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by Richard Timothy | Jul 4, 2010 | Adolescent Shenanigans, Holiday Banter, I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Utahism, When I Was a Kid
It is Saturday the 3rd of July*, which in Utah can only mean one thing… fireworks! Yes in the state of Utah any holiday that falls on a Sunday, save Christmas, is celebrated by the state on the Saturday before. It’s kind of a catch twenty-two though. (I would have included Easter in that, but Easter is a Sunday holiday so it’s not like it’s going to get celebrated in a different day for some reason.)
At one end of the spectrum it’s the power of the people controlling and choosing when to celebrate… at least it would be if there was a vote. I know it’s what the majority would vote for, which might be the rational for there not being a vote. At least I really don’t remember a vote, and democracy though assumption is not a government that I’m terribly supportive of. Hence part two of the equation, the perpetual and relentless lack of the concept, separation of church and state. I’m not saying that it’s like Vatican city… ok so maybe I’m saying it’s a little like that. There is a very strong church based control of the laws that get passed in this state.
It is getting better though, we even get the occasional alternate lifestyle supporter, and once we even had an a politician in office in Salt Lake City itself who was openly active in that alternative lifestyle. You’d never see it happen in the rural towns, still Utah is not a completely dark age state. Oddly though, the liquor stores are all run by the state. So all of these hard core religious politicians want to make sure they have control of the alcohol in this state, even though they are against the consumption of alcohol. I have heard, which may or may not be true, that it is the taxes on alcohol that helps pay for the schools, which to me means that if you want smarter children in the state if Utah, you really need to drink more. In fact I think for the rest of the wine parties we have each month I am going to start them off with a toast to the education of Utah’s children. It will be in good spirits and everyone will be drinking with intent and purpose.
I don’t believe there are any dry counties in Utah, so I don’t feel we are quite that archaic. I guess when it comes to Utah all I can do is quote the immortal words of one Bob Wiley from ‘What about Bob?’ fame and say, “Baby steps…” We’ll get there eventually, maybe not in my lifetime, but eventually. Until then I’ll keep celebrating Independence Day on the 3rd instead of the 4th during those years that the 4th falls on a Sunday. Likewise, I’ll continuing ignoring all state hosted New Years Eve celebrations that take place on the 30th of January instead of the 31st because the 31st falls on a Sunday… because that is just plain stupid and in my book utter sacrilege.
One of the things I learned today while out and about, going to a late movie during the same time that the official city run firework shows are going off is the perfect time to catch a movie. You can arrive five minutes after the movie has started and still get your choice of almost any seat in the house. We even caught a few colorful fireballs filling the evening sky on the drive home as well. It was like our own little double feature.
One thing about July in Utah is it is unofficially the official firework month. They legalize fireworks for the month of July for two different patriotic celebrations. The first is the 4th, which is the birthday party for the US. The second is the 24th, which is the day Utah officially become a state, hence the birthday of Utah. On both days there are firework celebrations and the state feels compelled to let the people of Utah light off fireworks during these three weeks without any legal repercussion… as long as you don’t set anything or anyone on fire that is. Granted these are only the state sanctioned and legal fireworks that are allowed, which are sold at the various firework booths that start popping up in grocery story parking lots throughout the month of July. For the more adventurous folks, they will drive about an hour out of their way to cross the state border over in to Wyoming were they can purchase illegal fireworks and bring them home… and quite probably
I have mixed feelings about fireworks, mainly because it’s a very literal variation of the old adage “burning your money”, which I’d like to think I’m against. Lighting off fireworks is more like lighting a hundred dollar bill on fire and watching it burn over an hour long interval, but this really only happens once or twice a year. Still, fireworks seem like a bad investment that I’m just not that interested in making.
