Jim's Notes

jim kehl shared an Instagram photo with you

2012-02-01T11:53:00.001-08:00

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"The paparazzi are stalking my cake. "
(taken at Solar De Cahuenga)

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2012-01-30T10:17:00.001-08:00

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"Life is good!"
(taken at Koffi - South Palm Springs)

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People, Places, Things

2012-01-27T13:32:00.000-08:00

I just looked over this blog and for about 3 weeks I've just been posting photos. While they are fun and a very narrow slice of my life, they are not the complete picture (pardon the pun).

Things are in flux in my world. Things I am working out and not ready for publication. And in case you just got concerned, all good things.

Freedom, happiness, following my bliss. There are a lot of rules and regulations that suggest you can't have it all. And to be fair, you can't have it all, where would you put it? But if you boil down what makes you happy, if you distill the essence of bliss, cast off what is holding you back and you will find freedom.

My mother says I am about to embark an a great adventure. Stick around. It's gonna be a great time.

Box it up, I'll take it!

2012-01-27T10:39:00.001-08:00

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"For those who do not know, THIS is how one packs!"

Gung hay fat choy

2012-01-22T16:00:00.001-08:00

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"Happy new year of the dragon!"

Sour Flava

2012-01-22T02:58:00.000-08:00

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"Ladies & Gentlemen, Flava Flav!!!"
(taken at Body English)

Is Coolie still cool?

2012-01-22T02:40:00.001-08:00

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"Apparently this "Coolio" is very popular with the kids..."
(taken at Body English)

Silver & White

2012-01-21T19:18:00.001-08:00

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"Wedding consultation room"
(taken at Four Seasons Hotel Las Vegas)

Silver & Blue

2012-01-21T11:49:00.001-08:00

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"Happy Birthday Christian Dior (in my Dior shoes today)"

Tail winds

2012-01-21T11:23:00.001-08:00

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"Gettin' some tail today. "
(taken at Los Angeles International Airport (LAX))

You Better Work!

2012-01-19T08:36:00.001-08:00

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"Attack of the 50 ft RuPaul!"
(taken at Melrose And Highland)

Work it

2012-01-17T10:42:00.001-08:00

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"A little work sample featuring some ample talents. "

Skyview

2012-01-15T14:50:00.001-08:00

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"Leaving Bishop, CA"
(taken at Hwy 395)

Make yourself at home

2012-01-15T09:32:00.000-08:00

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"Some would call it a catbird seat, but Mr Cooper says its a dogbird seat. "
(taken at 13 White Pine)

Lazy

2012-01-14T14:31:00.001-08:00

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"When it's no longer "temporary lazy". "
(taken at Rite Aid)

Puffy

2012-01-14T08:45:00.001-08:00

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"Morning view, it's not just my eyes that are puffy. "
(taken at Mammoth Looney Bean)

The First Class Cabin in full

2012-01-13T16:21:00.001-08:00

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"Hey guys, it's a little cramped in here. "

I ate the Hole thing!

2012-01-11T20:28:00.000-08:00

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"Doughnut night!"
(taken at BLD Restaurant)

The windmill of my mind...

2012-01-10T03:01:00.000-08:00

Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel,
Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel,
Like a snowball down a mountain or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that's turning running rings around the moon,
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face,
And the world is like an apple whirling silently in space,
Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind.

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"Ferris Wheel lights"
(taken at Santa Monica Pier)

Not so patient...

2012-01-08T07:42:00.000-08:00

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"Waiting for someone to get up and get breakfast "

Sunny in the desert

2012-01-07T14:03:00.000-08:00

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"PS Styling"
(taken at Palm Springs)

What if...

2012-01-04T12:37:00.000-08:00

What if you could make a big bold plan, start moving forward and everything in your plan came true. Would you still do it?

You know those nice little platitudes that say "What would you try today, if you knew you could not fail?" I've read that. I thought about that. And I didn't do anything. At times, I've held back because the consequences of succeeding seemed more frightening than the failure.

We've got big changes afoot around here. We started talking change back in October. We got serious in November. I kept saying, "If you could do ANYTHING you wanted to do, what would it be?" The answers surprised us, amused us and at times have stopped us cold in our tracks. But we did not give up.

We made a dream plan. It looked good. Then we added to it. We dreamed and we dreamed bigger. Than we added to it. We dreamed as if we had no limits. And now each thing we have planned is coming true.

I'm not saying we dreamed we'd won the lottery or became members of Britain's Royal Family. We had a sense of scale to this plan. At the heart of the plan was the core dream, "I want to be happy. I want to enjoy my life," and we circled out from there.

Part of our big plan involves reductions. Realizing what inspires us and what holds us back. Shedding things and attitudes that weigh us down so we can move through our lives lighter and faster.

I know you are expecting some big reveal of what our plans are, and I apologize, not today. Probably not this month. This month is filled with work and tasks and details. At times it's all so overwhelming i can't breathe, but then the adrenaline kicks in and it all comes together.

I feel like we've been sitting back and watching life, a little too comfortable for a little too long. I am ready to feel a little fear, enjoy a lot of joy, give back to those around me and define MY life on My terms.

So far, so good.

What if you could change your life right now? Here's a newsflash, you can. We are.

Happy New Year!

2011-12-31T18:00:00.000-08:00

Here's a quick slideshow of our year in review (just the things I took photos of).

Have a great Evening.

Change is coming.

See you all next year.

jim kehl shared an Instagram photo with you

2011-12-31T13:48:00.001-08:00

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"Where the tree used to be. Sad. "

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2011-12-31T11:39:00.000-08:00

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"O Tannenbaum, auf wiedersehen. "

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jim kehl shared an Instagram photo with you

2011-12-29T19:43:00.000-08:00

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"Cassoulet "

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How can Christmas be over? I still have cookies!

2011-12-25T19:15:00.000-08:00

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"C is for Christmas and COOKIES!"

All set

2011-12-25T19:09:00.000-08:00

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"Ready for dinner. "

Oh Happy Day!

2011-12-25T16:38:00.001-08:00

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"Christmas is for the children. "

Torturing Mr Cooper

2011-12-25T13:19:00.000-08:00

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"Santa Paws was here!"

My 2 favorite boys

2011-12-25T12:27:00.000-08:00

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"Any day with these two is my favorite day. "

Welcome Christmas

2011-12-25T10:42:00.001-08:00

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"Christmas breakfast: cookies with coffee!"

Waiting for Santa...

2011-12-24T19:19:00.000-08:00

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"The stockings are hung by the chimney with care. "

Chrsitmas Eve traditions

2011-12-24T19:16:00.000-08:00

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"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas..."

Christmas Eve lunch

2011-12-24T12:13:00.000-08:00

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"Short rib sloppy joe"
(taken at simplethings)

Christmas Eve

2011-12-24T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 1 day

Some people don't know that there is an introduction to the famous song White Christmas.

Since I moved from Washington State to Southern California, that intro has taken on a whole new meaning for me (not that we ever had snow on Christmas).

The sun is shining.
The grass is green.
The orange and palm trees sway.
There's never been such a day
In Beverly Hills, L.A.
But it's December the twenty-fourth,
And I'm longing to be up north...

jim kehl shared an Instagram photo with you

2011-12-23T11:07:00.001-08:00

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"Who needs Starbucks? Peppermint mochas for 2, at home. "

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The Instagram Team

A gift for giving

2011-12-23T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 2 days

Knowing her own children, my mother did not put gift tags on presents. She wrote in faint, faint, pencil, very small, with terrible penmanship, on the back of each gift the first initial of the recipient.

Here is how that played out every year on Christmas morning. The kids would get up at about 6 am to see what Santa had left for them, unwrapped, along with their stocking. Whooping and hollering ensued. I'm pretty certain all the candy in the stocking helped that. My dad would get up first (probably because my mother had gone to bed at about 5 am after finishing wrapping everything) he stumbled around as he was waking up, trying to smile at how excited we were by all we had received from Santa, then the inevitable would happen.

That's my candy cane.
"No it's not."
Yes it IS, it came out of MY stocking.
"Well it was on MY side of the table."
That's just because there's too much stuff on the table, give it back!
"I'm not giving you MY candy!"
That's not fair! We all got the same amount and now you're stealing! Dad! Daaaaad!!!!!

That's when my dad would snap, hair sticking up in all directions, "Can't you goddamn kids keep quiet? Why the hell do you have to get up so early every year? Every year the same thing! I'll solve the whole damn problem, I'll take all the candy on this table and I'll give it to the orphans!" Which basically means that it must be 7 am because it happened exactly the same every year. Hearing all this, my mom wanders out all squinty eyed because she doesn't have her contacts in yet, "Ted... ?" Which is the cue for my dad to throw his hands up in the air and go make breakfast as a way to apologize for yelling at us on Christmas morning.

After breakfast (thanks dad!) we settle into our circle around the Christmas tree in the living room. You need to be spaced out a fair bit so you have room to open all your gifts, discard the wrapping paper, then stack your booty next to you. My job was to forage under the tree and pass out the parcels.

Remember, my mom doesn't use any gift tags, just faint pencil first initials, This on has a J, it's mine. This one has a D, Debbie. This one has a... um... I can't read this. And my mom would take the gift and hold it close to her eyes and squint, then turn the package, then move it away from her eyes, then turn the package, and say, "I think it's a G, try Gary." And this would be repeated over and over again until we came down to the last ten gifts.

There were five of us. Each person had a "final gift" the BIG FINISH if you will. It wasn't necessarily the most expensive gift. It could be the most elusive gift, that you were certain no one would find for you. And then there is "the perfect gift", something so unique that you never knew it even existed, so there was no way you could have asked for it (such low expectations here). Perhaps it is the complete opposite of all these things. It is actually exactly the gift you are totally expecting but you have been a pain to shop for. So here it is. Yes, you are getting it. But you still have to wait and wonder if maybe you aren't actually going to get it after all...

But that's five gifts you say. Why are there ten gifts in a holding pattern?

That's because my mother has terrible penmanship, a faint pencil, and her contacts haven't fallen into proper place just yet. There are now 5 "big finish" gifts and 5 "mystery gifts."

My mother looks over the stack of gifts each person has next to him or her, cataloging what she sees and trying to figure out what is missing. Then she looks at the 5 mystery gifts trying to remember which misplaced gift would be wrapped in which way. "Hand me that short flat one," the short flat one is inspected all over the back until at last an initial is spotted, "A-HA! This one is for Gary!" Sometimes, halfway through the wrapping paper reveal, my mom would shout, "Wait! Stop! That wasn't a G! It was a D! That gift is for Debbie!" This is repeated until all the mystery gifts are passed out and then it is Final Gift Round.

My sister gets a hairdryer of her own! My brother gets the stereo from the Tupperware gift catalog! And me... and me... and me?.... (Okay, we all know it's not a puppy, right?) I got an electric railroad set!

