Saturday, December 22, 2007

It's Not Just a Cup of Coffee

A group of alumni, all highly established in their respective careers, got together for a visit with their old university professor.

The conversation soon turned to complaints about the endless stress of work and life in general.

Offering his guests coffee, the professor went into the kitchen and soon returned with a large pot of coffee and an eclectic assortment of cups: porcelain, plastic, glass, crystal - some plain, some expensive, some quite exquisite. Quietly he told them to help themselves to ome fresh coffee.

When each of his former students had a cup of coffee in hand the old professor quietly cleared his throat and began to patiently address the small gathering. "You may have noticed all of the nicer looking cups were taken up first, leaving behind the plainer and cheaper ones. While it is only natural for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is actually the source of much of your stress-related problems."

He continued. "Be assured that the cup itself adds no quality to the coffee. In fact, the cup merely disguises or dresses up what
we drink. What each of you really wanted was coffee, not a cup, but you instinctively went for the best cups. Then you began eyeing each other's cups. Now consider this: Life is coffee. Jobs, money, and position in society are merely cups.

"They are just tools to shape and contain Life, and the type of cup we have does not truly define nor change the quality of the Life we live. Often, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the coffee that God has provided us.

God brews the coffee, but he does not supply the cups. Enjoy your coffee!''

The happiest people don't have the best of everything, they just make the best of everything. So please remember:

Live simply. Love generously. Care Deeply. Speak Kindly. Leave the Rest to God. And remember - The richest person is not the one who has the most, but the one who needs the least.

Thursday, December 20, 2007


I mentioned in a previous post about donating my late husband's van to the Purple Heart Cars that I had a problem at the bank. I've written about it before, but I'll give you the short version as an introduction to the rest of my post.

A couple of weeks after he died, I went to the bank to close his account. This is a bank where we had a joint account and we each had personal accounts. We also got our mortgage through this bank three years earlier. We had had the joint account since shortly after the bank opened, so between the mortgage and our accounts, we were well established.

When I went in, I was told that I wasn't listed on his account as either an account holder or beneficiary so I couldn't close the account. I explained that I was his widow and could provide a certified copy of his death certificate and our marriage license. As for personal identification, I could provide just about anything they wanted, including being identified by various officers of the bank. Apparently, this wasn't enough. Florida law requires that only beneficiaries or account holders can do anything with bank accounts.

I explained that neither of us were advised of this law when our accounts were opened. His personal account was opened last and I was with him with it was opened and I know this was never mentioned. I would have made sure that he was listed as a beneficiary on my account at the same time. And he would have listed me as beneficiary on his. The end result was that I couldn't have access to the money in the account, and I couldn't close the account. There wasn't much money involved, only about one hundred dollars at the time, but that's not the real point. The point was we weren't told of this law and so didn't comply with it. I admittedly threw something of a hissy fit and walked out. I eventually closed my accounts and went to another bank. I have listed my brother as beneficiary on my accounts with the new bank.

Anyway. Shortly after that, the news began to report that the bank was having problems. Turned out they had loaned money to people on real estate speculation and the builder involved couldn't complete the buildings. This involved millions of dollars. The builder went bankrupt, the bank was sued by I don't remember how many people, the stock plummeted, and things just went downhill from there. The question was, would the bank survive, be closed down, or sold off? It was eventually sold. The stockholders lost lots of money, the bank people and the builder involved in the loan process were under investigation and there was lots of negative news for months.

This got me to thinking. Over the years, whenever someone has "done me wrong" bad things have happened. For a while, I thought it only involved jobs. When I went on job interviews and not hired, companies went under (another bank and real estate company), politicians lost by a landslide (I had interviewed for a job as a legislative assistant), and other companies suffered a reversal of fortune. One very big company (yes, if I told you who, you would know it) has not yet really recovered from the problems they had after I interviewed for a job and was told I was overqualified. Several people tried to stab me in the back at work - some succeeded, others didn't. Only one of them is still working with the agency today. Some have been fired, some retired under a cloud, and some have died. Some just retired. I was actually hired as an activities director at a retirement center. On my first day of work, I was advised that the man who hired me didn't have the authority to do so and I didn't have a job. They offered to pay me for a day's work, which I never got. Eventually the company went under and the retirement community was sold.

I swear, I did nothing to cause these problems for the people who "did me wrong" or didn't hire me, or hired me when they shouldn't have. I didn't curse them or cast the "evil eye" on them. This is because of one thing: treat people right or the karma will come back to bite you big time!
The Van Is Gone

As you may or may not know, my husband passed away last December. He didn't have much to leave, but among his personal possessions was a 1988 Dodge Caravan.