Besides, I know that a portion of my state taxes are always going to help fund the state hosted firework shows each year, which does make me a little grumpy if I stop to think about it. Let say that the average firework show costs a hundred-thousand dollars (which is a made-up figure that I have no way of knowing is even remotely accurate). Ironically enough, well, hypocritically enough anyway, I always find it comical that it is illegal for any civilian to own or shoot off any illegal fireworks, which are the big ones that shoot into the air and make big colorful explosions in the sky. Yet, it is perfectly acceptable for the city council to bring in and light off thousands of these illegal fireworks each year. I guess that’s politics for you. The main thing I get grumbley about is that we could use that money to help people in the state that are living below the poverty line, that are homeless and hungry. Instead, we light all that money on fire so people can “Ooooh” and “Ahhhh” for about an hour.
Still, the little person inside me still remembers all of the fun I had based on bad decisions in the name of a good time. Things like holding firecrackers with my hands and throwing them into the air before the fuse ran out and they would explode. My favorite was the Roman candle wars we would have. Roman candles were twelve to fourteen inch long fireworks, about a half inch in diameter. One end had a stake that you would stick into the ground and then you’d light the fuse at the other end and ten to twelve little fireballs would shoot out of the end, burning a different color. They didn’t last that long and would burn out before it hit the ground, still you got ten of those in a row. My brothers and I would actually hold those things in our hands and then run around the back yard trying to hit each other with these baby fireballs. My dad just laughed at us and stayed close to the hose.
There is something hypnotic and inspiring about fireworks. I see it in the eyes of my niece and nephew when they watch them go off and fill the night’s sky with fiery colors. It’s kind of like watching them dream while they are awake. And there is my firework conundrum… inspiring and invoking imagination in the youth, and a huge waste of funds that could help those in need. Hopefully someday the state will find a happy medium. Until then I’ll try to keep this conundrum to myself and try to spend time with the niece and nephew when the fireworks go off and continue to donate to the food bank when I can. I guess that’s my happy medium for the time being. I hope everyone enjoyed, their 4th festivities, even if they happened to happen on the 3rd.
What are your thoughts on firework shows?
Image Source:
Google Images, key words: Utah fireworks, what about Bob, firework tent, watching fireworks, kids watching fireworks.
*I realize that I officially posted this on the 4th, but it was written on the 3rd. Sometimes things take a bit longer to post than I initially expected. Personally I blame hay fever and allergies, but the allergy medicine did play its role as well.
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by Richard Timothy | Jun 22, 2010 | Holiday Banter, I Do Suggest, I Think There's a Point, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Reviewed and Recommended
This year for the Summer Solstice I wanted to get something that paid homage to the solstice, but also utilizing the one thing that the solstice has plenty of… sunlight. So I bought myself the perfect solstice gift, a watch. And not just any watch, oh no, I bought a watch that would enable me to take advantage of the extended sunlight of the day. I did go a bit old school on the style of the watch though, but I felt it really captured essence of the whole solstice paradigm. I bought a sundial wrist watch. Really. It has no hidden watch on the inside or anything like that. It’s just a legitimate, possibly accurate time piece that can only be used during the day… make that a clear sunny day.
I’ve been told that it really will tell time, but I have to be facing true north and the watch must be resting on a level surface. Now had the watch come with a compass and leveler that would have definitely added to the practical applications of the watch. So far it’s only proved to be good for the following:
- 29 laughs
- 18 “Why?”
- 1 “Dude, can I copy you?”
- 2 “I’m not surprised?”
- 6 raised eye brows
- 3 “Of course you did!”
- 5 “So what time is it?”
- And about 59 “Does it really work?” (Which covers everyone I’ve shown it to.)
And that is all within less than one 24 hour period. Not bad results for such a short amount of time.
Solstice was celebrated in the way that all solstices should be celebrated, with friends, a fire pit, some really yummy no bake cookies, very tasty wine, and a release and proclamation ceremony. Meaning you write down the things you want to let go of and give thanks for the purpose they served in your life and set them on fire… releasing them. Then you have another piece of paper that you fill with your goals and intentions for the next year. Then you either save them to read as a daily reminder, or you burn them too, depending on the way you want your solstice ceremony to go. It was a little like a New Year’s resolutions party, but much, much warmer.
