fellows showed up and started singing and playing music...

CALEB: There were a lot of them.

NATHAN: ..and it scared the @#$% out of the sheep...

CALEB: It scared the @#$% out of me

NATHAN: ...and the sheep scattered.

JACOB: OK, let me get this straight. This guy shows up, says he's an angel, then more angels showed up and scared the sheep?

NATHAN: That's right

CALEB: It's true!

[JACOB turns and glares at the angel]

JACOB: Look, uh... What is your name?

ANGEL: I am the angel of the Lord.

JACOB: Do you have a real name?

ANGEL: It's Eddie.

NATHAN: Eddie?? 

CALEB: What kind of name for an angel is that?

JACOB: Look, Eddie. You can't just come in and scare off my flock.

ANGEL: I bring you good tidings of great joy...

JABOB: Yeah, yeah. So you are the angel of the Lord?

ANGEL: Verily.

JACOB: Show me an I.D.

ANGEL: I.D.?

NATHAN: We asked him that.

CALEB: He ain't got ID.

JACOB: Well, I need something to prove your really an angel of the Lord.

CALEB: Uh-oh.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

JACOB: Holy @#$%!!!

NATHAN: That's what I said.

JACOB: No wonder the sheep ran off. That must have scared the @#$% out of them.

CALEB: It scared the @#$% out of me!

NATHAN: What do you think, Jake? Is he legit?

JACOB: He might be. That was a pretty good trick.

CALEB: Maybe we should go check it out, just to see if it's true or not.

JACOB: Good Idea. Hey, Eddie, how do we find the Messiah?

ANGEL: And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

JACOB: Babe?

NATHAN: Swaddling clothes?

CALEB: What are swaddling clothes?

NATHAN: Diapers.

JACOB: The messiah is a baby?

ANGEL: Verily.

CALEB: What does "verily" mean? 

NATHAN: It means "true."

JACOB: How is a baby suppose to help?

NATHAN: He is a baby.

CALEB: In swaddling clothes.

JACOB: How can a baby do anything.

ANGEL: He will increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man.

NATHAN: And then he will save us rom the Romans?

ANGEL: The Savior is not her to help you against the Romans.

JACOB: Then why is he here?

ANGEL: To save mankind from sin.

JACOB: [Contemplating] Well, I suppose that is important too.

NATHAN: What about it, Jake. Do you think its true?

JACOB: Well, it seems a bit odd. Especially the babe in a manger part.

CALEB: In swaddling clothes.

JACOB: But Eddie here seems to be telling the truth.

NATHAN: Maybe we should go to Bethlehem, and see for ourselves.

JACOB: Good idea. So Eddie, you're sure the Messiah is in Bethlehem? Not Jerusalem?

ANGEL: Bethlehem.

JOSIAH: Well, come on then, let's go into Bethlehem and find the Messiah so we can adore him.

CALEB: Adore him?

NATHAN: He means go check him out.

ANGEL: I Shall leadeth the way

JACOB: Not so fast. You're not going anywhere. You and your angel buddies are going to round up all the sheep that you scattered. And no music!

NATHAN: It scares the @#$% out of the sheep.

CALEB: It scares the @#$% out of me.

ANGEL: But...

JACOB: No buts! You're the reason the sheep scattered, so you can round them up while we go to Bethlehem.

ANGEL: But...

JACOB: Look, pal. Don't make me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry. Now start collecting sheep!

ANGEL: Yes, sir.

JACOB: OK, let's go.

CALEB: Hey, Jake. If this really is the Messiah, we should bring him a present.

JACOB: Good idea.

NATHAN: Where do we get presents at this time of night?

JACOB: There's a convenience store on the main street thats open 24 hours.

NATHAN: Convenience store? What kind of presents can you get there?

JACOB: They got disposable diapers.

NATHAN: Diapers? What kind of a gift is that?

JACOB: Well, the angel did say the Messiah was a baby.

NATHAN: Good point.

JACOB: And they got cigars

CALEB: For a baby?

JACOB: Not for a baby you schdimwit. For the father, uh... what's his name??

ANGEL: Joseph

JACOB: What about the mother? What can we get her?

CALEB: I know. Chocolate!

JACOB: Oh, yeah. If there is something women like, it's chocolate.

[Exit: Shepherds]

Cinco de Mayo 2015

May fifth is Cinco de Mayo, which is Spanish for "The Fifth of May." In addition to being a date on the calendar, it is also a holiday. Most people have heard of it, but relatively few Americans actually know what it about.

And, I discovered, neither do some Mexicans, and it is primarily their holiday.

A lot of people assume it is Mexico's Independence Day, and its not. That's in September. My dogs think it might have something to do with the invention of burritos - and they might be right.

Actually, it isn't

Macky Rae (my younger dog) looked it up online: About a 150 years ago, Mexican forces defeated a larger, better trained French forces. There is a longer, more detailed version on Wikipedia, but essentially it  to commemorate some well deserved ass kicking.

If you want more info, go read the article.

Over the years, it has taken on a different significance, and it has become more or less a Hispanic Cultural Pride Day. And it is also celebrated by non-Hispanics - because everyone likes a party, or in this case a fiesta.

My dogs celebrate Cinco de Mayo, and the reason they celebrate is twofold:

1. They're Hispanic. Or at least they think they are. They are half Chihuahua, so they think that makes them part Mexican.
2. There is food involved. Anything that involves eating ranks fairly high on their list.