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas Poem, 2011

2011-12-22T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 3 days

Our annual Christmas Poem:

So much happens in a year
Sometimes laughter, sometimes tears
Time is fleeting, get my gist?
Yet still I try to make a list
Twitter, Facebook are we friends?
There’s still my blog, it never ends

One year we travel, the next stay home
We still went places, not far to roam
Vegas for work, and saw Kylie Minogue
To Washington and Canada, family to and fro

To Mammoth for skiing, (well that was just Lyle)
To Palms Springs for sunning, we were there quite a while
We liked it, we loved it, we went quite a lot
We hosted, we boasted, you should give it a shot

The Hollywood Bowl, the dancing, the singing,
Extravagant meals with friends worth repeating,
We’re creating a life that nurtures our spirit
Somehow it takes all our money to do it

Mr Cooper is happy, spoiled in every way
Lyle’s passing out treats like each day’s his Birthday
Our future looks bright, sometimes the views blinding
The new year brings promise of change, so exciting

It’s not all about money, fame or wealth
We’re thankful for humor, each other and health
We cherish the one’s we hold close and dear
Merry Christmas to all, and a happy New Year!

jim kehl shared an Instagram photo with you

2011-12-21T10:55:00.001-08:00

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"Baby, you're a FIREWORK!"
(taken at Koffi - North Palm Springs)

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Happy Birthday Dad!

2011-12-21T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 4 days

It must suck to have your birthday so close to Christmas. I guess you don't get to choose your birth date so you just make the best of it, but still, you know that most of your presents are going to either come with Christmas wrapping paper or be one of those, "I went over budget so this will be half your birthday gift, and half your Christmas gift" kind of moments.

It's my dad's birthday today! And he is turning.... uh.... "really old."

Dad's are notoriously hard to buy for. If you think it sucks to have your birthday this close to Christmas, try shopping for the most difficult person on your list for TWO gifts in the same week. When I was younger we had three fail safe gifts for dad: Peanut brittle, chocolate peanut clusters and mixed nuts. Since there were three kids we struck an uneasy alliance that each of us would get one of those "easy gifts" for dad for either his birthday or Christmas. After that, you were on your own for the other gift.

What are you getting dad for Christmas?
"Chocolate covered peanut clusters."
What about for his birthday?
"Don't know, I think a flashlight."
What's Debbie getting him for Christmas?
"Peanut brittle."
And for his birthday?
"Big bag of mixed nuts."
No way, that's not fair.
"Should have spoken up sooner."
It's not fair, you have to get one thing that's not food. That's the rules.
"There's no RULES."
Yes there IS, MOM! Mooooommmmmm!!!!!!

Dad's nuts, on Christmas morning.

The beauty of food giving is that it's perishable. He doesn't still have all that food from last year. You can't have bought dad's gift at the beginning of the month. You had to buy it that week. And if you were incredibly generous, dad would have too much. "Jesus, you bought way too many of these chocolate peanut clusters, I can't eat all these by myself! Who's gonna' help me eat all this...?" PICK ME! PICK ME! SUPER SCORE!!!

Then there became some issue with my dad not supposed be eating so much sugar, chocolate or nuts. And suddenly our no fault, never fail, easy gift options were off the table. He doesn't wear ties. He has three tire gauges. Maybe a new high tech ice scraper?

Last year I combined my parents Christmas gift and gave them both a puzzle a month for a year. They like puzzles. They are always doing puzzles. I went through and chose great pictures that went with each month. I don't do puzzles. I didn't look at the number of pieces in each puzzle. As a consequence, last year I managed to give the gift that keeps on giving... frustration. I think they may be on August or September right about now. That means that last year's gift is still going as this year's gift, right? I'm off the hook, right? Because I have to tell you, I still have no idea what to get my dad for Christmas. Or his birthday.

Happy Hanukkah!

2011-12-20T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 5 days

Hanukkah starts at sundown tonight. Seems late this year doesn't it?

Maybe you don't keep up with the Jewish holidays where you live, but the neighborhood we live in mostly orthodox Jewish. When we moved into our house in July, as the movers loaded in the 30 totes of Christmas decorations for inside the house and then the greenery, lights and 6 foot fiberglass snowman for the outside of the house, I thought, "WOW. This neighborhood doesn't know what's about to hit it!"

At our previous house, I had placed a 4 foot star lit up with twenty 15 watt light-bulbs (it used to be a window display prop) way up at the top of our chimney. You could see that star from Santa Monica blvd 10 houses away. SERIOUSLY.

At the new house, as Halloween approached, Lyle asked if I was going to decorate for Halloween. "No, I'm not going to tip my hand. Let Christmas come as a complete surprise to them..."

Then on the Friday after Thanksgiving, I got busy.

I placed our interior tree in the front window to show off even more lights. Then I sat back and waited.

I didn't have to wait long. Two nights later, there was a knock on the front window, "Excuse me! Excuse me!" I jumped up and ran to get Lyle (I don't talk to strangers), "Someone is at the front window!" The front door? "No, the WINDOW."

Lyle came up to the window where this strange person was still waving, "Hi, I don't want to bother you, but I have to tell you how much I LOVE YOUR LIGHTS! I was driving by and they are so gorgeous I had to stop and tell you I love them... and I'm JEWISH! But religion doesn't matter, people are people, we should all get along and enjoy the spirit of the season, bring home our troops and find peace for the whole world. Bless you! Thank you! Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah!" and then she ran back to her car that was parked half across the neighbors driveway and half across the street and drove away.

Lyle just stood there in disbelief, I grabbed the phone and called my parents. "Guess what!?! I can now officially say that my Christmas lights on my house have officially STOPPED TRAFFIC!"

Tinsel

2011-12-19T14:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 6 days

Whatever happened to tinsel?

When I was very little, my grandparents always had tinsel on their tree. Tinsel was a BIG DEAL back then. When I was old enough to talk, I know I started asking for tinsel on the tree. Before I could talk, I'm pretty certain I tried to eat tinsel off the tree. It's so pretty. It's so SHINY!

Once we were old enough to help decorate the tree, we kids always asked if we could tinsel the tree. It was a big request because inevitably the tinsel is going to wind up ALL OVER THE HOUSE. At least that's what my mom would say, "No, I don't want tinsel on the tree this year. Why? Because it winds up ALL OVER THE HOUSE. Are you the one that's going to vacuum? Are you the one that is going to get it out the heat vents? Are you going to clean up the cat vomit after he eats all that tinsel?"

To which we all replied Yes! Yes! Yes! But really meant, "Good luck catching me in 3 days to actually do any of that."

And so after hours of pleading, and waiting for my dad to go to the Elk's club (he was never going to give in), we would get our tinsel wish.

My brother was in charge of the top most part of the tree because he was tallest. My sister got the middle, and I got the bottom.

Each tinsel strand must be picked up singly and draped one by tedious one on each branch to emulate the look of icicles. One, by one. One by one. One by one. One, by one. One by one. One by one. One, by one. One by one. One by one. One, by one. (sigh) One by one. One by one. One, by one. (this is BORING) One by one. One by one. One, by one. One by one. (HEAVY sigh) One by one. One, by one. One by one. Two by two. One, by one. Three by three. One by one....

Decorating the bottom of a tree isn't very glamorous. I wanted to decorate the top and middle where my work would be featured. But i was too short. And I wasn't allowed to get up on the ladder. But you know, there is a way to get your handiwork seen by the big people. Throw your tinsel. Grab a good handful and just chuck it at the top of the tree. If you're on the opposite side of the tree, no one will know, until they come around.

Mom! Jimmy's throwing tinsel!
Am not!
So are! Look at this branch!
Gary did it.
Did not!
Stop throwing the tinsel!
Stop telling me what to do!
MOM!
MOMMMMM!!!!!

Okay, I see now why my mom didn't want tinsel on the tree. She would have to come in and mediate the tinsel placement. Again, it's a tedious process and even my mother would start to do the two by three strands after an hour or two. At about 3 hours, the tree is so covered in tinsel you can't see the ornaments and a Charlie Brown Christmas special is on the TV. We all give up and finally sit down.

The tinsel (back in the day) was lead based. It was heavy and would easily break. The lights were most often C7 bulbs that got really hot and the lead based tinsel would melt onto the bulbs giving off a really good hot lead fire smell.

An hour later my dad would come home and say, "You just couldn't stop yourselves, could you? You can't even see the ornaments through all that garbage." Then he'd sit down in the living room, pause, and say, "Sure looks pretty doesn't it though?"

Christmas Cookies

2011-12-18T20:15:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 7 days

I made cookies yesterday, and today, and tomorrow. Not that I am making scores of cookies for days on end, I am making ONE kind of cookie that takes three days to complete.

When I was a kid there was one cookbook that held my attention over all others, the Betty Crocker Cookie Book. SO popular was this book, that today it shows the wear.

We would pour over this book for months. Make this one! No, this one looks better! Ooooo, look at these pictures! This one has raisins, gross.

This was the book all cookies came from in our house. I am the lucky archivist that stole this away before my siblings could ask for it. Inside, next to the popular recipes, in my mother's scrawling handwriting is her seal of approval "good":

The double measurements, or even the triple measurements are writing in pencil for all eternity.

And then there are two Scottish shortbread recipes and we could never remember which one was the good one and which one was the bad one. After the last time of putting all that energy into making a cookie that was NOT the one we wanted, I took matters into my own hands and wrote my own note for future generations:

It was with great care that I got out the tattered cookie book and rifled my way through to the sugar cookie recipes. I selected "Mary's Sugar Cookies" as they were the only one that didn't require I use shortening. I like my butter.

I mixed up the dough on Saturday and then refrigerated it overnight. The secret of cookie cutter cookies is COLD. You need a cold kitchen, a cold workspace, cold dough and cold utensils. I live in LA. Even when it is "cold" it's warm in my house (I'm wearing flip flops for goodness sake!) The dough was shilled overnight, and I placed my rolling pin and my cookie cutters in the freezer.

I rolled out the dough in small batches as fast as I could. At the end of rolling, I placed my rolling pin back in the freezer. Same with the cutters. Use them, then back in the freezer. Some of the cookie cutters are detailed and hard to get the dough out of. At Lyle's suggestion I lightly sprayed the cookie cutter with some cooking oil. It worked!

From cut out and ready for the oven:

To all baked and cooling:

Tomorrow, the horror.... I'll be icing and decorating them!

Sugar Soldiers

2011-12-18T15:33:00.001-08:00

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"There's an army forming at the border... about to march to my stomach!"

Boots!

2011-12-18T09:02:00.001-08:00

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"Early Christmas gift, snow boots!"

Christmas Cards

2011-12-17T08:55:00.000-08:00

Come closer, Santa wants to tell you a little secret...
Santa’s not wearing any underwear. Merry Christmas

Countdown to Christmas 8 days

Do you still send Christmas cards? It gets more expensive and more difficult to get these done each year. And let me tell you, I gave up long ago. Lyle does the cards at my house. He's amazing.

I remember as a kid running down to the mailbox after the postman left and pulling out this stack of envelopes. It's probably raining, so you race back the house as fast you can, shielding the mail inside your jacket. Back in the house, you sort through it all, "Bill, bill, card! Card! Card! Catalog, Card! Bill."

Then you go through the cards to see who they are addressed to. Mom & Dad, Mom & Dad, just Mom, "AND FAMILY"! The rule was, if it said your name or "And Family" you were allowed to open it. Then you looked at who the card was from, relative, family friend, someone you've never heard of... Hey, how come this one is just to mom & dad? We know those people, not fair, it should be to "and family," harumph.