One thing I noticed throughout the evening, the homage to fire that people seem compelled to give. Wood kept being stacked on the fire pit, keeping the flames dancing as the sun went down. Soon we had people with sticks burning at both ends, being twirled and tossed into the air. Sharing some fire dancing techniques learned at a class they took a few years back. Apparently fire dancing is a lot like riding a bike. Only when you start again, it’s a very slow bike moving forward with very careful and precise pedal pushing.
Soon others were playing with the fire stick, practicing slowly, spinning it around them or waving it in the air as if it were a sparkler on steroids. It reminded me of the neighbor’s fence I caught on fire when I was a boy, secretly learning about the power and limits of a flame, a Bic lighter, and a can of hair spray. I only charred about a two foot by three foot section of fence, and lied about it until just last year when we were having dinner at my parents house and I told them that I was actually the one who did that. Can you believe they refused to give me any ice cream for dessert as punishment? Talk about holding a grudge.
The other thing I noticed about the party was the kids. Yes, it was one of those little people friendly parties. The interesting thing is that all of the kids, the ones 4 years old to 19 years old were all hanging out together and away from the adults. I’m not complaining mind you. It seemed to work out well for everyone, and it was cute to see that all the kids banded together, creating a “no old people” club while all the people with, well, jobs and wine were left alone to act like “old people.” Ah, how times have changed… a change that I actually feel quite good about. The older little people can watch the younger little people, and the older people can chat and drink wine. I’d say this is the first step into creating a perfect world.
A Merry Summer Solstice to you all… How was your solstice?
Image Source:
Google Images, key words: sundial watch, summer solstice, fire dancing, and friend drinking wine.
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by Richard Timothy | May 31, 2010 | Gratefully Grateful, Holiday Banter, I Do Suggest, I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
I did have a Smirk that I was going to post today, which I’ve been working on the past few days, but, clearly, I opted out of posting it due mainly to the fact that today is a holiday, Memorial Day to be precise. At its origin, Memorial Day was refereed as Decoration Day, where people would decorate the graves of Union soldiers that died during the American Civil War. The decorations were a way of paying respect and giving thanks to the soldiers who died while in service of the military.
Even as early as 1882 the name Memorial Day was used in relation to this holiday, but it was not until 1971 that it officially changed. The day was changed to always be observed on the last Monday of May in order to ensure a three day weekend. It also marks the beginning of summer.
I get that Memorial Day is for remembering our fallen military, but for me ever since I was little, the holiday as evolved into something more. To me, Memorial Day is a Dia de los Muertos, Day of the Dead. It’s not just a day for fallen soldiers, it’s a day for remembering all that have passed on. Since my mom’s grandparents were alive while I was growing up in Wyoming, there was never a need to go the their graves for memorial day, but once a year the family we would travel to Idaho and visit the little head stones of my dad’s parents. Then, as we would weed, edge, and deleaf their graves, and scrub clean their headstones, my dad would tell us stories about Grandma and Grandpa Timothy.
When my dad’s voice would start to crack and the silence between each sentence grew longer that is when the stories would come to a close, and we would go to the car and get out the food for our Memorial Day picnic. Usually it was sandwiches and Kool-Aid, and sometimes it was sandwiches and Kool-Aid and 7 Up mixed together for the magical combination of twice the sugar with only half the bubbles. Still, it was a treat that we never took for granted.
After lunch was over, we would usually head back home which consisted of me sitting in the middle of back seat with my feet on the hump and my knees to my chest. I would dare say that this was my least favorite traveling position, but as it turned out, it was rather fortuitous. I was a head duck away from a sitting fetal position, which was always helpful when sitting between my two older brothers who, on more than one occasion, would feel compelled to fight out what was between them… namely me. I love them both to pieces now, but as the little brother growing up, my old brothers were bastards… of course I mean no disrespect towards my mom. I’m just saying… we didn’t always get along when we were little.