Because of its large Hispanic population, Pasco WA (near to where I reside) has a Cinco de Mayo celebration, although it usually gets moved to Saturday. They still call it Cinco de Mayo, even though it was actually Dos de Mayo. There is usually a parade of some sort, followed by singing and dancing, food and drink, and other fiesta activities.



We live in West Richland, which is more or less the opposite side of the TriCities area from Pasco. There is not a large Hispanic presence here, although I have noticed a few Chihuahuas.

 There is, however, a Cinco de Mayo parade - of sorts.

Around noon-ish, there is the unofficial West Richland Cinco de Mayo Parade (and Taco Feed!). We, that is me and my dogs, head out from our place, walk up a block to the main road, then "parade" down - past the Car Wash, the Zip E Mart, Lorenzo's Restaurant, the mini-mall, etc, etc, until we reach The Taco Truck. We make our selections, then go down to the nearby park and /eat/ our selections.
Ok, the Pasco parade is more elaborate, be we like our version just fine.



Some people have an issue with Pasco, and the Hispanics, primarily over the non-English speaking people. And to some degree I agree with them, after all this is America and you should speak the official language of the country which is...

Actually, the United States doesn't have an official language.

When people deride Pasco's Hispanic community (and the not speaking of English), I remind them of a time, many years ago, when parts of Pasco were a bad, dangerous, part of town. It wasn't safe to walk the streets at night. Then the Hispanics moved, bringing their strong, catholic family values. That part of town became nicer, safer.

And their yards look nice.

And Viera's Bakery on the corner of 4th and Lewis is totally awesome - even my dogs thinks so.

Over the years, many of the stereotypes attributed to Hispanics (and other cultures) have been discarded in favor of a more enlightened view. On of the (almost) dicarded stereotypes was Speedy Gonzoles - and heaven forbid you don't know who he is.

For those who don't (¡Ay, caramba!), he is a loony toons character, The "Fastest Mouse in all of Mexico."

The Cartoon Network, about 15 years ago, decided to not show Speedy cartoons, as they might offended Hispanics.

What "offended" the Hispanics was having their mouse removed from the cartoon line-up.

As speedy doesn't do anything that might be considered offensive (culturally), Hispanics love him. The Hispanic-American rights organization League of United Latin American Citizens called Speedy a "cultural icon", and thousands of users registered their support of the character on the hispaniconline.com message boards. Fan campaigns to put Speedy back on the air resulted in the return of the animated shorts to Cartoon Network in 2002.

By profession, I am a cook and so over the years I have primarily worked to one degree or another in the food service industry. One of the places that I worked, whom I shall not mention by name but I will tell you that it was a seafood place that had lobsters. Red ones.

I also won't mention that they are managed by weasels, because it would be unfair. I didn't work at ALL of their restaurants (just one), but the one I did work at had weasels, and the district manager was rather furry as well.

I'm not saying they are the worst as weasels go, but there are above average, weaselistically speaking. 

But I digress.

I worked primarily evenings, and usually got off work around 10:30 or so. I often stopped in at the 24hr dinner across the street for a bite to eat before heading home. One night, one of my co-workers, Miguel, came in (for coffee, and to wait for his wife to get off work and come pick him up). He spotted me, and asked if he could join me (I said yes) and for almost an hour we had a rather pleasant conversation. We discovered that we were both descended from farm and working class people, we both agreed that an unnamed waitress was cute, that the managers were pendejos (Spanish for weasels), and we both thought that Luis (another co-worker) was completely insane. And a few other things. We talked until Gabriella (Mrs Miguel) arrived.

Now what was interesting about our conversation was the fact that Miguel spoke about as much English as I did Spanish, which wasn't much. I can order a beer and ask where the restrooms are, and a few odd phrases like "¿Por qué hay un puerco en el baño?" (Why is there a pig in the bathroom?)

So how did we manage to even talk, let alone have a detailed conversation? Because we wanted to, and were not going to allow something as trivial as a language barrier stop us. We gestured a lot, and drew pictures, but we managed to communicate.



Speaking of a language barrier (and crimson crustaceans) another co-worker was a Chinese man by the name of Wei-xing "Sam" Jong, who was from Canton (China). Sam was college educated, and was Majoring in language at the University of Canton. He spoke in addition to his native languages of Cantonese and Mandarin Chinese - six other languages, including English.

Spanish was not one of these six.

This proved comical, and frustrating, as "Sam" tried to communicate with the non-English speaking employees. He would try to employ a bi-lingual translator, but his English was not perfect, and his Asian accent made comprehension by Hispanics problematic.

Hell, I had trouble understanding him, and I speak English.

On evening, after the dinner rush ended, some of us cooks went outside for a smoke break.

Officially, we were taking out the trash. If you grabbed a bag of garbage when you were heading outside, it was a "trash run" and the store still owed you a 10-minute "smoke break" later.

So we were all out smoking, someone commented on "Sam's" trouble earlier that evening communicating with co-workers.

"Sam" he was asked. "when you were going to college, you knew you wanted to immigrate to the United States, right?"

"Yes" he answered.

"Then why didn't you take a year of Spanish before you came here????"



Macky Rae, my younger dog is learning to be bi-lingual. He is learning to speak pig Latin. We wants to be smarter than a pig.

Most of us do.

Some fail to achieve this.

On that note...