My mom had a ledger that kept track of who she sent cards to, who sent cards in, which years they exchanged, which years got missed. I don't know why. She wasn't the score keeping kind. But Christmas cards do make you keep score. Most people I know send out their cards and keep 5 extra on hand in case someone sends them a card they weren't expecting.

Then what do you do with all those cards? Some people place them in a basket, some hang them on a ribbon. I used to have festive clothespins to hang them along on a garland. These days we are able to stand them up along some furniture and view them all season.

Do you include a photo? We stopped doing that. A newsletter? I enjoy those as long as they are not just complete boasting about your children's accomplishments. I write a rhyming poem every year. It gets difficult to rhyme the passing of a grandparent and festive lights. But I preserver.

I used to make greeting cards. I wrote and designed Christmas cards, in July. Tough to get in the spirit then.

If I've already received a card from you, thanks! If you haven't sent me one, don't go to any bother, I only kept 3 cards aside for those unexpected last minute scorekeepers.

These Gingerbread cookies have a special with for you this Holiday season, BITE ME.

Cooper likes cocktails

2011-12-16T19:16:00.001-08:00

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"A festive holiday drink... is always better when shared. "

Greatest Hits

2011-12-16T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 9 days

I'm really busy with work this week and am getting behind. Imagine that, getting behind during Christmas?

So I wanted to repost something I've already shared before, The Drink of My People. I first posted this in December of 2008. Happy Drinking!

When I was a child (and not just childish like I am now) we spent every Christmas Eve at my grandpa Don and Grandma Mable's house. It was a massive undertaking. EVERYONE was there. The main family of my mother's siblings and all their families would all be at Christmas dinner the next day, but Christmas Eve brought out all the aunts, great aunts, uncles, great uncles, great grandparents, cousins, cousins twice removed and everyone else we only saw at potlucks at the lake during the summer. If you're old enough to remember the reference, we looked like the King Family Singers.
It has colored my impression of what a holiday should look like for the rest of my life.

As the family would gather at my grandparents, everyone got a "Snowball". If you were a kid, you could have a snowball without the vodka. My grandpa Don would stand off in the corner of the kitchen with all his supplies ready. Ice. Ice crasher (not a crusher - this was a long handle with a ball bearing at the end surrounded by a rubber ring that he would use to "Whack" the ice cubes into his hand and smash them into smaller pieces). Whipping cream in a carton. 7-Up. Alcohol. Snowball glasses.

I can still picture it exactly in my head. Right over there in the corner by the fridge, in front of the cupboard that held my favorite glasses that had antique cars on them and of course the "farm glass" that had a drawing of barn and barnyard animals that I would "drown" when I filled the glass with grape juice up to the weather vane.

After my grandfather passed away, Christmas Eve moved to my family's house. Less extended family came by and more friends dropped in. My dad took over The Snowball Business.

Can I help? I'd chirp next to his elbow.
"Nope."
Why not?
"Because."
Because why?
"Because I said so."
Why'd you say so?
"Because you don't get to touch booze."
Can I make one without?
"Nope."
But I won't touch the booze.
"You don't know what you're doing."
Can I watch?
"Nope."
Why not?
"GO HELP YOUR MOTHER!"

And then I would take a step back and spy on him anyway. We all did. The Snowball was shrouded in mystery as to how it works. Once we were older and closer to college age we would sneak into The Snowball zone on Christmas Eve while my dad was talking in the living room and try to make them ourselves. My dad would come back and shoo us away, "You don't know what your doing. You're just wasting all the ingredients. Here, I'll make you one. JUST ONE."

And then we got brave enough to try them on our own. I remember it exactly. My brother and sister were going to have a Christmas party that would start at my brother's apartment and finish at my sisters. They lived about two blocks apart and we could all walk between them. My sister would be doing all the food at her house and my brother announced he would be making The Snowball. I think my response was "Can we just do that?"

By this time we had all had a turn making snowballs on Christmas Eve behind my dad's back. When friend's would arrive and we didn't want to drag dad back to the kitchen, or tell him we had friends who drank alcohol.

The snowballs at my brother's house were amazing. They tasted just like the kind dad made at home with a hint of something illicit. We were officially adults now and we were still in our 20's!

I've carried this recipe with me in my head all these years and recently a cousin asked my mother about "the drink of our people" and my mom said "ask Jim." So I tried to write it down as best as I can. I think it's a visual. Impossible to write down. And yet I will try.

Be warned, this is a difficult recipe... Not because of the ingredients, but the technique it seems to require. I have a theory that you you must experience a “master” maker and an “apprentice” maker before you should attempt. For instance, in my group of friends who have learned from me (an apprentice level) they have all seen my dad make them (the master level). And I watched my dad when he was at an apprentice level and learned it all from my grandpa Don who was the master of the recipe (for all I know, he invented it!).

That being said, I am trying to share it anyway! This recipe has never been given away and I may even take it back later. My friend Gina McGowan is the one who coined the term "The drink of your people" in reference to this amazing cocktail and as such I feel very proprietary over it.

Not one ingredient or direction can be altered. (and trust me I have tried and failed)

Start with a tall straight glass glass.

In the bottom of the glass add three or four crushed ice cubes (or buy your ice crushed and add a handful) about three fingers measure from the bottom of the glass when you wrap your hand around the tumbler.

Then you pour one shot of Vodka over the ice.

Then one shot of whipping cream over the ice.

Now the tricky part!

Get a spoon (longer is better) and with one hand you start to jiggle the ice. With the other hand you slowly pour in 7-Up. DO NOT USE SPRITE. DO NOT USE DIET. (I don’t know why, but they don’t work!)

So, as you are pouring, and jiggling, the ice will start to free up from it’s place in the bottom of the glass. Jiggle a little more, then begin swirling the mixture. Still pouring the 7-Up slowly. The mixture will froth and foam... It will expand towards the top of the glass. SLOW DOWN! DON’T POUR TO THE TOP. Pause and give it all a good swirling and wait for the reaction to catch up and see where the foam is headed. If it stops just below the rim of the glass, pour a little hit of 7-Up through the foam to give it a bump up. If it has overflowed (like a root beer float will), wipe down the glass and serve it with a cocktail napkin.

Or perhaps you have stopped just right and... VOILA!

Two perfect Snowballs.

Updated: My brother wrote in to add these fine points on The Snowball.

1. The colder the ice is, the better it works. A little water on the surface of the ice, makes the drink fizz a little less. (so you should always rinse out the glass for a new drink)

2. The key to the drink, is the aroma of the vodka suspended in the foam at the top of the glass, therefore, better top equals better drink.

3. Don't use expensive vodka. It's best if you use whatever Dad brings. It's even better if he wins the bottle at the Elks club.

Updated 2:

Use a metal spoon.

The Snowball season is strict. Snowballs may only be consumed from after Thanksgiving dinner through the end of New Year's Day.

Ohhhhh.... Christmas Tree!

2011-12-15T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 10 days

I always measure before we go to the tree lot. I double check to make certain I know how high my ceiling is. The house we are in now, is 10 feet 6 inches from floor to ceiling in the living room. And we went out and found an 11 foot tree, and told them it HAD to be trimmed to fit 10 feet, 6 inches, Including tree stand.

They delivered it two hours later and as they went to stand it up in the living room it was... close... close... maybe not... maybe yes... WHEW! It just made it by 2 inches from the ceiling!

The 10 ft ladder needed to come in from the garage.

Lyle left just after to go skiing and left me alone to light and decorate the tree. I took that night to light the tree. 3 and half hours to get 3000 twinkle lights on the tree. But I also wanted to add some bubble lights and they take a different kind of light string. So added 4 strings of 25 lights each, C7 bulbs. C7's are the old fashioned indoor lights (C9 are the old fashioned outdoor lights). I stood back and admired the tree... nope. It needed more C7 lights. So Added 4 more strings.

There I was with 3000 twinkle lights, and 200 C7 lights. I was cautious and only plugged 5 strings at time to the twinkle lights. The C7 lights got two strings together then brought back to an extension cord or power strip. I know the fuses in the light strings can blow. I do not want to go in search of those after the tree is decorated!

I utilized extension cords and power strips throughout the tree and brought all the power down to the outlet beneath the tree. This outlet (and one other) had been specially installed in the house on their own circuit just to light the tree. The first year we were in this house, I had to run and extension cord from the garage to light the tree because we couldn't pull that much power from the house AND watch TV.

No more fears, I have my own circuit just for Christmas. After the tree was all set, I plugged the final power strip into the remote clicker switch so I wouldn't have to dive under the tree to turn it on and off. Then I sat back and enjoyed the glow.

I'm all lit up!

Until 2 hours later when the tree turned itself off.

Huh? So I got under the tree, checked the power strip, plugged the lights in direct to the outlet, everything seemed to be working. I put it all back together, extension cords to power strip, power strip to remote clicker, clicker to outlet. All working again... then an hour later, OUT.

I unplugged it all and gave up. Lyle is my electrical guy and he was skiing.

The next day I went out and bought a new remote clicker that had TWO outlets on it and was made for outdoors. I figured that HAD to be okay. And if not, I bought another set of THREE separate clickers as a fall back plan.

I divided the tree electrical into two sets, all the twinkle and all the C7's. I plugged the separate sets one into each of the two new remote clicker outlets. Pretty tree, pretty tree, pretty... tree went out.

I took another break. An hour later I came back to the tree and plugged in all the twinkle into one remote clicker outlet. Then I plugged half the C7's into another remote outlet, and the other half into ANOTHER remote clicker outlet. At last I have the tree lit and able to run without burning out all the remote clickers!
It's impossible to show you the whole tree. My theme this year is "Uptown Country Chic, silver/gold/glitter". The inspiration is that little wreath made of old fashioned looking silver pipe cleaners.As you may be aware, everyone gets a new ornament each year. Mine is the snowy cabin, Lyle's is Mickey on skis.
On the right side, is Mr Cooper's ornament for this year.What's a Christmas tree at my house without an Eiffel Tower ornament?

And if that's not enough, you can try and watch this video I made of the entire tree. It's a little shaky.

Goodyear tires = Christmas

2011-12-14T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 11 days

How old are you? Do you remember snow tires? Do you remember records? Do you know what snow tires and records have in common?

The annual Goodyear Christmas Album!

Goodyear started offering a free record with purchase of snow tires in 1961. 17 albums were released in total. There is a great website that can tell you more about the history of these Christmas records and their tire sponsor (The Great Songs of Christmas).

My dad and my grandfather both worked for an automotive parts store (oddly called "Automotive Parts"). They sold everything even some tires. To this day when I walk into a shop to get my car tires rotated or serviced, I take a deep breath and the smell of oil, grease and tire rubber transports me back to being ten years old sitting at the counter waiting for my dad to get off work and give me ride home from downtown.

But, Automotive Parts did not sell one thing that I needed every year to complete my idea of the perfect Christmas, The Goodyear Tires Christmas record! Luckily, my dad knew people at the Goodyear tire center. He also knew people at the Firestone tire center. We got every tire related Christmas record ever made.

Who would have guessed this crazy future kid who couldn't wait to get the tree decorated each year, was also crazy excited for the snow tires to get put on the car each year.