Memorial Day is one of those red wine holidays. The older I get the more I appreciate and savor the holiday. I am grateful to the service men that did what they felt they needed to for this country, and I’m grateful for those that I have known who have expired. My grandparents on both sides of the family are now gone, but it was their lessons they transferred onto my parents that helped them become the parents they are for me. Today is a holiday to celebrate the memories we have of those who are gone and it should be a celebration. Their life has affected our life and for that, I am thankful.
Even though today is the US day of observance there are similar holidays celebrated for this same purpose. There is:
And I’m sure the list just keeps going from there. There is a certain homage that is tied to people who have served and died for their country. I do think, though, that one can serve their country without military service. I look at people working at a soup kitchen to assist those in need, or people offering their time to serve people in hospitals, or donating blood, or any type of service that helps others. To me, that is serving your country.
And to add just a one more thing to my little soapbox moment here, please try to leave the politics at home on days like today. Let’s try being gracious to those that are gone. So lift a glass, pint, mug, bottle, cask, keg… whatever really, but lift your drink and offer a thanks. I don’t see the point in getting angry on a day like today, it doesn’t do you any good and it doesn’t do those that are gone any good. I do admit I have no experience with losing a loved one due to war. I’m sure it’s different for you.
I think most service men die because those in charge made poor decisions or were too proud to have conversations with other people in charge that could save lives. Then again, there is also the occasional crazy bastard that just wants to kill epic amounts of innocent people. In which case I do think people like that could benefit from either a lobotomy or a circumcision that starts at the base of the neck. I guess the point is, that on your day of remembrance, you choose to remember the loved ones who is gone, and not what took them away.
I’m actually off to my brother’s for a BBQ this afternoon. When I get there, I’m going to have both my parents tell us a story about their parents. Even though we didn’t visit any graves this year, at least we can share and celebrate the memories we have of them. So to all those who have gone to whatever beyond you think might exist or not exist, to those who believed in and gave something to this world and their country , and to my grandparents, my Aunt Carol and Uncle Dee, and to my friend Alison. And finally to days like today, which remind us to remember. Cheers!
How was your Memorial Day?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: Memorial Day, family picnic, and grandpa telling stories.
by Richard Timothy | May 10, 2010 | Gratefully Grateful, Holiday Banter, Life Characters, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, When I Was a Kid
One of the problems that I find with Smirking on the day of a holiday is whether or not I am going to have some free time to get some writing done on that holiday. Some holiday’s works out great, some result in me getting a Smirk posted on the day of, but just before around midnight so it can still be technically posted on the day of. Then there are holidays, like yesterdays Mother’s Day, which takes all of my writing time for the day because the holiday requires me to bask in the celebration of the holiday. If I hadn’t been so exhausted from spending a few hours running around the back yard with my 5 year old niece perhaps I could have gotten something done. But between the water fights, 27 times we played use the lawn darts to hit basketball game (they were the plastic ones), playing house, having a tea party with two baby dolls and three Barbie’s and one of Barbie’s horses, and helping her climb a few trees, I was a touched pooped by the time I got home. So with all that being said, today gets to be my (post) Mother’s Day Smirk.
Contrary to popular belief, Mother’s was not originally a pagan holiday. Ok, so maybe I’m the only one who has ever assumed Mother’s day was at its origin a Pagan holiday, but it’s my fail safe explanation. If you don’t know the origin or a holiday, just blame it on the Pagans. It’s worked pretty will for me so far. I guess that’s what I get for assuming though. Of course, you know what happens when you assume? Apparently a spell is cast and you are turned into a donkey named Ume… or something close to that. Maybe, assuming is, at its origin, a pagan thing? It sure explains that whole shape shifting donkey thing. Actually, it all depends on what origins of the holiday you are after, if you look at all the Mother’s Day holidays around the globe, we really do need to give some credit to the Pagans… thanks Pagans! As for today’s information on the holiday it is based on the US version of Mother’s Day.
Mother’s on the other hand, are just like the heart, the brain, and the nervous system. We are all born with one and we would not be here without one. Despite all our differences, mothers are one of those things that make us all the same. That is, at least, until human cloning becomes a standard practice of human devolution.