Before we start the parade , we, that is me and my dogs, would like to end this blog entry with a song. It's a popular Spanish song called Cielito Lindo. Some of you may know it, and if you want to sing along with us, please feel free to do so.

ME:
De la Sierra Morena,
Cielito lindo, vienen bajando
Un par de ojitos negros,
cielito lindo, de contraband

DOGS:
Ay, ay, ay, ay, Canta y no llores,
Porque cantando se alegran,
Cielito lindo, los corazones

ME:
Pajaro que abandona,
Cielito lindo, su primer nido,
Si lo encuentra ocupado,
Cielito lindo, bien merecido

DOGS:
Ay, ay, ay, ay,
   MACKY: Let go get tacos
   ME: Macky!
Porque cantando se alegran,
Cielito lindo, los corazones

ME:
Ese lunar que tienes,
Cielito lindo, junto a la boca,
No se lo des a nadie,
Cielito lindo que a mi me toca

DOGS:
Ay, ay, ay, ay,
   MACKY: It's time to go get tacos!
   ME: Macky, quit that!!
Porque cantando se alegran,
Cielito lindo, los corazones

ME:
Una flecha en el aire,
cietito lindo, lanzo Cupido,
si la tiro jugando,
cielito lindo, a mi me ha herido,

DOGS:
Ay, ay, ay, ay, we all want tacos!,
   ME: Hey!!!
Burritos and Nachos, Beans and Rice
Corn chips with lots of Salsa!

March Winds, April Showers, Easter, April Fools, and 4-20

There are a few holidays in April.

The most predominant, of course, is Easter

Easter for those of you who really don't know...

And if you really dont know, you really need to pay more attention to what's going on around you.

...Easter (sometimes referred to as Resurrection Sunday) is the celebration of Christ's death and subsequent resurrection, affirming that he was the son of God
.
Now, some of you may not believe in Christ. And I won't argue here whether he did or did not exist, or if he did whether he was or was not the Son of God, or whether there is or is not even a God.

But whether you believe or don't, whether Christ did or did not exist, he has had a profound effect on history, society, and the world in general - not just in a spiritual way but in a physical way as well. Let me explain:
A dear friend of mine, one Rev Heath, once told me this "Even if something is not real, if enough people believe that it is real, it will have real consequences."

(Yes, Diana. I was paying attention during our conversations).

So even if (for the sake of an argument) Christ was not real. billions of people (past and present) believe that he is. Therefore he has real consequences.

And for those who object to Christ's teachings, what did he say that was so wrong? Love your neighbor, do good, don't return evil, look both ways before crossing the street... No, wait. That was my mom.

But I digress

Love your neighbor and do good. Is this a bad thing? Really??? Personally, I think we need more of this type of philosophy to permeate our society.

What I do have a problem with at times is the actions of some (so called) Christians, and the things they do in the name of Christ.

I won't go into detail. I could do a whole blog entry of "bad Christians." I could do a weekly blog on this subject.

Many (many) Christians implement their faith in an unchristian-like manner, but that has been around since day one of Christianity Many of St. Paul's letter's addressed issues and contained admonishments to the new churches about improper Christian practices.
Basically, it can be summed up like this: Christ taught that we should love one another, for which he was killed. After thinking about it some, people decided that it was a good idea, and then for the past 2000 years have argued and fought over how to properly love one's neighbors.

(I didn't come up with the above thought - it was from the writer Douglas Adams (Hitchhiker's Trilogy, et.al.)

I'm glad God love is perfect. I was God, I would not be very inclined to save humanity.

But I digress, again.

I like Easter, as do my dogs.

Last Easter, they got up early early, in order to ambush the Easter Bunny.

Being dogs, they do not like rabbits or other small rodent-like creatures such as squirrels and chipmunks and such.

They didn't get him.

How did rabbits get associated with Easter? Or for that matter colored eggs? Or chocolate?

Or a traditional Baked Ham? Jesus was Jewish, so we know darn well that Baked Ham was not what they ate at the last supper!

I searched the bible and the only reference I found was in the old testament, which declares Rabbits un-kosher. And there were no references to coloring eggs or chocolate in connection to the resurrection (or any other aspect of Christianity). Mary Magdalene DID NOT ask a giant 6 foot rabbit (named Harvey) if he knew where they had taken Christ's body. There were no eggs laying around that particular Sunday morning (colored or otherwise). And the only reference to chocolate was in Paul's letter to the Midichlorians warning then "not to eat all the chocolate, lest your butts become enlarged."


Some Christians object to such "pagan" rituals associated with Easter. Some don't even like the name Easter (also of pagan origins). But these same people celebrate Christmas, which is actually of pagan origins. In fact, there are more paganisms in Christmas than all the other holy-days combined.

What??? you may be asking. Christmas pagan???

Christ was not born December 25th. No where in the bible does it give a date for his birth, and scholars say it was most likely not in the winter months.

but I am digressing yet again.

4-20.

This is a relatively new (historically speaking) holiday. It is not recognized, or even sanctioned by the government.

In fact, the sacrement of this holiday is illegal (except in Washington and Colorado)

Some years ago, 4-20  and Easter fell on the same day. Which was weird. On that particular evening, me and my friend Keith (the redneck) decided to go to the mini-casino for a couple of drinks and a few hand of Blackjack.

Regular readers may remember the story of Keith at the Indian casino. by this time however, Keith had (finally) learned that he ws not going to get rich at Blackjack, and only gambled moderatly.