Check out the headband on Barbra Striesand

There were always 3 great songs, 2 sad sappy songs, a couple of duets, some choral numbers and then some orchestra filler that your parents would enjoy but would bore you. For instance, here's the line up for album 7:

Santa Claus Is Coming to Town (Tony Bennett) - good song.
Toyland (Sally Ann Howes) - sad sappy
The Christmas I Spend With You (Robert Goulet)
Deck the Hall with Boughs of Holly (The Cleveland Orchestra, George Szell Conductor) -orchestra filler
Do You Hear What I Hear (Diahann Carroll)
The Christmas Song (Tony Bennett)
'Twas the Night Before Christmas (Steve Lawrence)
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen (The Brothers Four)
The First Noel (John Davidson)
The Lord's Prayer (Barbra Streisand)
Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer (The Harry Simeone Chorale)
Home for the Holidays (Jerry Vale)
O Little Town of Bethlehem (Sally Ann Howes)
Let Me Be the First (To Wish You Merry Christmas) (Steve Lawrence)
Patapan (The Cleveland Orchestra, George Szell Conductor)
O Come All Ye Faithful (Jerry Vale)
Here We Come A-Caroling (The New Christy Minstrels)
Hark! The Herald Angels Sing (John Davidson)
Christmas Is (The Harry Simone Chorale)
Silent Night (The New Christy Minstrels)

You get the idea. We would play these records over and over all Christmas season. Even though a new one came out each year, we still had personal favorites on last year's record, or the year before that. And the records would get taken out of their sleeve, back in their sleeve, needle dropped on too early, too late... These records suffered abuse!

Years later many of the songs were released in new compilations on CD or mp3 and the sound quality was finally clear and amazing. Except it lost a little something for me. My friend Rachel and I were talking one year about how it just didn't feel the same without scratchy sounds in the background. And so as the music played crystal clear from my iPod in the background, we took turns making noise for the other, "pop, scratch, hiss, pop, scratch, hiss...."

Listen carefully to the first video, you can hear the pop, scratch, his ever so faintly in the background. Now that, is the sound of my childhood.

I've been thinking about Hawaii

2011-12-13T09:41:00.001-08:00

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"Thinking about Hawaii today. "
(taken at Hawaiian Airlines)

Lady, You're no Ebeneezer

2011-12-13T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 12 days

What is it about Christmas that requires me to watch the worst sappy sentimental TV shows?

Just last night I watched "12 Dates for Christmas" which was basically "Groundhog Day" set on Christmas Eve. Every show seems to have the same message, try again to get it right. Estranged from your father? It's not too late to drive to Christmastown and learn about Christmas. Hate your job? Do a feature story on some nutjob who thinks he is Santa and learn the true meaning of Christmas after you meet a handsome man while investigating Santa. Are you a criminal? There's still time to find the true spirit of Christmas and make amends.

Aside from the pure sentimental moments that make me weep (sometimes if they are really bad, I just fast forward to the end to get the predictable final scene and sniffle) I also enjoy figuring out where they are filmed, most often Vancouver, BC.

And then there is the entire genre of "A Christmas Carol" movies. Besides the ones that adhere to the original most closely but change out the actors, there are the comedies Scrooged; musicals, A Christmas Carol: The Musical; animated, Mickey's Christmas Carol, Mister Magoo's Christmas Carol and I don't know what category to place this one, A Muppet Christmas Carol)

Then there is a particularly fascinating sub-genre of the gender flip Christmas Carol. Susan Lucci in Ebbie (filmed in Vancouver), Vanessa Williams in A Diva's Christmas Carol (filmed in Montreal), Cicely Tyson in Ms. Scrooge (filmed in Toronto) and Tori Spelling in A Carol Christmas (filmed in Los Angeles).

Traditionally I watch one sappy Christmas movie a night during December, all by myself, after everyone has gone to bed. Be horrified.

A Diva's Christmas Carol preview

Susan Lucci in Ebbie

Tori Spelling in A Carol Christmas

Ms Scrooge starring Cicely Tyson

How to ruin Christmas

2011-12-12T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 13 days

When I was a child Christmas was the high point of the year for me. All year long you build up to it, then it happens and.... ppfffffttttttt. It's all downhill until July when you can start building up to it again.

My mom asked each of us kids to make a list of what we wanted for Christmas. I want a new bike, that belt we saw at The Golden Rule that you said looked like a hippie, everything on page 62 of the Sears Christmas catalog, everything on pages 73-82 of the Sears Christmas catalog and a puppy.

See that list? It's a list doomed to failure. You are never going to get EVERYTHING off of a page in the catalog. Note that I didn't ask for "anything off of page 62" I asked for EVERYTHING off of page 62. I already had a bike, I was already told "no" to that belt and we had a cat so the puppy thing was not gonna' happen either.

But I held out hope. Though I knew you couldn't wrap a puppy in a box and put him under the tree a week before Christmas, you could always wrap a gift certificate for a puppy and place it under the tree without any ventilation holes and that box could really be any size, it could totally happen.... doomed.

I always tried to find the gifts that were hidden in the house. My mother knew this. Every year she hid the gifts as she brought them into the house. High up in the closet? Hello stepladder. Hidden in her dedicates drawer? Goodbye privacy. I think one year she hid them in my dad's trunk. But she didn't think about going out to dinner and leaving my dad's car at home with a spare set of keys in the cupboard.

Her next plan of attack was to bring the gift home, wrap them immediately and place them under the tree. Here's a tip, don't do that with anything breakable. We picked up and shook every gift under that tree when no one was home.

The last year I cheated and spoiled the surprise of Christmas morning still lives in my head.

My parents were out at the Elk's club on a Saturday night. Just us kids were home. After great discussion, we decided to peek at the gifts under the tree. My mom had a system of hiding who each gift was for, but we found a couple that looked similar and figured out it was "three gift". a gift that all three kids are getting the same, probably in different colors. My sister and I were all for the peeking. My older brother was against it -ish. As in, he was against peeking, against getting caught, but was staying in the room to see what we found, then going to tell us both that we shouldn't have done that.

Wrapping paper was cheap, tape was extra sticky. There was no way to open this without being betrayed. We carefully sliced the tape along one end where we planned to place an exact same size piece of tape back over it after. Of all the 500 things I had carefully selected to appear on my list, which one would this fantastic present turn out to be....?

Colored pencils.

That wasn't on my list. And there weren't even pencils that drew in color. They were regular pencils that were painted a swirling faux marble pattern on the outside. So disappointing. My sister and I started to argue about opening more presents, to try and find a really good one. My brother freaked out that we were all going to get caught. The pencils got taped back up and placed exactly back under the tree where they had been.

Two days later I had to give my Oscar winning performance of opening up aforementioned faux marble swirl pencils and acting excited, surprised and not disappointed in the least that it wasn't a gift certificate for a puppy.

By 2 pm I had stormed to my room, thrown all my gifts outside my door, especially those rotten pencils and screamed that CHRISTMAS SUCKS!!! Because I hadn't gotten ANYTHING I had asked for on my list! Not pretty.

But there is hope. In January, my mom and I discussed just exactly what the hell is wrong with me. We figured out that after Christmas there is nothing to look forward to. My birthday is 11 months away, so is Halloween, and no one really gives enough attention or candy on Valentine's Day or any other Spring celebrations. Then we talked about my unrealistic expectations of getting everything on my list. Next year my mom included me in a lot more of her Christmas shopping so I could see what everyone else was getting and adjust my expectations to match. And we planned something fun to happen in January to look forward to.

My mother also explained to me that she spends $50 per child each year. That was her limit. No bike, no carpet, no full catalog pages were ever going to be purchased with a budget of $50. You can probably guess what I said next. You could probably say it with me.

Puppies are free.
"Not after you unwrap them."

The care and feeding of poinsettias

2011-12-11T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 14 days

In the old days, when you still went to the mall in your covered wagon, I worked in the visual department at Nordstrom. In the old days, when store visuals were deemed important, the Christmas trim was a big deal. In the old days, when there was money in the budget, they really spent it on fluffing the store out to its fullest.

At my first store, after I helped install the Christmas trim, my ongoing job for the rest of the month was to come back and water the poinsettias. Then I moved to Los Angeles, and I started over at the bottom of the display totem pole. After I helped install Christmas, I got to come back and water the poinsettias. In the old covered wagon days of retail, a full size 3 floor Nordstrom would have around 600 poinsettia plants.

They were everywhere. They arrived from the grower on Thanksgiving Eve while the store was in full Christmas change over. 6 plants in a box, 100 boxes, on the receiving dock, in the way. They needed to be moved off the dock, into the store, still out of the way, and then every single one of them opened and placed in the store.
Inside the big cardboard box there are 6 poinsettia plants. Each plant is wrapped in a paper sleeve cone. Fastest way to remove sleeve, hold base of pot with left hand, pull sleeve down onto left arm revealing plant. Full fluffy plants got prominently displayed in single tera cotte pots all over the store. Slightly smaller, broken, or shabby plants (you've got 600, there are bound to be a few) get mixed into planter boxes around the escalators or up high on the cosmetic ledges. It is one person's job for the entire set up night to manage the poinsettia crew.

Poinsettias have a milky white sap that is very sticky and after a few hours quite itchy. At my house we call them "red weeds" (that's the polite term). For ten years I did not allow them in my home. About 2 years ago, I relented.

This is a video of the pants being packed up at the nursery, it made my hands and arms itch.

It is an never ending dance to keep them alive inside a cool at night, warm by day, get no sunshine indoor environment.

Here's my secret: Poinsettias like to be teased.

They don't want too much water. They don't want too little water. Do not water them every day. Do not water them every other day. Water them every 3 days. When you do, don't give them too much water. Give them about 2/3 of what you would give a normal plant.

If you have one by a heat vent, one by the window, one in a dark corner, rotate them once a week with each other. I know your poinsettia came in a pretty foil wrapper that looks oh so festive, but please, put it in a real pot with a saucer. If you can't do that, at least take the price tag off the foil wrapper.

If you follow these simple instructions, you're plant will still be healthy and happy when you take down Christmas in January... and since you've taken down the rest of Christmas, please do me a favor, take your poinsettia outside and THROW IT AWAY.

Bored in the car

2011-12-10T14:53:00.001-08:00

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"Everyone agrees, car rides are boring. "
(taken at 210 Fwy)

A Charlie Brown Christmas

2011-12-10T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 15 days

A Charlie Brown Christmas, 1965

I have a soft spot for Charlie Brown and Snoopy. One of my favorite Christmas TV specials is A Charlie Brown Christmas. The soundtrack is amazing, it's one of those rare albums you can put on repeat and not be annoyed with in 3 hours. In four hours, yes. But not in three.

Charlie Brown is not who i identify with in this show, I'm so much more a Snoopy. Over decorate, dance like no one is watching, swoop in at the end and sing along. Yeah, that was me as a kid.

I remember when children's Christmas specials were on CBS, you'd see this:

and then you'd shout, "HURRY!!! It's ON!!!" we didn't have Tivo back when I was a kid. You could only watch this special when it was "special". Just watch the first 20 seconds of this clip, and you will be reminded that for many years this special was sponsored by Dolly Madison.

After Charlie Brown came How the Grinch Stole Christmas. You had 2 minutes for everyone in the house to jump up, get more snacks, pee, get a drink, and then get back to your spot on the couch. "Mom! Gary stole my spot! That's my spot! Give me back MY SPOT! The show is starting! Shhhhhhh....."