The present day version of Mother’s Day was inspired one Ann Jarvis. Back in 1868 she set out to create a Mother’s Friendship Day, which was designed to bring families who had been divided during the Civil War back together. Before the movement gained any substantial momentum Ann died on May 9th, 1905. It was her daughter Anne Marie Jarvis that keep Ann’s work going. It took a few years, but on May 12, 1907 there was a memorial service held at an Episcopal Church in West Virginia honoring all mothers. The first “official” service happened a year later on May 10, 1908. Anne then started a campaign to establish Mother’s Day as a national US holiday.
In 1910, West Virginia officially declared Mother’s Day an official holiday. The nice thing about that is who is going to say no to a holiday celebrating mothers, especially in congress. I mean there are some things that are passed that people are going to rant and bellow against it. I mean how big of a gluteus maximus article of clothing that you place on your head do you have to be to vote against something like a day to celebrate your mom? I would assume and hope that it was a unanimous decision to follow suit, because it did not take long for the other states to jump on the Mother’s Day wagon. Then on May 8, 1914 the US Congress passed a law making the second Sunday of May Mother’s Day. The next day, Woodrow Wilson proclaimed May 9, 1914 the first national Mother’s Day… ok so that really wasn’t so much funny as it is educational, but I did find it interestingly educational as opposed to yawnishly education.
Now because mothers are people too, they are all different, unique, and simply put, human. Some mothers are good, some are not. Some are nothing more than incubators, and some are your best friend your entire life. Some share DNA with you and some do not, but one thing is universal about them, they are our mother.
My dad’s mother, well sadly, I never met her. She was gone before I made my grand entrance onto the planet, but I’ve heard stories and seen photos of her. Her photos always reminded me of the incarnation of Santa’s special lady, Mrs. Claus. According to the stories my dad has shared about her, I’m going to have to say that I am about 76% sure that she actually was Santa’s main squeeze, or at the very least related to the family in some way.
As for my mom’s mom, she was a product of the great depression, a little hard, and very set in her ways, but we always had a grand time when visiting, which was about 2 to 3 times a week, and we were always welcomed. I’m not sure why, but one of my first thoughts about her is always her unexpected and always entertaining use of colorful metaphors. They were always said under her breath and when she didn’t think anyone was listening. It was more of an involuntary thing for her than anything else. It was a result of everyday “oops” type situations. Things like dropping a fork from the dinner table, accidentally pricking her finger with a sewing needle, or dropping a washed dish while she was drying it by hand. Each of these situations would trigger an automatic cursing expulsion. This whispered flurry of words would always give my siblings and me a fit of the giggles, which we would blame on the cartoons we would be watching. I never dared repeat any of the words I learned from grandma until I was at least in junior high school. For the record, it wasn’t your standard back ally, drunken sailor profanity either. It was just your standard, run of the mill, ok-for-70’s television profanity.
Then there are the Karen’s. Both Angela’s mother and my mother are named Karen, which is of Danish origin meaning pure. As far as mother’s go, actually as far as people go, I’ve never met a woman so devoted, concerned, loving, worried for and unconditionally loving and supporting as my mom. My only gripe is that she is one of those older generation mothers who believe serving others is what a large part of life is about, which is fine, but she does have a difficult time receiving anything for herself and accepting how amazing she truly is. Interestingly enough my new, second mom, Angela’s Karen is a bit similar in this behavior as well.
There is a song by Natalie Merchant that, from the first time I heard it, reminded me of my mom. It very simply, accurately, and beautifully put into song the way I feel about her. It was the song that I dedicated to her, and dance with her to, on my wedding. I suppose you could call it my official Mom song. So for this Mother’s Day, and for every Mother’s Day to come, I dedicate the song Kind and Generous to my mom’s, Karen and Karen, and to all the secondary mother’s I had growing up, Anson’s mom Helen, Kyle’s mom Carol, and Buck’s mom Nan. To my mother’s… (Note: There are two songs in the attached video, the first song is the one I’m referring too. I would have linked the official video, but I think it takes away from the message I find in the song.)