The casino we went to was one we frequented on a regular basis. It was across the street (somewhat) from where I was working at the time, and I would often go there after work for a drink, or two. Keith would often join me there.

The casino was run by J.B. (we never new if this was his real name, or his initials), a man who was the most professional looking person I had ever seen. Suit and tie, stern demeanor, never smiled - the perfect casino floor boss. He wasn't intimidating, he just never smiled - until this night.

After a few drinks, and a few hands of Blackjack, we decided to call it a night and proceeded out to our cars (or in Keith's case, his truck). As we were leaving, we saw J.B. outside smoking a cigarette on his break. As we walked past, I wished him a Happy Easter, and received a polite "Thank you, you too," and Keith followed that with "And if you are so inclined, Happy Holidays" referring to 4-20.

J.B. paused for half a moment, then responded with "I am, and I will after I get off work."

The things you never suspected about people.

April Fools day.

I have managed to pull of a few good April Folls pranks. And the reason I managed to suceed was that I didn't pull them on the 1st of April - that would be too obvious.

As long as you say, or do, something with a striaght face, people are inclined to belive you no matter how outrageous it is.

The classic prank, on that me and my cohort still laugh at 30 years later was the Bill You Have A Child prank:

After High School, our friend (Bill) ran off to who knows where and didn't bother to call or write or nothing for almost a two years before finally contacting us.

We decide to get paybacks.

We prefaced the prank with "the seed." Both me and my cohort (Gene) mentioned (casually) in letters to Bill that we had seen Linda. We didn't say which Linda, which could have been one of three that he dated while he was here.

We also mentioned (casually) that she - Linda - was with her daughter.

We also mentioned that we mentioned him to "her" and that she eagerly asked for his address which we gave to "her." Later, in a phone call from him, he told me (and later told Gene) that he wished we hadn't given her the address because the baby could be his.

Which confirmed that he had "done" at least one of the three Lindas.

To this day we don't know which one.

Phase two: I wrote up a ficticous letter (from Linda) that he had a child, etc, etc, and even enclosed a photo of some small child (I got it with a picture frame I bought). I had another friend of the female persuasion, who had lovely, femenine handwritting, to write it out. We mailled it off...

..and waited.

Two days later, when Gene and I were returning from classes at the college, we ran into my mother at the mall, who informed me my friend Bill was trying to get ahold of me and wanted tme to call him back - and I could call collect.

Gene called me later and said his mom told him more or less the same thing.

We made him "stew" for two days before I finally returned his call. I acted casual, as if I didn't know what was up. Excitedly, he told me that Linda wrote him, the child was his, etc, etc.

You could hear the anxiety in his voice.

When he finished telling me everything, I told him I wondered if that had anything to do with the Attorney that was trying to contact me and Gene.

"What???" he exclaimed.

I could feel the sweat through the phone line.

I played him for a moment, then let him off the hook. He was so relived that it was all a joke, he forgot to call me a @#$%.

I received a letter from him a few days later. All it said was "You are an @#$%"

Gene was called a @#$%  personally by a phone call.

Bill Lowe, if you are out there, send me an email. Me and Gene (your @#$% friends) would love to hear how you are doing.

New Years Family Game Night: Bingo!

The other day, I decided to do some grocery shopping. Before I left, I asked my dogs if they wanted anything from the grocery store.

FREEDOM: Pick up some bacon.

 

ME: Anything else?

MACKY: More bacon.

ME: Anything else besides bacon?

SARAH: Pick up some scratch tickets.

I mentioned in a previous blog entry that me and my dogs play the lottery.

Coulrophobia and other

fears will be covered in

a future blog entry.

ME:P Which ones?

 

SARAH: Any of the $1 is OK, except Money Madness - they haven't been paying good for me.

 

ME: OK

 

SARAH: And no Clowning Around.

 

ME: Those not been paying good either?

 

SARAH: No, I just hate clowns.

According to Wikipedia:
The first recorded signs of a lottery are keno slips from the Chinese Han Dynasty between 205 and 187 BC. These lotteries are believed to have helped to finance major government projects like the Great Wall of China. From the Chinese "The Book of Songs" (2nd millennium BC.) comes a reference to a game of chance as "the drawing of wood", which in context appears to describe the drawing of lots. From the Celtic era, the Cornish words "teulel pren" translates into "to throw wood" and means "to draw lots". The Iliad of Homer refers to lots being placed into Agamemnon's helmet to determine who would fight Hector.

 

The first known European lotteries were held during the Roman Empire, mainly as an amusement at dinner parties. Each guest would receive a ticket, and prizes would often consist of fancy items such as dinnerware. Every ticket holder would be assured of winning something. This type of lottery, however, was no more than the distribution of gifts by wealthy noblemen during the Saturnalian revelries. The earliest records of a lottery offering tickets for sale is the lottery organized by Roman Emperor Augustus Caesar. The funds were for repairs in the City of Rome, and the winners were given prizes in the form of articles of unequal value.

Our dream of going to the Caribbean and becoming pirates is being delayed by our inability to pick the six numbers needed to win the state lottery.

Our dream of going to the
Caribbean and becoming
pirates is being delayed by
our inability to pick the six
numbers needed to win the
state lottery.

I mentioned in Lottery Tickets, Giant Redwoods, and Pirates that me and the dogs play the Lottery. We rarely win and when we do it isn't much. So far this year, we purchased $89 on tickets (including Sarah's scratchers) and won a total of $55 which means we are down $34.