I had it re-registered into my name (much easier at the DMV than I anticipated after the fiasco at the bank), and then looked into donating it to a worthy cause. Well, the problem with the van is that it was old and needed work. I know the brakes were shot, and after sitting for so long, I know it needed a battery, a tune-up, an oil change, new tires, and God only knows what else. The body was rusting away. You know that any item that just sits unused deteriorates faster than if that item were being used. I didn't have the money to fix it to get it presentable for most charities. Most want vehicles that are relatively late model and in runnable condition. Well, this wasn't.

A friend thought her brother might want it. He was good with cars and if I sold it cheap enough, he could afford it. Shoot, I was willing to give it to him just to get it out of my parking space and before the condo association decided it was an eyesore and fined me for it. Unfortunately, he decided he didn't want it. Couldn't blame him; he would have put in a lot of time fixing it just to be drivable and he needed something he could drive now.

Then, one day I was either one the way to work, or coming home from work and heard an advertisement for Purple Heart Cars. This was the Purple Heart Veterans organization asking for vehicle donations. They accept vehicles in any condition, running or not. Here was my answer! I could get rid of the vehicle, give it to a worthy veterans organization, and even claim it on my taxes as a deduction. In my heart, giving it to an organization dedicated to helping veterans was more important than any deduction I might get

So last spring I contacted them via their website. The next day, I got a call from a tow company asking for directions to my house to get the van. The only problem was, I hadn't cleaned it out yet. It had a lot of personal possessions that I just hadn't gotten to cleaning out. And, I had put the registration somewhere "safe". Well, if your house is like mine, that could be anywhere! The upshot was that I told him I wasn't ready yet; had he called to make an appointment with me, I would have had everything in order. So, we put it off until I found the registration. And got it cleaned out, but he didn't need to know that part.

Summer came, and I just don't do much outside during the hot summer days. Finally, the weather cooled down enough to clean the van out. Some things stayed in the van; but most came in the house, went into my van, or were tossed into the trash. I found the registration (not where I thought it was, but it in the next place I looked). I even found the keys.

I contacted PHV again, filled out the form, and asked specifically that someone call before coming for the van. Because of my work rotation, I didn't know if they would come on my day off or a day I worked. I wanted to be home to sign over the registration and turn over the keys. That was over the weekend.

I came home from work on Monday and the van was gone. There was a paper stuck behind the Christmas wreath on my front door indicating that Purple Heart Vets had picked up the van. That was good. I wasn't upset that they got the van, I was miffed that they didn't call because I still had the registration and keys. Legally, I could have caused some problems by reporting the van stolen. But, that would have been wrong and would have come back to bite me in so many ways, that I never got past the first thought of it. But I did think of it :D

I sent another email, since it was after hours, to ask what they wanted to do about the registration and keys. That resulted in a phone call on Wednesday from the gentleman who took the van. He explained that he happened to be in the area and decided to see if he could just pick up the van. I explained that was not the problem, but I had specifically asked to be called first so I could be here to turn over the keys and registration.

He came to the house, I signed the registration over to the PHV and gave it to him along with the keys. He asked if I had even noticed it was gone. Huh? This was a big, rusting blue van that was taking up one of my parking spots and he wondered if I had noticed? I assured him I had as soon as I pulled up.

Anyway, it's gone. One more thing off my list.


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It covers:

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I'll let you know what I think once I've had a chance to check it out. Meanwhile, go grab yours while it's still free.

Christmas Cookie Recipe

1 cup of water
4 large eggs
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup nuts
1 cup of sugar
2 cups dried fruit
1 tsp salt
1 cup of brown sugar
lemon juice
1 bottle Bailey's Irish Cream-

Sample the Bailey's to check quality.

Take a large bowl, check the Bailey's again, to be sure it is of the highest quality, pour one level cup and drink.

Turn on the electric mixer...Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl.

Add one teaspoon of sugar...Beat again.

At this point it's best to make sure the Bailey's is still OK, try another cup.. just in case.

Turn off the mixer thingy.

Break 2 leggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.

Pick the frigging fruit off floor...

Mix on the turner.

If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers just pry it loose with a dewscriver

Sample the Bailey's to check for tonsisticity.

Next, sift two cups of salt, or something.... who giveshz a sheet.

Check the Bailey's.

Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.

Add one table.

Add a spoon of ar, or somefink.... whatever you can find.

Greash the oven.

Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over.

Don't forget to beat off the turner.

Finally, throw the bowl through the window.

Finish the bottle of Bailey's.

Make sure to put the stove in the dishwasher.
The Small, White Envelope

It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so...

It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas---oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it-overspending...the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma---the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.

As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford.

Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat.

Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them."

Mike loved kids - all kids-and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came.

That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me.

His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition---one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents. As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure.

The story doesn't end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more. Each of our children, unbeknown to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad.

The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope.

Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.

