… Regardless of where your life’s road has led you, hopefully Christmas has plenty of warm fuzzies for you … growing up as a child … as an adult perhaps with a family, maybe not. There are very few “Teflon lives” in this world. Most of our lives are not all peppermint and sugar plums… Life throws us all some “chin music” – high and tight. … Team Swagger is sending you some of our special Christmas memories. … and never forget – Bumbles Bounce!
Sports crap will happen over the next 3-4 days. If it’s really important “sports crap” we’ll notify the Platinum Pals. If you’re not a Platinum Pal, maybe you know one and he/she will share with you. The Pale Rider and Semper Fi will make some decisions. Ol’ Roy, Sidney and K will coach a few games. “Crash” Nifong will do/say something very foolish. The Shineolas will squat and squawk hoping some tumult will finally end these recent frustrating weeks of tranquility and harmony (like “sunshine and garlic” to a vampire).
BobLee will be vigilant. Probably Tuesday, we’ll crank up our generator and invade your compu-live again. If, in the meantime, ya just gotta know what BLS thinks about something, send up an e-flare and our 24/7 lookouts will see it.
We are pleased to share with you here three pieces of Swagger Christmas. In my “old days” these were all printed somewhere every Christmas. Our local paper … read over the radio … the regional TV folks made sure we heard them … but not any more. ….. The people who control our mainstream media today have decided some or all of these pieces are apparently “not good for us”. I disagree. I think each of these is “VERY good for us”. “The people” who control our mainstream media do not control this website
Our “Daily Free Press” published “Yes, Virgina …” EVERY year on Christmas Eve. I would read this about 6 PM. Later on the 11 o’clock news the Weatherman on Channel 9 would announce that NORAD was reporting a strange object flying South out of the Arctic Circle crossing the DEW line. That was the OFFICIAL signal to get in bed.
Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus
By Francis P. Church, first published in The New York Sun in 1897. [See The People’s Almanac, pp. 1358–9.]
We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:
I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, “If you see it in The Sun, it’s so.”
Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?
Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.
No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.
The Story of The First Christmas
King James Version
(note: Back in BobLee & The Mizzus’ civic involvement period, BLS was a Pastors Assistant and Mizzus was into all sorts of church stuff. One Christmas in about Kid’s 4th year, Mizzus decided our congregation should hear “The Christmas Story” from The King James Version, with words like “lineage”and “swaddling” and so she got permission to read it aloud. …. It made such an impact on so many (“had not heard that in years”) that she did it each year, until we moved on. Don’t know who, if anyone does it now.)
Book of Luke: Chapter 2:1-20
1: And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed.
2: (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.)
3: And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city.
4: And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:)
5: To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.
6: And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.
7: And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.
8: And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
9: 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.
10: And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
11: For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
12: And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
13: And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,
14: Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.
15: And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.
16: And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.
17: And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.
18: And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds.
19: But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.
20: And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.
As a little BobLee, each Christmas I would get out Dad’s old Underwood manual typewriter, sit at his desk, and type “Twas The Night Before Christmas”. No reason and I didn’t do anything with it. Just started doing it around age 10 and would do it every year. No one really knew I did it, but me … and now you.
Twas The Night Before Christmas
(A Visit From St Nicholas)
By Clement Moore
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”
Clement Clarke Moore (1779 – 1863) wrote the poem Twas the night before Christmas also called “A Visit from St. Nicholas” in 1822. It is now the tradition in many American families to read the poem every Christmas Eve. The poem Twas the night before Christmas has redefined our image of Christmas and Santa Claus.
Prior to the creation of the story of Twas the night before Christmas St. Nicholas, the patron saint of children, had never been associated with a sleigh or reindeers! The author of the poem Twas the night before Christmas was a reticent man and it is believed that a family friend, Miss H. Butler, sent a copy of the poem to the New York Sentinel who published the poem.
The condition of publication was that the author of Twas the night before Christmas was to remain anonymous. The first publication date was 23rd December 1823 and it was an immediate success. It was not until 1844 that Clement Clarke Moore claimed ownership when the work was included in a book of his poetry.
Til Tuesday … have a Cool Yule Ya’ll … your loyalty and enjoyment of our silliness is a special gift to us all year-round. This website (over 1,000 columns!) exists for the enjoyment of two people … ME & YOU.
Merry Christmas (*)
BobLee, Mizzus and Kid (4.0 First Semester!!!)
(this will be Kid’s 19th Christmas … same house, same decorations, Christmas Tree in the same corner of the same “Great Room” … quite neat, huh!)
(*) … Happy Hanukkah, DERF