So, if we don't expect to win, why do we play?

For the fantasy aspect.

Purchasing a lottery ticket allows us to fantasize about what we would do if we actually did win a big jackpot.

Our current plan is to by a RV and see the country, starting with the Redwoods in California. Or move to the Caribbean to become pirates. We haven't finalized out plans just yet.

So, you may ask, couldn't we still do that without wasting a dollar on a lottery ticket?

We could, but it wouldn't be the same without the possibility (however remote) of winning.  And the odds are significantly better if you buy a ticket.

 

Let me tell you a story:

There was a minister who presided over a poor but honest congregation in a small Midwestern town. The church building, originally erected in 1821 was in need of much repair, but (sadly) there just wasn't any money to make the repairs. So he prayed on it. And what he prayed for was for God to let him win the lottery, so he would have the money to make the badly needed repairs to the church. And he continued to pray on it week after week, and week after week, he did not win the lottery. Finally, in exasperation, he fell to his knees and cried out "Lord! Why do you not answer my prayers? I am not asking to win the money for myself, but for the church. Your church. "   There suddenly came a rumbling, thunderous, and a voice from above spoke: "My son, you must work with me. You have to buy a lottery ticket first."

 

A lot of people in my family play lottery. My Uncle Dave, however, doesn't. He is mistrustful of lotteries. According to him, the last time he "played" a lottery, he got sent to Vietnam.

For those of you who didn't understand, it was a reference to the military draft.

Neither does my cousin Clara. Being a Baptist, Clara disapproves of gambling.

And a lot of other "immoral" entertainments.

But she does play Bingo, (another lottery-type game).

So if gambling is OK to raise
money for the church, what
about other "immoral" forms
of entertainment?

Cousin Clara won't play cards (even for fun) but goes to "church" Bingo religiously (pun intended) every Wednesday night. Apparently gambling isn't immoral, as long as the church benefits. Although gambling is a sin according to Baptists (and a few other denominations), playing Bingo for money is allowed if it is sponsored by the church. Clara would condemn gambling (and other so called vices), but would proudly announce how much she won on Wednesday Night Bingo at the church. I guess as long as the church is the one profiting, its OK?

Jesus had a word for this, I think... What was it?  Oh, yeah: hypocrisy!

 

Roman soldiers gambled for Jesus' garment at the Crucifixion. Can you imagine how much it would be worth on eBay?  Lottery is mentioned in the Bible: And they crucified him, and parted his garments, casting lots: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, They parted my garments among them, and upon my vesture did they cast lots. (Matthew 27:35) Other reference to lots can be found in the bible. There is no reference to Bingo in the Bible. Chances are, Jesus would not have approved of church sponsored bingo. He was not pleased with money changers in the temple, so I doubt he would have tolerated Bingo.   And can you really envision Mary going to Bingo once a week?

 

 

 

Me and my dogs will be playing Bingo on New Years Eve.

A couple of years back, we stayed up until midnight New Years, eating dog treats and watching Time Square on TV. When midnight came, I blew a horn and said "Happy New Years!" The dogs watched at me as I sang Auld Lang Syne (They didn't know the words, so they couldn't sing along) and when I finished, Freedom, (my oldest dog) ask "Now what?"  

Sarah, my female, snorted and walked off, mumbling "I can't believe I stayed up for this."

After this, we took a different course. Instead of staying up until midnight, we only stay up until 9pm.

Why 9pm?

Because we live on the west coast, and we watch Time Square on an internet feed - Midnight there is 9pm here.

Hey, it's New Years somewhere. 

This way, we can go to bed at a reasonable hour, because we need to get up early in order to watch the Tournament of Roses Parade.

My dog's like parades.

 

Oh there ain't no bugs on me.
Oh there ain't no bugs on me.
There may be bugs
on some of you mugs.
But there ain't no bugs on me.

I mentioned in an previous blog that me and my Canines do family nights from time to time. In addition to movie night, we also have game night (which I will cover that in more depth in a future blog entry) and one of the games we play is Bingo.

 

Awhile back, I found a home Bingo game at a flea market. I thought the dogs might enjoy that. They like games. They don't like flea markets.

My dogs will not go to the flea market with me.  

They are suspicious of the term "flea" market. I have tried to assure them that they do not sell fleas there, but they don't want to risk being contaminated.

Being dogs, they just don't want fleas.

So I bought the game, and brought it home with me. Macky noticed the box in my hand and asked what it was. I told him it was a Bingo set. (I didn't tell him I bought it at the "flea" market - no point upsetting him.)

MACKY: Hey, I know Bingo!

ME: You do?

MACKY: Yeah!

He then stood up on his hind legs and started singing while doing a little dog dance.

MACKY: There was a farmer had a dog, And Bingo was his name-o. (clap)-(clap)-(clap)-(clap)-(clap) (clap)-(clap)-(clap)-(clap)-(clap) (clap)-(clap)-(clap)-(clap)-(clap) And Bingo was his name-o. And Bingo was his name-o.

If you are truly unfamiliar with Bingo
and how it is played, click here.)

Most of us at least know what Bingo is, and the basics of play. Many of us were exposed to it grade school, like in Mrs. Frothingslosh second grade class. I'm not sure what we were suppose to learn from playing Bingo, but we were obedient children and listened as she called out the numbers (B-7, G-55, I-22, etc.) until someone got five in a row and called out Bingo! (followed by grumbling from the rest of the class). After having his or her card checked by Mrs. Frothingslosh, he or she would receive a prize, usually a piece of cheap candy.