~Author DJ RAZOR~

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

The Cowboy and the Yuppie

An Alberta cowboy is overseeing his herd in a remote mountainous pasture when suddenly a brand-new BMW advances out of a dust cloud towards him. The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and YSL tie, leans out the window and asks the cowboy, "If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, will you give me a calf?"

The cowboy looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, "Sure, why not?"

The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his Cingular RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite navigation system to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo. The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany.

Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses a MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel Spreadsheet with email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response. Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet printer and finally turns to the cowboy and says, "You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves."

"That's right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves," says the Cowboy. He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on amused as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.

Then the cowboy says to the young man, "Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?"

The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, "Okay, why not?"

"You're a member of parliament for the Canadian Government", says the cowboy.

"Wow! That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you guess that?"

"No guessing required,"
answered the cowboy. "You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked. You tried to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you don't know a thing about cows ... this is a herd of sheep.

"Now give me back my dog."
A Different Christmas Poem

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
'What are you doing?' I asked without fear,
'Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!'

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts...
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said 'Its really all right.
I'm out here by choice, I'm here every night.
It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at Pearl on a day in December,'
Then he sighed, 'That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers.'
'My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam,
And now it is my turn, and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.'

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
'I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother...
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.'
'So go back inside,' he said, 'harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right.'
'But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
Give you money,' I asked, 'or prepare you a feast?'
'It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son.'
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
'Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.'

LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
30th Naval Construction Regiment
OIC, Logistics Cell One
Al Taqqadum, Iraq. gives more information on the origins and true author of this poem, Michael Marks.

2008 - The Year to Reclaim Our Christian Position

The following has been attributed to Paul Harvey and a gentleman named Samuel Thompson, but most of it is the work of a Wichita Falls Times Record News sportswriter named Nick Gholson. It's been around the Internet since 2004.

I won't use the photos attached to the email I received, but I will provide the text:

I don't believe in Santa Claus, but I'm not going to sue somebody for singing a Ho-Ho-Ho song in December. I don't agree with Darwin, but I didn't go out and hire a lawyer when my high school teacher taught his Theory of Evolution

Life, liberty or your pursuit of happiness will not be endangered because someone says a 30-second prayer before a football game.

So what's the big deal? It's not like somebody is up there reading the entire book of Acts. They're just talking to a God they believe in and asking him to grant safety to the players on the field and the fans going home from the game.

But it's a Christian prayer, some will argue.

Yes, and this is the United States of America, a country founded on Christian principles. According to our very own phone book, Christian churches outnumber all others better than 200-to-1. So what would you expect -- somebody chanting Hare Krishna?

If I went to a football game in Jerusalem, I would expect to hear a Jewish prayer.

If I went to a soccer game in Baghdad, I would expect to hear a Muslim prayer.

If I went to a ping pong match in China, I would expect to hear someone pray to Buddha.

And I wouldn't be offended.

It wouldn't bother me one bit.

When in Rome.

But what about the atheists? Is another argument.

What about them?

Nobody is asking them to be baptized. We're not going to pass the collection plate. Just humor us for 30 seconds. If that's asking too much, bring a Walkman or a pair of ear plugs. Go to the bathroom. Visit the concession stand. Call your lawyer!

Unfortunately, one or two will make that call. One or two will tell thousands what they can and cannot do. I don't think a short prayer at a football game is going to shake the world's foundations.

Christians are just sick and tired of turning the other cheek while our courts strip us of all our rights. Our parents and grandparents taught us to pray before eating; to pray before we go to sleep.

Our Bible tells us to pray without ceasing. Now a handful of people and their lawyers are telling us to cease praying.

God, help us.

And if that last sentence offends you, well ... just sue me.

The silent majority has been silent too long. It's time we let that one or two who scream loud enough to be heard that the vast majority don't care what they want. It is time the majority rules! It's time we tell them, you don't have to pray; you don't have to say the pledge of allegiance; you don't have to believe in God or attend services that honor Him. That is your right, and we will honor your right .. But by golly, you are no longer going to take our rights away. We are fighting back .. and we WILL WIN!

God bless us one and all. Especially those who denounce Him, God bless America, despite all her faults.

God bless our service men who are fighting to protect our right to pray and worship God.

2008 will be the year the silent majority is heard and we put God back as the foundation of our families and institutions...and our Military come home from all the wars.

Keep looking up.
Wish Me Christmas

I received an email from Dean and Nicole Dzurilla of They say....

Christmas is a celebration of life. It's a special time of year when families and friends gather from all over to rejoice the birth of Jesus Christ. This precious holiday has existed for countless generations and deserves to be called by its name. Saying "Happy Holidays" or "Have a nice holiday" is not the same as proclaiming "Merry Christmas".

The overwhelming majority of us will celebrate Christmas this year. Unfortunately a small number of disingenuous politicians, misinformed government workers, and special interest groups with loud voices are doing their best to homogenize the true meaning of this beloved day. We cannot let that happen.