Thank you and I love you.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A89kgQK3pfU&feature=fvw]
(Click here if video did not play. Click here to see the lyrics.)
What song would you dedicate to your mother?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: dad spinning daughter, pagans, mothers day, mrs claus, and mom hugging son.
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by Richard Timothy | Apr 5, 2010 | Holiday Banter, I Just Don't Get It, I Think There's a Point, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement
With Easter arriving on a Sunday this year, I found myself a wee bit distracted from the documenting Smirkful observations and spent the day with family. Besides laughs and conversation, it also included consuming chocolate, food, chocolate, sugar dipped marshmallow baby chickens, and hard boiled eggs… and chocolate. There are some holidays that carry with them certain smells that when you come across them reek that the holiday has arrived. The smell of evergreens filling the house will always announce to my nose that Christmas is here. Just like the smell of the mingling aroma of baking pumpkin pie and cooked turkey slaps my taste buds into a confusing state of mouth watering appreciation which can only be defined as Happy Thanksgiving. (I say confusing because I hate pumpkin pie, but do enjoy a real turkey out of the oven.)
Then there is Easter, which unfortunately carries with it the ominous odor of chocolate covered egg burps. I’m not saying this is how I want to remember the holiday. It’s just that over the year’s one of the most common reoccurring fragrances that Easter has always offered it the pungent smell of hard boiled eggs with just a hint of chocolate from all those damn Whopper Robin Eggs.
With Easter now over with, and with the bargain shoppers now rushing to all of the grocery stores to buy carts full of 50% off Easter candy and holiday décor that will be used next year, what better time than now to learn a little something about this holiday. Apart from the unfortunate smells associated with it.
If you know anything about this holiday it’s that you can’t have Easter without the Pagans. Granted there are a number of holidays we wouldn’t have without the Pagans. That being said… thanks Pagans. What few people know is that the name Easter comes from mistakes that were made in the east, as in east errs. Ok, I made that up. According to a fair amount of random internet sources that I perused for the sole purpose of shared enlightenment the word Easter comes from the name Eostre, who as the Great Mother Goddess of the Saxon people in Northern Europe. Apparently the name of the goddess originates from the ancient word for spring (or eastre), and a festival was held in her honor every year at the vernal equinox.
Regardless of your beliefs, Easter is a salute to spring. For the Earth, spring is a very literal type of resurrection, renewal, rebirth, regurgitation… of sleeping vegetation, and other “re” words that would require much longer explanations as to how they relate to Easter, but that I really don’t want to get into. For Christians and Pagans alike it represents either the symbolic or literal resurrection of a god. Of course, this is dependent on either what kind of Christian or Pagan you are.
In Gerald L. Berry’s book “Religions of the World,” he wrote:
“About 200 B.C. mystery cults began to appear in Rome just as they had earlier in Greece. Most notable was the Cybele cult centered on Vatican hill …Associated with the Cybele cult was that of her lover, Attis (the older Tammuz, Osiris, Dionysus, or Orpheus under a new name). He was a god of ever-reviving vegetation. Born of a virgin, he died and was reborn annually. The festival began as a day of blood on Black Friday and culminated after three days in a day of rejoicing over the resurrection.”
That’s not all though. I know for me Easter has and will always mean one thing that thing is bunnies! And from here on out, it’s only predominantly going to mean Flemish bunnies. They are both adorable and huge. I have only recently been introduced to these massive creatures of fluffy adorability, and quite honestly, I have been waiting for Easter to arrive so I could share their existence with others… mainly because of the flawless segue I would be able to make from Easter Bunny to Flemish rabbits. Oh damn, I forgot to talk about the Easter Bunny.
Well, according to the myth, the Easter Bunny is a rabbit-spirit. Before being referred to as the Easter Bunny, he was called the “Easter Hare.” The reason being that rabbits and hares are renowned for having frequent multiple births. Because of this they became a symbol of fertility. The practice of the Easter egg hunt began because children believed that hares laid eggs in the grass. In looking more into this I found that the Romans believed that all life comes from an egg, forever answering the age old question of which came first the chicken or the egg. I also read that Christians considered eggs to be the seed of life, thus making the eggs symbolic of the resurrection of Jesus. Also, on a side note, I’d like to point out that once you devil eggs, they do become rather tempting.