 

Typical Bingo Card

Bingo is a game of chance played with randomly drawn numbers which players match against numbers on their card(s). The matrices may be printed on paper, card stock or electronically represented and are referred to as cards. Many versions conclude the game when the first person achieves a specified pattern from the drawn numbers. The winner is usually required to call out the word "Bingo!", which alerts the other players and caller of a win.

 

In the Bingo halls, there is usually more to calling Bingo than just 5 in a row. Usually there are patterns with cutsie names like "lucky clover" and "the kite" and the first person to forn the prescribed pattern on his or her card wins.

 

Alternative methods of play try to increase participation by creating excitement. Since its invention in 1929, modern Bingo has evolved into multiple variations, with each jurisdiction's gambling laws regulating how the game is played. There are also nearly unlimited patterns that may be specified for play. Some games require only one number to be matched, while cover-all games award the jackpot for covering an entire card. There are even games that award prizes to players for matching no numbers or achieving no pattern.

 

 

The Friend

My first experience with Bingo occurred when a friend decided that we (myself and a few other friends) needed to Bingo...

We (myself and a few other friends) wanted to go drinking.

The friends was adamant about wanting to go Bingo (we never completely understood why). We were equally adamant about going drinking.

The compromise was that we would go drinking after Bingo. 

So we went to the local bingo hall.

The first thing you notice upon entering the Bingo hall is that the clientele is primarily elderly ladies, and rednecks. And elderly rednecks.

We paid our price of admission, and were give a stack of assorted Bingo cards (actually paper). We then went to the concession stand and  purchased drinks (non-alcoholic), munchies, and Bingo daubers (a necessity to play), and then found a spot at one of the tables and set up as best we could. We weren't exactly sure of how to play, but we were seated next to an elderly grandmother-type who was quite helpful and explained exactly what we needed to do during each of the games.
 

@#$%!!!

Basically, the game begins by the caller drawing and calling a number from the Bingo apparatus, and if you have that number on one of your cards, you daub it with your dauber. This continues at a medium pace until someone gets a Bingo - and you know that game is over when someone yells BINGO! which is followed by @#$%!!! from 2-3 dozen elderly ladies.

I kid you not. These elderly matrons, who no doubt were baking cookies that afternoon were swearing like sailors. Worse, like rappers. I was shocked by there language, and I was in the miliary! There lady who was sitting across from me, who looked as old as yoda, dropped an F-bomb that reverberated in the Bingo hall and lingered in the air for several minutes. 

I kid you not. When I recovered from the shock of granny's expletive, I asked her "Do you kiss your grandchildren with that mouth?"

These old ladies are ruthless. They do not like to lose.

I used to drive by the Bingo hall and see the rent-a-cop walking in front, and I always thought he was there to keep the place from being robbed. Now I realize he's there to make sure the winners make it to their cars without getting beat-up by the losers.

We played through the series of games, after which we proceeded out of the Bingo hall in order to go drinking.

And, in case you are wondering, I won $200 that night.

And the nice rent-a-cop escorted me, and my winnings, to my car after Lady F-Bomb threatened to beat the @#$% out of me.

Angry Seniors at Bingo Night.

Bingo is good recreation for elderly rednecks, or the elderly in general. Many of them are afflicted with arthritis or rheumatism, but despite their shriveled hands they can still play, because the Bingo dauber is designed to fit right into their gnarled, curled fingers.
 

And you wouldn't know that they had arthritis the way they play Bingo. There was one old lady I saw who came into the Bingo hall very slowly, using a walker. She bought quite a bit of extra tickets, about a dozen, and had them laid out in front of her. And for being a slow and arthritic, that grandma had no problem keeping pace with the caller. Her little wrinkled arm became a blur as she stamped all of her cards.

I was having a problem with the three I had. 

My dogs enjoy playing Bingo. The first evening we set up in the living room on the coffee table. Each of the dogs got a card and a ink pad. We had to make an adaption to accommodate the dogs: There was a plethora of small, plastic chips (about the size of dimes) that were to be used to cover the numbers on the cards. However, lacking opposable thumbs, the dogs were not able to utilize them as effectively as humans.   So what I did is went to the dollar store, and bought some ink pads (for a dollar.) Speaking of the dollar store, why does the dollar store have all those buttons on the cash register? Everything is a dollar, so the only need two buttons: One Dollar and Tax. Each of the dogs got an ink pad. When I called out a number (and if it was on their card) what they would do was put their paw on the ink pad, then stamp the number on the card with their paw print. Sort of a built in Bingo dauber. I was the caller. We played the simple version of Bingo (like in Mrs. Frothingslosh class) where all you had to do is get five in a row. The prize was a dog treat. The first dog to get 5 in a row got a treat... And unlike the grandmas, the others did not turn nasty when they lost. They enjoyed Bingo, especially stomping on the Bingo cards. They said we could do this again on another family night, especially if they could stomp the Bingo cards (they liked that part).   And when we were done, they got their paws cleaned off with a wet wipe.



Troll dolls were originally created in 1959 by Danish

fisherman and woodcutter Thomas Dam. Dam could not

afford a Christmas gift for his young daughter Lila and

carved the doll from his imagination. When other children

in the Danish town of Gjøl saw the troll doll, they wanted

one as well. Dam's company Dam Things began producing

the dolls in plastic under the name Good Luck Trolls. The

dolls became popular in several European countries during

the early 1960s, shortly before they were introduced in the

United States. They became one of the United States'

biggest toy fads from the autumn of 1963 through 1965.