I'm not a Scrooge, it's self preservation

2011-12-09T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 16 days

I don't do gifts. Actually I do gifts. I don't do Christmas gifts. I just spent $200 on Christmas gifts last weekend. I don't do Christmas gifts like I used to and I don't put the same expectations on them that I used to. I go to stores and stand there with my hands on things, panic, and run from the store...

Christmas gift giving is a minefield for me.

I have this problem in my brain that I am required to buy you a gift for as close to $20 as possible, that sums up how I feel about you and what you have meant to me over the past year or lifetime. A lifetime of love, caring and sentiment wrapped up for around $20. No, my expectations aren't a little off. They're COMPLETELY WHACKED.

About ten years ago I had done the impossible. I had gone out and found THE PERFECT gift for everyone in my family, brothers, sister, mother, father, wives, husbands, nieces, nephew and grandmother. I had also done the same for my husband's family. EVERYONE on both sides of our families had been purchased the PERFECT gift. The PERFECT gift had then been PERFECTLY wrapped and PERFECTLY packed for shipping to the farthest flung places on the earth from Los Angeles: Seattle and Northern Alberta.

There was on little problem, I hadn't finished this task on December 1st. I had finished it on December 21st.

There was a lesson I had learned years before, there are few problems money can't solve. I drove over to FedEx to get my parcels to their destinations overnight. Problem solved.

On the 22nd, I was waiting to hear that the package had arrived. I checked the tracking system and the packages... were still in LA. My heart began to race. This can't be. This is wrong. I paid to get them there OVERNIGHT. But apparently I had no control over the packages once I let go of them and FedEx explained that they had no control over the Snow storm that had crippled their distribution center in Tennessee.

Breathe I told myself. It's only the 22nd. You've got 2 more days.

The packages moved overnight, Hooray! They moved to San Francisco, Boo!

I monitored the packages all day on the 23rd. San Francisco, San Francisco, San Francisco... then one package moved... EDMONTON! One package had made it out of the country! And then it was held by customs.

So there I was on the 24th, Christmas Eve. One package was in Edmonton waiting to be released by customs so it could make it's last leg of the trip another 5 hours away by truck. It absolutely, definitely wasn't gong to be there on time.

The other package was still in San Francisco waiting for a group of friends to be released from Tennessee to join it and make it's final trip to Seattle. Apparently it didn't want to travel alone. Tennessee still had snow issues.

I'd had it. I phoned FedEx and began to rip into whoever had the misfortune of answering the phone. I can't write what I said to them, mostly because I don't remember. I know I used my scary low mean voice. I know I was sarcastic. I know I pleaded. And I recall saying this phrase, "You have ruined my Christmas. This is the worst day of my life. I don't care how awful I am to you, my life is over and if I'm going down, I'm taking as many of you people as I can down with me!"

That's when Lyle took the phone away from me by force.

I ran to the bathroom and cried until I threw up. Then I held onto the cold porcelain of the toilet to dry my tears and cool my face. Lyle came in to give me a status update,

The Alberta package has cleared customs. It will be personally walked from FedEx to the last passenger plane leaving for Grande Prairie tonight. My sister Cheryl will meet that plane and those presents will arrive on time.

The Seattle package will arrive on Christmas morning. The distribution center will be open from 8 am to noon. Your brother in law will drive down and pick up the package so that your gifts will be opened on Christmas day.

This is the last year. The last year we are doing this. Get your shopping done by December 1st, or we are doing online gift certificates for everyone.

And then he left me to wash my face off and pull myself together.

When I came out to my beautifully decorated home, there was Christmas music playing, candles lit and a 24 piece chocolate champagne truffle box on the dining room table. Lyle opened a bottle of expensive champagne he had been saving for Christmas day, "I think we need this now," he said. We sat and looked at the tree, the presents under the tree, our dogs and our $200 meal of just champagne and chocolates. "Is this dinner?" I asked. "Costs more than most people are having tonight, so yes. Bon appetite."

That was the last year I did FedEx for Christmas. It's not really fair to the workers of FedEx to put my pressure on them. It was also the last year I bought for everyone. I still buy gifts. I buy things as I see them, I put them in the closet and save them. I give them out whenever I feel like it. My relationship with Christmas gifts is complex, it's not fair, and now that I've confessed my sins here in this public forum, I need a drink and chocolate truffle.

Hallelujah Chorus

2011-12-08T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 17 days

It will come as no surprise that I was in Choir in High School. All four years (okay, all five if you count that last year I had to go back, let's not go there right now). Though there were rules about separation of church and state, our choir director got around all those by claiming significant historical musical traditions and had us sing all sorts of religious music for the "winter concert formerly known as Christmas.

There were two big showstopping numbers the choir performed every year. The Hallelujah Chorus and Silent Night. You know, those songs with significant historical musical traditions and no religious overtones. The finale was always Silent Night performed acapella. Our conductor wore a black suit with a white shirt and stood in front of the choir. As we sang, the lights slowly dimmed and our conductor would adjust his suit jacket to reveal more of his white shirt cuffs so we could see his hands. As the lights dimmed, a large stylized star lit with Christmas lights would slowly lower from the ceiling. (I remember one year the wire broke and it was only held aloft by the extension cord powering the lights. Try to not laugh while you watch the star of Bethlehem jiggle its way into place. But you see, there is no religious overtones there. It was just us, singing a song of significant historical musical traditions, that's all.

My favorite song to sing came before Silent Night. It was the BIG FINALE (Silent Night was apparently the non-religious contemplative song to send you on your way). For the Hallelujah Chorus all the music department came together, Band, Orchestra and Choir. Choir alumni were also encouraged to come onstage and join in.

The song is a KILLER. Every section is stretched to it's limit, the sopranos have to reach the end of their range and so do the tenors. The Altos and basses must get as low as they can. For months we practiced and then THE night arrives. The song takes on a life of its own running wild and fast. With orchestra and band added in its an unwieldy beast of a song. There will be no surprises that I sang tenor. And there are two moments in the middle where we are required to reach the highest note of the year and all you do is pray your voice won't crack. If you ever hear it live, you'll know right where this is, the choir usually gets just little quieter as those who know they won't make it just drop off. It doesn't matter, I still love it.

White Christmas

2011-12-07T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 18 days

White Christmas, 1954

Well who doesn't love this movie? It would be like saying you don't love It's A Wonderful Life, it would mean you have no heart. The movie is full of classic moments. I love the kitsch of Rosemary Clooney and Vera Ellen singing "Sisters".

Which is immediately outdone by Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye lipsynching the same routine.

Sentimental schlock and missed communication follow. with my favorite tear filled scene coming near the end where all the vets who served under the general converge on his Vermont Lodge for Christmas. (Where did they stay? Who fed them? Where are their families? Did they all get drink and go carousing into town later? Never mind...)

And then the BIG finale where the walls open up to reveal the winter wonderland outside. That would be SO COLD!

Who cares, it's gorgeous, it's on a sound stage, and now all my Christmas moments where I dress in red with white fur trim are going to pale in comparison. At least I can still fit an orchestra in my living room for my Christmas singing. Hey, wait a minute...

The Skater's Waltz

2011-12-06T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 19 days

Christmastime is often called a "magical" time. There are millions of images and expectations on how to create the "perfect" holiday. I am here to tell you that perfection comes with a price. There are no magic elves that decorate the house. Someone has to bake all those cookies. Presents don't purchase themselves with money that grows on trees.

As a kid I didn't understand all that yet. Why can't we have more lights on the house? Where are all the cookies that look exactly like in this book? Why can't I have a new bike AND a trip to Disneyland? I believed the hype which made me certain to be disappointed. My parents did their best to give me the wonder of Christmas, then quickly backpedaled when they realized they needed to show me the dirty underbelly of how Christmas works.

I remember being around 14 or so and my mom and I were getting ready to bake cookies. It sounds like one of those magical Hallmark moments that memories are made of. What you need to know is that my mother was one of those people who ran a very tight schedule and this was THE DAY she had put aside FOUR HOURS to get all those cookies DONE. She was (and still is) a firm believer in the adage, "if you're going to make a mess in the kitchen, make it worth your time, make it a BIG mess."

There we were in the middle of the kitchen, four hours on the clock, tensions mounting as ingredients were pulled out and matched up to recipes (oh yes, we'd be making ALL the season's cookies in four hours or less). I don't remember what the topic was (no one ever remembers) but we started to argue. That's too much, that's not enough, you don't have time, I want that one, you can't have it, this sucks, you're not very grateful, fine I don't want to help, fine you get no cookies this year, good because these suck... and then "it" arrived.

On the stereo in the background came on The Skater's Waltz.

I gasped (yes, I know, how dramatic), "I love this song!" and I grabbed my mother's hand and began to "skate" around her in my stocking feet. My mother started to laugh and pull her hand away to get back to her baking, "C'mon mom! Skate with me!" and I pulled her down the hallway. We skated through the house, around into the living room where we spun around in bigger circles, then made our way back to through the dining room and into the kitchen. The song ended, I bowed to my partner, "You're so much fun," said my mother. "Thank you for the skate, kind lady," I replied. Forgetting our conflict of 3 minutes before, we put our aprons on and returned to our cookies.

This song always takes me back to that day. I still skate in my socks.

Mele Kalikimaka

2011-12-05T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 20 days

I don't know why, but I love Christmas songs I know by heart in a foreign language.

L'Enfant Au Tambour (The Little Drummer Boy), Noël Blanc (White Christmas), J'ai vu mama (I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus), Les Anges Dans Nos Campagnes (Angels We Have Heard on High), Promenade En Traineau (Sleigh Ride), Écoutez la voix des Anges (Hark, The Herald) Sainte Nuit (Silent Night) and in a double whammy, I have a traditional German song sung in French, Mon Beau Sapin (O Tannenbaum).

And then there is the section of what I call "International" songs. Marlene Dietrich singing the Little Drummer Boy in German, Abba singing a Swedish Christmas song, Feliz Navidad by Jose Feliciano, 白い雪とシャンパンとX'mas by The Brilliant Green, and of course Mele Kalikimaka from Hawaii.

As I travel, I still pop in to a local CD shop and try to grab some Christmas music I will never find at home. You've caught me, I'm a music hoarder.

A blue Christmas

2011-12-04T10:09:00.001-08:00

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"Blue Christmas trees in Paris "
(taken at Paris, France)

A Year Without a Santa Claus

2011-12-04T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 21 days

A Year without a Santa Claus

Rankin/Bass produced many of the beloved tv specials of the American Christmas season. The Year Without a Santa Claus was made in 1974 in their style of stop motion animation.

Shirley Booth is Mrs. Claus and Mickey Rooney is Santa. Santa believes that nobody cares about Christmas and decides to take this year off. Jingle and Jangle take a flying reindeer to "Southtown" to find someone who still believes in Christmas. They run afoul of the law and to free the reindeer (disguised as a dog now) they must prove they are Santa's elves by making it snow in Southtown on Christmas day.

Let's pause here and note a few inconsistencies, No one is going to believe a reindeer is a dog, no matter how much you disguise it, not even as a Great Dane. as for making it snow in Southtown? Uh, it snows in the south all the time.

Mrs. Claus gets involved and goes to the two controllers of all weather, Heat Miser and Snow Miser. When they won't compromise and help her, Mrs. Claus goes to their mother, Mother Nature (who at the time was also selling margarine on tv) who forces them to compromise.