Right, so Flemish rabbits, or as they are commonly referred to the “Flemish Giant” breed of rabbit, are the super sized options of the bunny kingdom. Some of these Bugs-like offspring have been reported weighing as much as 28 pounds (13 kilos). That’s like a Thanksgiving sized rabbit, and you probably wouldn’t even need any stuffing. Although you’d still have some because it’s stuffing, and stuffing is the delicious love child of a pride of garden herbs and a gaggle of croutons that have been spending too much time in a sauna. 
And no, I’m not recommending, suggesting, or in any way inferring that we should consume these large furry bouncing ground clouds of happiness. I was just making a very poorly thought out size juxtaposition, which I am not proud of. A better comparison would be canine. I mean they might not weigh as much as a golden retriever, but they could look it. Besides, everyone knows that visually speaking the fluffiness adds at least ten pounds.
My gripe with the present day celebration of Easter is psychological trauma that children suffer from in regards to how the holiday is usually celebrated. I am, of course, referring to all the children who are graced with a large collection of sugar infused goodies. After consuming as much of the candy as possible they are taken to some type of ceremonial activity and expected to be well behaved and quite while some religious themed message is shared to a group of attendees.
Getting your kids all jacked up on sugar and then punishing them because they were fidgeting, or screaming and running up and down the aisles as fast as they can is poor parenting, period. How is it possible that anyone be surprised that their children are behaving badly after you have just enabled and encouraged them to overload on sugar is like getting a Brazilian hot wax treatment and then acting all surprised that it hurts. It baffles me… on both accounts, the feeding candy to kids then yelling at them for being hyper bit, as well as the hot wax bit.
Regardless of your feelings about Easter and its symbolism and origins I think there is one thing we can all agree on… the urge all of you have, myself included, to pet one of those Flemish Giant rabbits. When I think of Flemish Giant rabbits I can’t help but think of Hugo the Abominable Snowman, who summed things up perfectly when he said, “Just what I always wanted. My own little bunny rabbit! I will name him George, and I will hug him, and pet him, and squeeze him.”
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2JlVqfC8-UI]
Any Easter, or more importantly, Flemish Giant thoughts?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: Flemish Giant, Flemish Giant with dog, Easter, Eostre, and kids eating Easter candy.
![Happy Almost Independence Day]()
by Richard Timothy | Feb 14, 2010 | Holiday Banter, I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
It’s been shark week at my house. No, I have not been collecting on any debts that I have with people who owe me money… because no one owes me any money. I don’t think I could ever be the sea worthy predator that loans money to people. I like people too much. And to you Discovery Channel viewers who are contemplating writing me to call me a liar, I did say at my house. My visit to the library this past week scored a copy of a Shark Week DVD. I’ve always missed it in the past. So the opportunity to spend a few hours in front of the television to watch and learn about sharks, well, that’s just pretty damn cool.
Something happened though, when I put the DVD in. I don’t mean that the DVD loaded and started as normal. Ok, it did that, but what I am referring to is the commercial for the Discovery Channel that started playing after the DVD loaded. I wasn’t expecting that… sigh. Fine, I suppose that if I had really thought about it then I would have expected it. The ad/commercial thingy was what got to me though. It was my first time seeing this ad, and I just loved it. Here, check it out:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V5BxymuiAxQ]
Click here if video did not load.
Was it the cute little jingle, or the eclectic images and people singing? Sure those things help. It think it’s the statement at the end is what sums up what I love most about the ad, which is, “The world is just… awesome.” Plus, I got to see Stephen Hawking singing “boom-de-ah-da” through his voice synthesizer in a lecture hall. That alone makes me tingle in my bulbous area, and I’m not sure what the hell that even means. All I know for certain, it just makes me happy!