One might assume from observation that good luck charms are as essential as Bingo daubers, but this is not the case. Good luck charms are not an essential for Bingo play, but they are (apparently) an essential part of the Bingo experience, judging from the plethora of talismans and amulets and other juju present at the player tables.

 

There were numerous rabbit foots, lucky clovers, and other pieces of luck. There was also a lot of small photos in frames, presumably family members (children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren) of the Bingo players. I saw assorted Beanie Bears

And Good Luck Trolls.

And I never noticed, until I went to Bingo, just how much some old ladies look like Good Luck Trolls. 

 

In the US, the game is primarily staged by churches or charity organizations. Their legality and stakes vary by state regulation. In some states, Bingo halls are rented out to sponsoring organizations, and such halls often run games almost every day. Church-run games, however, are normally weekly affairs held on the church premises. These games are usually played for modest stakes, although the final game of a session is frequently a coverall game that offers a larger jackpot prize for winning within a certain quantity of numbers called, and a progressive jackpot is one that may increase per session until it is won.

And someone yells Bingo!!!

And 2-3 dozen old ladies start swearing. 

 

There are some other variations to the basic (and advanced) form of bingo, some of which include:
 

Buzzword Bingo also known as bullshit bingo, is a bingo-style game where participants prepare bingo cards with buzzwords and tick them off when they are uttered during an event, such as a meeting or speech. The goal of the game is to tick off a predetermined number of words in a row and then yell "Bingo!" (or "Bullshit!").

I used to work at Wal*Mart, and I mentioned this game to a co-worker. A short time later, the general manager came around to our section of the story. She needed to "touch base" with everybody in order to "stay in the loop" and "etc." and "etc."

My co-worker began to giggle, then could not stop laughing, and eventually had to excuse herself under the excuse of "needing to powder her nose."

Cow Patty Bingo, also known as Cow Pie Bingo or Bovine Bingo, is a fundraising favorite at village fetes the world over.  An enclosed area in a field is marked off into a grid of squares. Each square is given a number. People buy a square. When enough of the squares are sold a cow or other farm animal is allowed onto the field. Spectators wait "with bated breath" until the cow splats. The owner of the square that receives the first dollop wins.

I did find an article where a person used

Puppy Poo Bingo to let his new dog

name himself.

FREEDOM: Do they have Dog Doo Bingo?

MACKY: Yeah! Me and Freedom could be callers!

SARAH: That is just gross.

ME: Yeah? Well how about this one: 

Roadkill Bingo is a game in which the pictures of 24 different animals are placed randomly in a grid, printed on paper or cardboard. The game is traditionally played in vehicles during long distance travel. When a dead specimen of one of these animals is spotted by a player, that square in the grid is marked off with either a Bingo blotter or some other writing instrument. Small poker like chips may be used to designate spotted dead animals, however the jarring due to bumps in the road make this a less viable option. Only the first person to spot the roadkill is entitled to mark off the corresponding picture. As in regular Bingo, the object of the game is to spot a sequence of five dead animals which are in the same row or column on the Bingo card, after which the person yells "Bingo!!!"

SARAH: That is wrong, on several levels.

 

So as I am writing this, my dogs are preparing for our New Years party. Macky Rae is currently in the kitchen microwaving some popcorn. Freedom is printing up Bingo cards. Last year, Macky Rae printed up the cards, and this did not work out so well. On the first game, all three dogs called Bingo! at the same time. Yes, he printed up several copies of the exact same Bingo card.  So this year (not that he would repeat the same mistake, but just to be safe) we assigned Macky Rae popcorn duty.  And we have our party spread on - meats, cheeses, and crackers from Hickory Farms (of Ohio). Sarah is preparing the platter. And (of course) dog treats. And I will make up a batch of my holiday eggnog. And at 9pm (12 midnight EST) we will count down... Five - Four - Three - Two -One - Bingo!!! ...sing Auld Lang Syne. I taught the dogs the words, so they will try to sing it with me this year.

MACKY: Hey, Dad. What is an Auld Lang Syne?

A good question.

MACKY: I know, that's why I asked it. 



Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and days of long ago?
                             
For days of long ago, my dear,
for days of long ago,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for days of long ago.

Auld Lang Syne is a Scots poem written by Robert Burns in 1788 and set to the tune of a traditional folk song. It is well known in many countries, especially in the English-speaking world, its traditional use being to bid farewell to the old year at the stroke of midnight. By extension, it is also sung at funerals, graduations and as a farewell or ending to other occasions. The song's title may be translated into English literally as "old long since", or more idiomatically, "long long ago", "days gone by" or "old times". Consequently "For auld lang syne", as it appears in the first line of the chorus, might be loosely translated as "for (the sake of) old times".

 

"Auld Lang Syne" is traditionally sung at the conclusion of New Year gatherings in Scotland and around the world, especially in English-speaking countries.

MACKY: What do they sing in non-English speaking countries?

I don't know. 

 

 

 

To friends, family, and loyal readers:

Have a Happy and Prosperous New Years

Christmas 2014: Waffles and Eggnog

One Christmas, when I was on the street, I received a gift bag full of assorted goodies from a charitable group of people. It included toiletries, candy, and a bag of microwave popcorn.