It's all so silly and overly complicated. Even as a child I thought this was a stupid plot. I watched it anyway because it has the best musical numbers brought to you courtesy of Snow Miser and Heat Miser.

The tree has arrived!

2011-12-03T20:08:00.001-08:00

We rearranged the living room furniture starting last Wednesday to make room for the incoming Christmas tree. As usual, we picked on out by height (10.5' tall) but forgot to measure around. Oh well, no one needs to get into the living room anyway.

Check it out!

2011-12-03T16:45:00.000-08:00

This is a shameless plug for my (much older) brother's new blog about music.

Gary Listens To Music

It's a personal blog about what music means (or doesn't mean) to him. Go on, give it a whirl.

Christmas wishes can come true...

2011-12-03T09:47:00.001-08:00

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"Oh Santa, I've been VERY good!!!"

Me and my drum...

2011-12-03T08:55:00.001-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 23 days

Did you know that there are over 220 different versions of The Little Drummer Boy?

I have 44 of them.

Alvin & the Chipmunks
Andy Williams
Anne Murray
Anthony Rapp & Everett Bradley
Beck (the Little Drum Machine)
Bing Crosby & David Bowie (Peace On Earth/Little Drummer Boy)
Brenda Lee
Burl Ives
Chicago
The Dandy Warhols
Diana Ross & The Supremes
Dolly Parton
Frank Sinatra
Harry Connick Jr
Harry Simeone Choral - The one you know and love.
Henry Mancini
Jack Latnier (L'Enfant Au Tambour)
The Jackson 5
Jars Of Clay
Jessica Simpson & Ashlee Simpson
Joan Jett + The Blackhearts - If you're going to re-do a classic, this is the way to do it.
John Denver
John Williams & The Boston Pops Orchestra
Johnny Cash - One of my least favorite versions. He cheats you out of many par-um-pa-ba-bums.
Johnny Mathis
Lena Horne
Lennon Sisters
Les Dragobert (L'Enfant Au Tambour)
Linda Eder
Mannheim Steamroller
Marlene Dietrich - One of my favorite versions.
Neil Diamond
Norma Luboff Choir
Peggy Lee
Percy Faith
RuPaul
Take 6
Temptations
Tennessee Ernie Ford
Tori Amos
Vanessa Williams
The Vienna Boys Choir
Whitney Houston
98 Degrees

Before you judge me, I do not listen to every single version. But I have collected them all into one 3 hour playlist. If you push me, I will force you to listen to it. It's right there next to my "Don't Cry For Me Argentina playlist that has 18 songs and goes for an hour and half.

Christmas fireworks over Sleeping Beauty's castle

2011-12-02T22:12:00.001-08:00

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"Ironically, they played Silent Night, with fireworks. "
(taken at Disneyland)

Deck the halls with mouse ears

2011-12-02T16:21:00.001-08:00

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"A very Disney Christmas"
(taken at Disneyland)

The Little Boy That Santa Claus Forgot

2011-12-02T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 22 days

I don't want you to get the impression that my family or I are big weepers. Especially not during the Christmas season. But this song makes me cry every time I hear it. This song makes me cry when I try to say the words out loud. It also makes my sister cry and therefore is used as weapon between us.

Each year we try to phone the other person early in the holiday season (but still not be too obviously EARLY) and play this song over the phone to the other. If you are the phone-r, you get to steel yourself against the inevitability of the tears about to fall. If the phone-ee, you are ambushed in the middle of your day, reduced to tears.

He's the little boy that Santa Claus forgot,
And goodness knows, he didn't want a lot.

He sent a note to Santa
For some soldiers and a drum,
It broke his little heart
When he found Santa hadn't come.

In the street he envies all those lucky boys,
Then wanders home to last year's broken toys.
I'm so sorry for that laddie,
He hasn't got a daddy,
The little boy that Santa Claus forgot.

Spoken:
(You know, Christmas comes but once a year for every girl and boy,
The laughter and the joy they find in each brand new toy.
I'll tell you of a little boy that lives across the way...
This little fella's Christmas is just another day.
He's the little boy that Santa Claus forgot,
And goodness knows, he didn't want a lot.)

In the street he envies all those lucky boys,
Then wanders home to last year's broken toys.
I'm so sorry for that laddie,
He hasn't got a daddy,
The little boy that Santa Claus forgot.

Neither one of us can get past the lyrics, I feel so sorry for that laddie, he hasn't got a... And the tears flow.

So, for my sister, who I know is reading this, I dedicate this post to you.

Please Christmas Don't Be Late

2011-12-01T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 24 days

WOW. It's December. Even people who aren't big fans of Christmas and try to hold back have to admit that once the calendar flips to the word "DECEMBER" it officially Christmas season.

As a child I wanted Christmas to last FOREVER, but it never did. It's not just the decorations (although I do love a good "more is more" decor) and it's not the gifts (but i am still accepting them). For me, a lot of the enjoyment of the season comes from the heightened awareness people give to being kind to one another. This obviously doesn't apply to shopping mall parking lots.

In the past few years we have made a conscious effort to shop less. See people more, decorate like crazy, but what do any of of us need that we don't already have?

But I can't deny, I love this advertisement:

I was that kid. Although receiving presents was a huge a deal for me, I was really keen on the giving of the perfect gift that summed up everything I felt about a person over the course of a lifetime, purchased withing the limits of the $20 limit, that then needed to be received as the HOLY GRAIL of gift giving perfection.

That is one of the items that eventually drove me to seek therapy.

Crazy for Christmas

2011-11-30T09:13:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 25 days

I have always been crazy for Christmas. And by crazy, I mean completely over the top with ideas, fantasies, expectations and decorations. Of those things, decorations is really the only one I had control over. So decorations at my house have always been out of control.

As the youngest child I was the driving force behind getting our house decorated. I would drag out all the boxes I could from upstairs to downstairs. If the box was too big I would take the items out individually and carry them down the stairs on their own. No one helped me. I'm not certain if they didn't help because they didn't want to, or if they didn't help so they could just stay the hell out of my way.

Everything had it's own place: Felty Santa with the shiny boot that always fell off, he goes in the nook above the furnace vent; Music box on the shelf underneath Santa; Plastic light up Santa head, that goes in the front window of the dining room; light up plastic bells go in the side window of the dining room; ceramic Santa sleigh that belonged to my great-grandmother and the lead dear was missing half of front leg, that goes in my room!

My mother was no help. She fed my addiction. When I was 8 she came up with an idea to buy a special ornament for each family member. The ornament would be dated with your name on it and when you moved out you would have an entire tree decor ready for your new home. I took this to heart and immediately chose my theme for the rest of my life, Snoopy and Peanuts. Two years later I abandoned that theme and went for the one that actually stuck, the most expensive ornament in the store.

Not much has changed since I was 8. I still gravitate to the most expensive ornament in the store, I still get all the boxes out by myself (some people are so uncooperative with hauling Christmas decor out on November 1st) and I still pretty much decorate the house all by myself and I don't know if it's because no one wants to help me or if they just want to stay the hell out of my way. Okay, I lied, I know for a fact they just want to stay the hell out of my way.

I've turned my obsession into a a career at one point working for Nordstrom installing Christmas decor, and I've also helped decorate Richard Simmons's house for Christmas.
My theory has always been, it's not done until its OVERDONE. You'd think that would be okay, but come the week after Christmas, I'm exhausted, the house is over decorated, and no one wants to take down all that stuff and put it away.

Last year Lyle bribed me with a trip to Paris in December if I would decorate less. I agreed to doing just a tree. Right before Christmas our very special puppy, Lola, passed away. I couldn't imagine decorating like usual. Getting the tree up was a chore. For the first time in my life, I was not Christmas crazy.
On the plane ride to Paris I was reading a book called "Tinsel" by Hank Stuever. The book is all about the crazy lengths people go through in a Texas town to decorate and celebrate Christmas. From one year during the boom times, followed by one year during a much leaner time. Then we were in Paris and though the retail stores did amazing window displays, the way the Parisians seem to celebrate Christmas is much more understated than I do.

I went in to one of the biggest retailers in Paris and found their Christmas decoration selling area. I was keen to buy my fantastical Paris 2010 ornament. I came out of the shop empty handed. "Nothing good?" Lyle asked. I have more individual unique ornaments at home, than they have in total stock of the most boring ornaments repeated in there, I was so sad.

And that's when it began to dawn on me. My way of celebrating and decorating for Christmas is unique. Unique to where I live. I have loads of storage space. All that Christmas decor has to live somewhere when it is not on display (33 plastic totes in the basement, a king size bed space of greenery in the garage). Who has that kind of space in Paris? In Manhattan? Who has that much time and money to invest in all this stuff?
Don't get me wrong. I am still crazy for Christmas. But I am trying to bring my level down to just crazy and no longer INSANE.

Last year, tear down was easy, strip the tree and you're done. I liked that. This year I have a lot going on in my world and I am attempting to scale down the crazy once again. We will get a tree this weekend, light it, decorate it like there is no tomorrow, then step back and take stock. A couple of additional items on the mantel, the dining room table... I think I will be done.

Of course, that being said, you just KNOW that ONE tree we do get is going to be OVER THE TOP.

Maurice Sendak, The Nutcracker

2011-11-29T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 26 days

If you live anywhere near Seattle in December, I encourage you to go and see the Pacific Northwest Ballet's production of The Nutcracker, with sets by Maurice Sendak. I love this production!

To be fair, I love the music of the Nutcracker and would gladly go see any production. But this production, with these sets and costumes, is cemented in my mind and the perfect combination of childlike whimsy that brings the music to life.

There is a interesting article on how Maurice Sendak became involved in this project. Here is an excerpt:

Sendak's first professional encounter with Nutcracker came when he was approached by the Pacific Northwest Ballet to re-create the original E.T.A. Hoffmann story for their 1983 stage production.

At first Sendak balked, wanting to avoid what he considered a predictable project. Through conversations with Northwest Pacific Ballet Artistic Director Kent Stowell, Sendak became inspired to overcome his initial perceptions of the work as the "most bland and banal of ballets" and take a "leap into the unknown."

During his research, he discovered that the version familiar to most modern audiences, "is smoothed out, bland, and utterly devoid not only of difficulties but of the weird, dark qualities that make it something of a masterpiece," Sendak writes in the introduction to Nutcracker.

All I Want For Christmas Is You

2011-11-28T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 27 days

As much as I love those classic holiday memories of listening to LP records with their pop, hiss, scratch from overplay while Julie Andrews sings O Little Town of Bethlehem, I have plenty of love for pop Christmas music. Mariah Carey singing "All I Want For Christmas Is You" is high, WAY HIGH, on my list of pop Christmas tunes.

TV movie: The Homecoming - A Christmas Story, 1971

2011-11-27T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 28 days

Before it was a TV series, it was TV movie of the week.

The Homecoming: A Christmas Story, 1971

The Walton family is about to celebrate another Christmas. It's the '30s and it's the Depression. Father John Walton promised to be home but seems to be late. When John hasn't showed for hours, Ma sends John-Boy out to find him. Will John ever get home to celebrate Christmas with his family?