Oh! I just noticed the time… it’s officially Valentine’s Day, the day of love. Unless your pagan then its about the interaction of one’s naughty bits with another individual’s naughty bits… which can definitely be part of the present day celebration, but the focus is more on the love as opposed to the loving of the lover. The present day celebration is not as, say, communal, as the pagan celebration originally was either.
Before the spread of Christianity, an ancient Roman festival called Lupercalia took place every February 15. The festival honored Juno, the Roman goddess of women and marriage, and Pan, the god of nature. The Romans celebrated their feast of Lupercalia as a lovers’ festival for young people. Young men and women chose partners for the festival by drawing names from a box.
After the spread of Christianity, churchmen tried to give Christian meaning to the pagan festival. In 496, Pope Gelasius changed the Lupercalia festival of February 15 to Saint Valentine’s Day February 14. But the sentimental meaning of the old festival has remained to the present time. This is all according to the Valentine’s Day section in a 1966 World Book Encyclopedia. Why the hell am I sharing Valentine’s Day history with you from a 1966 World Book Encyclopedia? Makes me wish I had a damn good answer. Let’s go with, I didn’t have a 1969 “Summer of Love” edition so I went with the next closed year I could get… and it’s what the site I found referenced as its source when I Googled it.
Sure Valentines Day is a day of, for, and about lovers, but it’s also a day of love. A day where we remember the love we have for others. I don’t mean romantic love here, but a love for the people in your life that you really do love and that make life worth loving. And in juxtaposition with that, as the song goes, “I love the whole world. It’s such a brilliant place.”
Happy Valentine’s Day, I love you all… and in the words of the great Steven Wright, “It’s a small world, but I wouldn’t want to paint it.” Cheers.
What do you think about today?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: world, Valentine’s Day, and love you all.
It is Saturday the 3rd of July*, which in Utah can only mean one thing… fireworks! Yes in the state of Utah any holiday that falls on a Sunday, save Christmas, is celebrated by the state on the Saturday before. It’s kind of a catch twenty-two though. (I would have included Easter in that, but Easter is a Sunday holiday so it’s not like it’s going to get celebrated in a different day for some reason.)
I don’t believe there are any dry counties in Utah, so I don’t feel we are quite that archaic. I guess when it comes to Utah all I can do is quote the immortal words of one Bob Wiley from ‘What about Bob?’ fame and say, “Baby steps…” We’ll get there eventually, maybe not in my lifetime, but eventually. Until then I’ll keep celebrating Independence Day on the 3rd instead of the 4th during those years that the 4th falls on a Sunday. Likewise, I’ll continuing ignoring all state hosted New Years Eve celebrations that take place on the 30th of January instead of the 31st because the 31st falls on a Sunday… because that is just plain stupid and in my book utter sacrilege.
One thing about July in Utah is it is unofficially the official firework month. They legalize fireworks for the month of July for two different patriotic celebrations. The first is the 4th, which is the birthday party for the US. The second is the 24th, which is the day Utah officially become a state, hence the birthday of Utah. On both days there are firework celebrations and the state feels compelled to let the people of Utah light off fireworks during these three weeks without any legal repercussion… as long as you don’t set anything or anyone on fire that is. Granted these are only the state sanctioned and legal fireworks that are allowed, which are sold at the various firework booths that start popping up in grocery story parking lots throughout the month of July. For the more adventurous folks, they will drive about an hour out of their way to cross the state border over in to Wyoming were they can purchase illegal fireworks and bring them home… and quite probably
There is something hypnotic and inspiring about fireworks. I see it in the eyes of my niece and nephew when they watch them go off and fill the night’s sky with fiery colors. It’s kind of like watching them dream while they are awake. And there is my firework conundrum… inspiring and invoking imagination in the youth, and a huge waste of funds that could help those in need. Hopefully someday the state will find a happy medium. Until then I’ll try to keep this conundrum to myself and try to spend time with the niece and nephew when the fireworks go off and continue to donate to the food bank when I can. I guess that’s my happy medium for the time being. I hope everyone enjoyed, their 4th festivities, even if they happened to happen on the 3rd.