For be it for me to be ungrateful, but who gives microwave popcorn to homeless people?


Some years ago, I wrote a winter haiku:

Cold wind and gray sky
Snow that falls and turns to slush
Tri-Cities' half-ass winter

For those of you who live in the Tri-Cites (Washington) area, you understand this.

Carol of the Dogs

On the night of the 21st, around 6:30 or so. There was a knock on my door, and when I opened it, I discovered my dogs.

They were waffling, which has become a tradition in our household.

Regular readers of this blog are aware from a previous blog entry (The Bureau of Holiday Affairs) that that waffling is actually wassailing (or caroling). Macky Rae couldn't pronounce wassailing when he was younger.

This year instead of tinsel, wrapping paper, and lights, the dogs wore there Gay Pride shirts, gifts from our neighbors Alice and Gertrude last June for going to the Gay Pride parade.

Your dogs were at a Gay Pride day?

Now we don our gay apparel
fa-la-la fa-la-la la-la-la

Yes. They are very social conscious, and they went in support of their friend, Max (yes, a dog friend), who came out this spring.

So what does Gay Pride shirts have to do with waffling?

I had the same questions, and like I fool I asked.

SARAH: It's the only "gay apparel" that we own. 

The dogs serenaded me (and the neighbors) with there repertoire of holiday favorites. This year's selection was:

• Bark, the Herald Angels Sing
• Joy to the Squirrels (the dogs have come)
• God Rest Ye Merry, Gentledogs
• Good King Whats-His-Name (my dogs can't pronounce Wenceslaus, but neither can I)
• Oh, Christmas Tree  (being dogs, they like trees)
• Santa Paws is Coming to Town
• We Three Dogs (from West Richland are)
• and the always popular We Wish You a Merry Christmas

We Wish You a Merry Christmas is popular with my dogs, as it entails a treat ("now bring us some figgy pudding"). You may recall from last year - The Bureau of Holiday Affairs (Part 1) - we were unable to procure figgy pudding so we substitutes beef jerky.

This, also, has become a tradition.

This year, the "figgy pudding" verse was substituted with the following:

Now bring us some beefy jerky
Now bring us some beefy jerky
Now bring us some beefy jerky
And a cup of good cheer.

So after the singing, I invited the dogs in for "beefy jerky" and a "cup of good cheer".

The cup of good cheer was my homemade eggnog.

They consumed the Jerky, and several cups of good cheer eggnog, and promptly passed out.

And that's when Joi (the girlfriend) showed up.

I gave her a "Cup of Good Cheer" to warm her up.

JOI: Why are the dogs asleep?

ME: They're passed out from too much eggnog.

JOI: You gave the dogs eggnog???

It wasn't the eggnog that worried her, it was the liberal amount of rum I traditionally put into my homemade eggnog. 

ME: Relax. They didn't get any rum in theirs.

JOI: Then why are they passed out?

ME: They think they got rum in their eggnog.

The power of suggestion.

Wassail, Wassail, all over the town.

  

Instead of sharing my recipe for Eggnog, let me share the recipe of our first president:

Party on, George! George Washington's Christmas Eggnog Here is a recipe from our first President, in the exact words they were written by George Washington himself. "One quart cream, one quart milk, one dozen tablespoons sugar, one pint brandy, 1/2 pint rye whiskey, 1/2 pint Jamaica rum, 1/4 pint sherry—mix liquor first, then separate yolks and whites of eggs, add sugar to beaten yolks, mix well. Add milk and cream, slowly beating. Beat whites of eggs until stiff and fold slowly into mixture. Let set in cool place for several days. Taste frequently."

Wassail (Old Norse "ves heil", Old English "was hál", literally 'be you healthy') refers both to the salute 'Waes Hail' and to the drink of wassail, a hot mulled cider traditionally drunk as an integral part of wassailing, a medieval southern English drinking ritual intended to ensure a good cider apple harvest the following year. The phrase found first use as a simple greeting, but the Danish-speaking inhabitants of England seem to have turned "was hail", and the reply "drink hail", into a drinking formula adopted widely by the indigenous population of England. How far the tradition of wassailing dates back is unknown, but it has connections with Anglo-Saxon and Danish traditions - thus wassailing likely predates the Norman conquest in 1066.

In recent times, the toast has come to be synonymous with Christmas, but since Christianity gradually replaced the indigenous Anglo-Saxon religion around the 7th and 8th centuries, there is no evidence that the traditional ceremony of wassailing is Christian in origin.

A Traditional Wassail Recipe Recipe makes 12 servings 2 quarts apple cider 2 cups orange juice 1/2 cup lemon juice 12 whole cloves 4 cinnamon sticks 1 pinch ground ginger 1 pinch ground nutmeg In a slow-cooker or a large pot over low heat, combine apple cider, orange juice and lemon juice. Season with cloves, ginger and nutmeg. Bring to a simmer. If using a slow cooker, allow to simmer all day. Serve hot.

We had a wonder Christmas time. Everyone (including dogs) met at Amy and Brian's for Christmas dinner (and the traditional pumpkin pie).

There was actually more canines at this dinner than humans.

We all had a good time.

And with that thought, I sign off.

To family, friends, and loyal readers of the Dancing with Dogs blog:

Yule and Noel, and a Happy New Year!

from my dogs: Freedom, Sarah, Macky Rae, and (our newest addition to the crew) Reba.