I loved Patricia Neal as the Mother of the Walton clan. My favorite scene is when John-Boy brings home two bottles from the Baldwin sisters and his mother, assuming it was bootleg hooch, demands he pour it out in the snow. This is another TV movie my sister and I lived for and once again, it is difficult to find on broadcast television.

My Tannenbaum

2011-11-26T20:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 29 days

(This is our tree from 2008)

THE TREE!!!!

There is nothing that says Christmas to me as much as The Tree. My history of tree worship is well documented (previous blog entry) and I have worked hard to move beyond that. I have come to realize that I put so many lights and ornaments on whatever tree we get, that no matter what it will be perfect. I even have special ornaments that are larger to fill any space that has a gap.

Decide for yourself, but for me, it has to be a live tree. The smell of the tree, the lights of the tree, the space it takes up in our living room... I can't get the tree in this house fast enough. Today will be our tree hunting day.

Once the tree has been selected, paid for, and delivered to the house, I will put on my special tree decorating playlist and begin the lighting. The lighting will take one entire day. Okay, it just takes 4 hours (or so) but at the end of that 4 hours (or so) I will be done in. Ornaments will be added later.

Here is my Christmas Tree playlist:
We Need A Little Christmas - Angela Landsbury
All I Want For Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey
O Christmas Tree - Aretha Franklin
Holly Leaves & Christmas Trees - Elvis Presley
The Tree - Peggy Lee
Jingle Bells - Ella Fitzgerald
One Little Christmas Tree - Stevie Wonder
It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas - Dionne Warwick
O Christmas Tree (O Tannenbaum) - The Chipmucks
Rockin around the Christmas tree - Brenda Lee
'Round And 'Round The Christmas Tree - Bing Crosby
Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) - Darlene Love
Kissin' By The Mistletoe - Aretha Franklin
O Tannenbaum - Vince Guaraldi Trio
My Christmas Tree - Home Alone Soundtrack
(Everybody's Waitin' For) The Man With The Bag - Kay Starr
Christmas Trees And Holly Leaves - Holly Cole
Christmas Tree (Greensleeves) - The Chipmucks
I Want A Hippopotamus For Xmas - Gayla Peevey (Lyle loves this song!)
Christmas Wrapping - Waitresses
The Happiest Christmas Tree - Nat King Cole

O Tannenbaum, The Vienna Boys Choir

2011-11-25T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 30 days

I've got about 1700 "holiday" songs in my iTunes. According to the play counter, O Tannenbaum by The Vienna Boys Choir is one of the most played Christmas songs in my library. Which makes sense because I love old timey classic Christmas music from those Goodyear Tire Christmas collections, and Lyle likes boys choirs singing Christmas.

The pie makers

2011-11-24T12:18:00.001-08:00

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"The boys are making apple pie together. "

TV movie: The Gathering, 1977

2011-11-24T08:55:00.000-08:00

Countdown to Christmas 30 days

I thought I would attempt a little something here with the blog. I've got Christmas thought a plenty and they fill my head. So I thought I would blog for the next THIRTY days about Christmas. Hold on tight, this sled don't stop until Christmas!

The Gathering, 1977

When Adam Thornton (Ed Asner) learns he has two months to live, he decides to make peace with his family. The problem is, his family isn't exactly fond of him due to the fact that he walked out on his wife four years ago and he hasn't spoken to his youngest son since he fled to Canada to avoid the draft. When his doctor says he can't travel to reconcile with each of his children, his wife (Maureen Stapleton) suggests that they invite them all for Christmas. Will they all show up?

This movie is hard to find on broadcast TV. Probably because its total late 70's schmaltz. My sister and I used to stay up late during the Christmas season and we would always find this movie and then cry all the way through it.

Not much has changed. I watched this last night and knowing where it was headed, I started to cry during the opening credits. I can't even wear my glasses when I watch this movie as it pulls at my emotions like a well oiled machine.

I've added a clip here, but if you think you may watch this, skip it. It's THE MOMENT towards the end of the film and it will spoil all the hard work the director put in to manipulating your emotions. If you already seen it (hint, hint, my sister Debbie) make sure you have a Kleenex handy.

Mr Coopers Balls

2011-11-23T11:11:00.000-08:00

Our precious little angel, Mr Cooper is a rescue dog. He had a hard start in this life and he is very lucky to have found us (and we feel the same back at him). One thing I discovered early on was that he LOVES a squeaky ball. LOVES IT!
So I promised him that every morning he could have a brand new still squeaking squeaky ball. He has a very rigid schedule. Get up, go pee. Eat breakfast, go poop. Run inside, wait for ball. Then it's ball, ball, ball, ball, ball, ball, ball.... up and down the hallway squeaking, squeaking, squeaking, squeaking, squeaking, squeaking, squeaking... it's only good if someone can hear it. After about 3-5 minutes, the squeaker is pulled out and the ball is slobbered into submission.

Tomorrow will be the same. And the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that...

Originally I found the Kong squeaky balls at Target. They were about $1.35 per ball. Each time I'd give Cooper a ball I'd say, "Here's your $1.35, don't play in the street." But they were always running out and I was being forced to go from store to store, buying all they had and perpetuating the curse of them always being out. That's when I started to look online.

I found the BEST place to get Mr Cooper's balls: DogSupplies.Com

I am not getting anything in return for this post. I am just telling you if you have pets, this place is great. I now order 100 balls at a time and the price has come down to .83¢ a ball.

They are currently running a "Black Friday" special where you can enter BLACK in the discount code and get an additional 11% off your purchase.

I share all this because I want them to stay in business so I can continue to get Mr Cooper's balls for such a good price. After all, Mr Cooper loves his balls, what man doesn't?

Christmas Creeping

2011-11-22T08:55:00.000-08:00

Recently there was a flurry of people posting this sign from the entryway of a Nordstrom store,
Bravo! Way to go! Good for them! Or as I said, "Poor things."

You see, in a former life, I was a Christmas Elf. Not the kind that stands next to Santa and places your screaming child on his lap. No, I was a display person at Nordstrom.

It was my dream job and I was thrilled to get it. I started in the summer and had no idea of what was coming my way in November. My first job was at a "mini-Nordstrom" in my home town. A scaled down version called Place Two, that was basically Cosmetics, Men's and Ladies Shoes, Brass Plum and Brass Rail with a few other clothing items thrown in to round out the mix. It was one floor.

My first Christmas trim began in October. Aisle Units (those things that hang over the aisle) and column wraps were built, fluffed, and then stuck out of the way to wait their turn to go up. The funny part of "out of the way" at Nordstrom nearing Christmas is there is no "out of the way". Every single stockroom and floor space is packed with back stock merchandise for the holiday sales event of the decade.

When we received our wreaths thee was nowhere for them to go, we placed some in the personal office and some in the store manager's office. No space was safe from display.

The windows get a transfer on the outside of the glass and we were allowed to close them the week of Thanksgiving. This way we could spend all day Monday and Tuesday installing our two windows, leave them covered on Wednesday and then reveal them late Wednesday night in time for Thanksgiving reveal. How lucky we were to only have two windows. Imagine having a store with 12 windows (oh yes, that was my life later).

On to the main event. On Wednesday while most people are scurrying around to get their Thanksgiving dinner supplies in order, we slept in until eleven. The visual staff arrives at the store between Noon and three. At 5:00 there is an announcement that Nordstrom wishes you all a Happy Thanksgiving and reminder that we will be closing tonight at 6 pm to prepare for the upcoming holidays, we will reopen at 8 am on Friday for your shopping convenience.

Take a deep breath. ALL HELL IS ABOUT TO BE SET LOOSE.

That 5 pm announcement is the foil ripped off the champagne bottle. Every single department in the store has not been able to show a single Christmas item yet. They are all in the back stockrooms along with signs and pressed holiday table cloths (courtesy of the display team). 5 pm means they can start cheating those totes out. 5 pm means that display can start lining items up behind the doors.

5:30 pm, the early closing announcement is repeated. Basically the cage is off the champagne bottle top. Its unpredictable now. Anyone could just loosen that cork and POP, pandemonium! But no.... the store manager is there. He is walking around reminding people that we are still open. Customers first. No totes on the floor.

The problem is, every single employee in the store is stuck there until their floor has been re-set for Friday morning. No one can leave until released by the store manager. Some will be there until 8 pm. Some until 10 pm. If you are leaving town for Thanksgiving, too bad. If people are counting on you to cook tomorrow, no prep time for you tonight. And that is the pact with the devil that you make when you beg for a job in retail for minimum wage plus commission.

6 pm, "Ladies and gentlemen, Nordstrom is now closed. Please join us on Friday when we reopen at 8 am. Thank you."

POP! That cork is OFF! Everyone breaks into a run for the stockroom doors. Rolling racks, totes, and here comes display with EVERYTHING THEY CAN MOVE ON WHEELS. I'd call it controlled chaos, but let's be honest, there is very little control.

And there we were. Two display people and an additional 10 we had recruited from friends and co-workers. We would work from noon that day until 6 am the following morning. Windows revealed, cosmetic ledges filled (that's the space inside the cosmetic islands), wreaths up, column units up, aisle units up... then down, then up... Everything is pre-prepared to look it's best but has now been sitting for anywhere from a week to a month in storage somewhere. Now it has to be fluffed again. Last minute trim items added. Everything is wired to the display so it can't fall off. Every power cord hidden in the ceiling, painted out to match, timers attached to make the lights go on and off on schedule.

The loading bay doorbell rings, "Live tree delivery!" The 12' "live" tree has been painted over with a hearty dark green (probably lead based) non-flammable paint. The certificate will need to be kept on file in the office and it will be checked by the fire department. Since the tree couldn't arrive early, it is not lit nor decorated. That will take 2 people the entire evening.

At midnight we take a break. The last of the sales floor staff left about 11 pm. Now it's just the die-hard visual crew. We wash our hands (they are FILTHY) and eat a late dinner of sandwiches. No one is allowed to order turkey for fear of it making them sleepy. Caffeinated sodas abound.

Back to work by 12:30. Everything hurts. Up the ladder, down the ladder. My boss was brilliant when she told me to bring a second pair of shoes for the night. I change and feel like I have brand new feet on, for about an hour.

As tasks are completed, we send people home. The 12' tree is finished around 1:30, that crew goes home. By about 2 am there's only 4 people left. We open the mall door and go out into the corridor and scrape off the "At Nordstrom... we won't be decking our halls until Friday..." sticker on the window. On Friday, HA! It's Wednesday... no wait, now it's Thursday, oh Happy Thanksgiving... not.

The windows are revealed, and adjusted. We stand outside the front door and look over the store as the customers will see it first thing at 8 am on Friday morning.
"Cord hanging funny on 2nd column wrap."
"2nd Aisle unit is crooked."
"I can see the timer on the wreath in customer service."

It's 4 am and we are all tired, but its fix it now or come back at 4 am on Friday morning to fix it then. Of course we opt for now. We drag the ladders up to the 2nd aisle unit to adjust it and as we touch it, the aircraft cable that is holding it into the ceiling snaps and the entire unit swings down from one end of the sky, brushes past my ear and smashes into the glass cosmetic counter BAM!

