Santa's Not The Only One...

...flying experimental aircraft in the December skies. 

He and his team have lots of company lately - obviously drones - but no one in an official capacity is willing to say <what they are or who's responsible>.

White House Nat'l Insecurity non-Communications Dope John Kirby...

...speculates they're probably just kittens who've lost their mittens and can't tell where to find them.

Either that or traditional manned aircraft...you know, Cessna 152's that have somehow developed amazing flight maneuverability since the last time anyone checked.

In further enlightening palaver, Kirby mumbled...

"Why don't we know? I wish I could tell you exactly why we don't have an answer for you here in the afternoon on the 13th of December, but I can tell you that we are working on it very, very hard to know..." 

His voice trailed off as he slowly evaporated like an inconsequential mist under a noon time sun.

It's stunning to realize just how stupid these people really are.

Incredibly, they're even dumber than they think we are.

History is going to look back at this time frame in wonder that so many pointless idiots...

...managed to seize power, and all at the same time.

In less stressful news, I golfed in the snow for the first time:

Ok, it was just starting so maybe doesn't count, but it was actually snowing a little which was kinda fun.

Due to a stiff west wind, I over shot the first green...

...and definitely landed in the rough.

Made a dandy recovery shot with my lofting iron however, up the hill and back toward the green...

...and almost birdied the first hole.

The rest was about what I expect when I walk 9 on Ryan's course...

one putt for par

...only a lot colder.  Even so, a good time was had by all...er, me.

Can it be spring time now?

I touched on the subject of Christmas cards recently...

...which transported me back to my innocent youth, watching my mother work through a long list of typewritten names and addresses.

Each of these received a card with a handwritten note - in perfect cursive - of seasonal greetings.

Though happening during a festive season, she seemed far from happy with this Christmas task.

After sealing up yet another envelope and affixing a 5 cent stamp to her handiwork, I ventured a question.

"Do we know all these people?"

"Not really," she sighed, reaching for another card.

"They're business associates of your father."

"Does he know all of them?" I marveled.

"Go play now," she replied, dismissing me and my childish curiosity.

Based on my mom's attitude toward this clearly unpleasant task, as the years clicked on by I eventually decided Christmas cards, like fruitcakes...

...were one of those holiday land mines to be avoided at all costs.

This belief was reinforced by the occasional Christmas letter we received.

These usually arrived enclosed in a Christmas card - a kind of year end double whammy brag fest, enumerating in mind foggingly dull minutia the perfection achieved by the Farkenheimer's or Gallywagger's or Brunhoffers...

"...and Bif and Muffy were both accepted to Harvard at the same time Elwood was voted Grand High Poobah of the Polar Bear lodge and I won Secretary of the Year at the "Super Duper Diapers" Divisional Headquarters..."

And to think the only thing of note I did that year was master the art of making unpleasant noises by placing a hand in my armpit and flapping my wing like a chicken.

So given my understandable childhood bias, how is it I'm now sending out both Christmas cards and a letter to a handful of friends and acquaintances?

This is easily explained in one word.

And no, that word is not "retribution".

It's "attitude".

Far from an obligation, I now realize it's a serendipitous opportunity during a truly blessed time of year when we celebrate the birth of our Savior, to share heartfelt wishes for a Happy Christmas season and a prosperous new year.

And as far as the letter goes, at my age I've been slapped around by life enough to know I've got nothing to brag about.

As Paul wrote in I Corinthians 4:7:

"...what hast thou that thou didst not receive?  now if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not received it?" 

All we are, all we have, all we achieve in life are gifts from God; our attitude should reflect gratitude, not pride.

And truly, after all these years, what have I got to be proud about?

I can't even make those unpleasant noises with my armpit anymore.

(Ok admit it; you just tried, didn't you?)

Just another in a continuing series of humiliations visited on me by the scourge of advancing years.

And don't laugh, or I'll add you to my Christmas card list next year.

You've been warned.

Enough already!  I say we 23 Skidoo while we still have what's left of our wits about us.

Let's start with some comic strip wisdom:

looks like Santa's been knocking back some of Grandpa's Cough Medicine again

for us normal mortals, it's a horse

"crazy" is prima facie evidence; cop the plea and hope for mercy

it's one of life's cruelest ironies that we cannot truly appreciate the magic elixir of youth until it's gone

he's been the real leader ever since Butler, Pa

...and segue into real life vignettes...

last sunrise of the year at Larry's cottage...he and his dad are closing it for the winter today

Loki lurking...glad I'm not a mouse

quintessential mcm Christmas...

...and the Grinch up to his old tricks

just because I miss him (the Model T, not the photobomber)

Less than 2 weeks, folks.

You probably have 4 or 5 more days of frantic anxiety-fueled mayhem before you're finally flattened by unreasonable Christmas expectations.

Who knows?

Maybe once you let go of the externals and the chaos and the frills of the season, you'll find the peace that Elijah the prophet did in I Kings chapter 19:

God calls to each of us, but rarely in the tumult and the shouting.

'Tis the season, mcm fans...