I can't and won't disagree with anything they say. I don't know about you, but I'm tired of people saying that I can't honor my beliefs by saying Merry Christmas. Too many of us are willing to sit back and say, "it's just a saying", "it's not important", or "I don't want to offend anyone". How about not offending me? My words and my beliefs are being censored because Liberals are scared witless of offending someone. I've said that I pick my battles. Well, this is one of them. I don't have any special objections to using other terms like Happy Holidays or Season's Greetings, but please, don't tell me I CAN'T say Merry Christmas because it might offend someone.

However, if a Muslim or a Jew or atheist or anyone were to say to me, I don't believe in your God, could you please wish me a Happy Holiday (or other greeting) I would say, of course I will. That's just good manners. I don't want to deliberately offend anyone, but I'm not going to quit saying Merry Christmas because I might offend.

To help promote their idea they are offering free It's okay to wish me a Merry Christmas buttons. Go to their site and order one today. I did.

And then wear the button everywhere you go. I will.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Eat Drink and I'm Mary


Eating Tips for The Holidays

1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Christmas spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.

2. Drink as much eggnog as you can and quickly. You can't find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 10,000 calories in every sip? It's not as if you're going to turn into an 'eggnog-aholic' or something. It's a treat. Enjoy it!!!! Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas!

3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone! Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.

4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.

5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Christmas party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it. Hello???

6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.

7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you leave them behind, you're never going to see them again.

8. Same for pies. Apple, pumpkin and mincemeat - have a slice of each. Or, if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? Labor Day?

9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have some standards.

10. One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention.

Reread tips: Start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner.

Remember this motto to live by: 'Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body. But rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in hand, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming 'WOO-HOO what a ride!'

Monday, December 17, 2007

New Santa

I, (Santa) regret to inform you that, effective immediately, I will no longer serve Georgia, Florida, West Virginia, Virginia, North and South Carolina, Tennessee, Mississippi, Texas, Ohio, Louisiana or Alabama on Christmas Eve.

Due to the overwhelming current population of the earth, my contract was renegotiated by North American Fairies and Elves Local 209. As part of the new and better contract, I also get longer breaks for milk and cookies so keep that in mind.

However, I'm certain that your children will be in good hands with your local replacement, who happens to be my third cousin, Bubba Claus. His side of the family is from the South Pole. He shares my goal of delivering toys to all the good boys and girls; however, there are a few differences between us.
Differences such as:

1. There is no danger of the Grinch stealing your presents from Bubba Claus. He has a gun rack on his sleigh and a bumper sticker that reads: "These toys insured by Smith and Wesson."

2. Instead of milk and cookies, Bubba Claus prefers that children leave RC cola and pork rinds (or a moon pie) on the fireplace. And Bubba doesn't smoke a pipe. He dips a little snuff, so please have an empty spit can handy.

3. Bubba Claus' sleigh is pulled by floppy-eared, flyin' coon dogs instead of reindeer. I made the mistake of loaning him a couple of my reindeer one time, and Blitzen's head now overlooks Bubba's fireplace.

4. You won't hear "On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner, and Blitzen..." when Bubba Claus arrives. Instead, you'll hear, "On Earnhardt, on Andretti, on Elliott and Petty."

5. "Ho, Ho, Ho" has been replaced by "Yee Haw" And you also are likely to hear Bubba's elves respond, "I her'd dat."

6. As required by Southern highway laws, Bubba Claus' sleigh does have a Yosemite Sam safety triangle on the back with the words "Back Off."

7. The usual Christmas movie classics such as"Miracle on 34th Street" and "It's a Wonderful Life" will not be shown in your negotiated viewing area. Instead, you'll see "Boss Hogg Saves Christmas" and "Smokey and the Bandit IV" featuring Burt Reynolds as Bubba Claus and dozens of state patrol cars crashing into each other.

And Finally,

8. Bubba Claus doesn't wear a belt. If I were you, I'd make sure you, the wife, and the kids turn the other way when he bends over to put presents under the tree.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Silent Night

Let us sing together. Sing to yourself, your friend, your husband/wife, your dog, your cat, sing to anybody or anything. Know that someone else also out there is singing with you. You are not alone.

These are the USA/Central European times zones:

Eastern Time = 6:00pm Tuesday 25th December
Central Time = 5:00pm Tuesday 25th December
Mountain Time = 4:00pm Tuesday 25th December
Pacific Time = 3:00pm Tuesday 25th December
Alaska Time = 2:00pm Tuesday 25th December
Hawaii Time = 1:00pm Tuesday 25th December
Central European Time = 12:00am 26th December

Tell your family and friends abroad to sing with you.

The message I got said "We would make a helluva noise around the world." I say, Let's MAKE a helluva noise around the world!

Who's with me???