The glass case is surprisingly alright. The aisle unit is broken. Repairable, but not tonight. Now it must come completely down. We examine how the aircraft cable was able to break and discover that the installation into the ceiling may be faulty and then have a debate about whether any of the aisle units can stay up in the ceiling because aren't they all just waiting to come crashing down onto the floor? And what if they do that while the store is open? And after much discussion, as we were just about to call it a night, the ladders come out and all the aisle units come down and go into the back for storage. Later that week a construction crew would come in during the night, reinforce those aircraft cable and we would hang the units again.

We left the store at 6 am. The sun wasn't up but the sky was getting lighter. Everyone says, "You okay to drive?" and we all promise to drive very carefully. I get home, slightly wired from all the sugar and soda, but need to "sleep fast" because Thanksgiving dinner will be at 1:00. I leave a note, "DO NOT WAKE ME UP. EVER!" for my family and go to bed.

And this became my life for 8 years. I do not remember any Thanksgiving dinners. I've attended them, but have no recollection. I became a visual manager or a Nordstrom that was 3 floors, with 6 windows and a set up crew of 100. We still left there at 6 am on Thanksgiving.

Each display person has their own horror story. The 6 foot fiberglass ornaments that fell from the atrium to the first floor, the holiday carpets that were glued down with carpet tape that would never come off the marble, the window lights that short circuited and knocked the power out to the whole store...

And then there is that smug little sign "At Nordstrom... we won't be decking our halls..." and all I can see after that is "...because we don't believe our visual department deserves a Thanksgiving."

Three days after Halloween

2011-11-14T12:21:00.000-08:00

Happy Belated Halloween!

I have in my house a giant jar of Halloween candy left over from two weeks ago. I always buy some candy in case we have trick or treaters at our house. Three years ago we had two. Two years ago we had one. Last year we had four. This year we had none.

I get it. We live in a very big city. We live in a predominately Jewish neighborhood. Parents are much more cautious about letting strangers give their children candy.

Trick or Treating was a strong tradition when I was a kid. Unlike today where I start thinking about my costume for next year starting in March, as a child, the most important thing about Halloween was not what was I going to wear, it was the free candy.

In elementary school, costume thoughts started about 5 pm on October 30.

"What are you gonna be for Halloween?"
I dunno'. What are you gonna be?
"I've got a cowboy hat left over from my birthday party. My mom says I can wear a plaid shirt with it and go as a cowboy."
Cool. I think I'm going as a gypsy.

Okay, let's be fair, I was five and I was gay. I was scared and excited to get to dress up in all the costume clothes my sister got to play with all the time. One year I went as a Gypsy, the next year an old lady (added a gray wig), another year I was a housekeeper (added an apron) and since Bewitched was popular on the TV, I once went as Aunt Clara. I was also a cowboy, a bunny, and once I think I was a frog. Since I was the youngest, I was never the first to wear any costume and didn't have any say over it (except those costumes that involved wearing high heel shoes).

Halloween night had the same routine every year. Dad was in charge of answering our door and giving out candy (talk about scary!), Mom was in charge of walking us around the neighborhood. You'd see all the kids you went to school with early in your tour. All the moms would stand back on the sidewalks while you went up the path to the door. No shortcuts. Sidewalk, path to door, back to sidewalk, path to door, back to sidewalk... Respect for the neighborhood and if you want their free candy, respect their yard and garden as well. At houses where they had a dog, my older brother would always wait on the sidewalk. "May I have another candy for my brother?" (point our kid dressed as G.I. Joe on sidewalk,) "He's afraid of your dog." (stoop down, pet miniature poodle.)

Later in the evening, a bunch of people you'd never seen before would be running wild across the lawns. That's when dad would shout, "They're busing in those god damn kids from across town!" and he'd turn off the porch light. We'd give out about 60-100 mini candy bars depending on the year. The next day he'd talk to his co-worker Gerald, and find out that he had given out 500 mini candy bars and realize that our neighborhood wasn't nearly as bad. (Seriously, every year, the same conversation on Halloween night. Then same revelation on November 1st.)

After 2-3 hours of trick or treating (depending on the weather) we three kids would come home with our pillowcases stuffed with candy, clear off the dining room table, and pour our bountiful harvest onto the table. Like thieves after looting a village, you could trust no one. Once the candy was on the table you could not leave to use the bathroom or answer a phone call because someone else was certain to steal your Nestle's Crunch or Resse's Peanut butter cups. There is no honor among sugar buzzed siblings.

We would stack and sort our candies. If you were lucky enough to get a full size candy bar, you pulled that one out and hid it back in your pillowcase. DO NOT SHOW IT TO ANYONE. Next you sort the "fun size" candy bars: Kit Kats, Three Musketeers, Milky Ways, Snickers. On to Junior Mints and Whoppers in their tiny boxes. The lesser candies: Dum-Dum suckers, Sugar Daddys, Starburst, Sweet Tarts. And finally loose hard candy and licorice from cheap people.

Highly prized:
Mountain Bars (they were large)
Mounds and Almond Joy
Reese's Peanut Butter Cups
M & M's

Not valued:
Dots
Loose hard candies
Black licorice

And then a sickeningly sweet sugar based game of poker would begin.

"I'll trade you these plain M&M's for a Peanut M&M's."
No, but I will trade you these Peanut M&M's for a Mountain Bar.
"No way, TWO Peanut M&M's equal a Mountain bar!"
Do not! Fine, ONE Peanut M&M for a Mountain Bar, but I'll add in a Sugar Daddy.
"Uh... plus a bubble gum."
Okay deal.

And then with complete suspicion from both parties, each commodity was slid across the table and the transaction was completed.

This was repeated over and over again for an hour or more, all under the watchful eye of our mother. Inevitably the phone rang and my mother would leave the dining room to take the call. Deals would start to fall apart, promised goods were shorted on the slide from one side of the table to the other and all hell would break loose. That is when my dad would get up from his chair in the living room and shout, "If you kids don't shut the hell up, I'M gonna come in there and take ALL your candy and you're NEVER GOING TRICK OR TREATING AGAIN!!"

Absolute silence. All trading stopped on the commodities floor. We waited for mom to come back from the phone and only then did a whispered trading begin again in earnest.

As payment for all her hard work overseeing the deals, my mom got all the black licorice she wanted. Which was, let's face it, all the black licorice we'd received. Years later I was offering to buy her come candy and said, "Well you like black licorice, do you want that?" and she said, "No thank you. I don't like black licorice." But you always took all our black licorice that we offered you on Halloween? And she answered, "It was all you ever offered." Wow mom, way to make us feel like bad selfish children years after the fact.

At last, all the candy is sorted. The sugar rush has peaked and we are all starting to crash. We are probably about 5 minutes from my inevitable crying moment (sugar buzz, certain I was cheated in at least five of those trades, not allowed to carry a purse again for a whole year... who knows why I would cry this year, but I would still cry). My mother (The Tupperware Lady) would bring us each our own 5 gallon Tupperware canister with Tupperware lid to keep our candy organized and most importantly, fresh. Gary, the oldest, would take some of his candy up to his room and place the remainder in a different piece of Tupperware in the freezer in the basement for later. He would create this piece of theater with great flourish, counting each piece of candy headed to the freezer as he placed it in the alternate container, then seal the Tupperware lid and say, "I know EXACTLY how many candy bars are in there," eye contact to my sister, "I know exactly where I am going to place this in the freezer, " eye contact to me, "and NO ONE better touch it," eye contact to my mother, "or ELSE." (eye contact all around once more to seal the threat).

My sister never said a word. Much more subtle, she would quietly take her candy up to her room and hide it. Probably in her underwear drawer. I don't know. I never found it. She was stealth.

Me. I had a small problem with sugar. Okay it was a big problem. I couldn't get enough of the stuff. My birthday is three days after Halloween and every year I had the same goal: To make my Halloween Candy last until my birthday candy arrived.

THREE DAYS.

5 GALLON CANISTER of candy... and it NEVER, EVER, MADE IT.

Seatle Hotel View, 2

2011-11-11T12:19:00.001-08:00

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"Damn you Seattle, I was promised a CITY view and I still got water!"
(taken at The Westin Seattle)

Seattle Hotel view

2011-11-11T00:22:00.001-08:00

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"Needle in a graystack"
(taken at Seattle)

Change is gonna' come

2011-11-09T15:01:00.002-08:00

Sometimes I blog on and on about what is most pressing inside my skull. Sometimes I keep those pressing thoughts all inside so they don't spill out in the wrong way. This time I shall try to hit a middle ground. Here goes...

Last month, my biggest design client asked for an additional discount off what I charge them. For over 3 years I have been giving them a 15% discount. Last month, they asked for 60% off. Oh, and they didn't want me or my team to do any less work, just take less money. When I countered with, "Hey, how about 40% off?" They told me (and I shall paraphrase) "Thanks for playing, we already have someone lined up who will do it for the lesser price. Turn in your work and final invoice this week."

So be it. (which was oddly, not my first answer)

The twist here is that my biggest client is actually two of my clients. Two halves, one company. So we all know what is coming next, right? They now want the EXACT SAME WORK for less money on the other half of the company. Hey there's always someone cheaper out there to take their money.

And so we see the writing on the wall: CHANGE IS COMING.

I leafed through my mind and found similar situations in my past. Change came, I resisted. Change came, I held on with all my might. Change came and I was devastated. Then a year later I would look at my life and laugh at how stupid I had been to think that my previous situation was so fantastic that I could never leave it. I have always landed somewhere better, somewhere less stressful, somewhere with more freedom and I have been a happier person. I decided to play those old home movies in my head and learn the valuable lesson.

I have stopped what I am doing and said out loud, "I am open to change."

I am not holding on. I am making peace with my surroundings and turning my eyes to the horizon that holds my future. If I can't make enough money to live in the center of sunny Los Angeles, than I can figure out how much money I will have and choose a new location to live that is affordable.

My ears hear "CHANGE IS COMING" and my head shouts back "SCREW THAT!" My mind takes over and talks me out of my anger and reminds me that next year is going to be amazing and I will be just fine. Ultimately my stomach tries to have the last word as it knots up and says, "But I'm not ready today..."

Then I stop and BREATHE.

I don't know yet what my future holds. But I do know this, Change is coming and I am open.

Rain, rain, go away

2011-11-06T09:59:00.000-08:00

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"We are not a fan of rainy days. "

November 3

2011-11-04T18:08:00.001-07:00

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"Baby, you're a firework!"

Happy Halloween

2011-10-31T19:08:00.001-07:00

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"Smokin' hot firemen!"
(taken at West Hollywood)

Idina Menzel in Concert

2011-10-22T22:54:00.001-07:00

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"Idina Menzel, Marvin Hamlisch and the Pasadena symphony. "
(taken at The Greek Theatre)

I have the worst camera on my iPhone for these things.

Up in my grill

2011-10-19T19:45:00.001-07:00

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"Behold, the new shiny BBQ! It'll never look like this again. "

Elizabeht Taylor's Oscars

2011-10-16T14:54:00.000-07:00

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"Elizabeth Taylor's Oscars. "
(taken at MOCA @ Pacific Design Center)

A final Canadian thought...

2011-10-11T13:57:00.001-07:00

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"Au revoir, Kamloops. "
(taken at Kamloops Airport (YKA))

Canadian Sunset

2011-10-10T16:40:00.001-07:00

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"The sun sets on a lovely visit up North. "
(taken at Sun Rivers Golf Course)

Wildlife here is pretty tame

2011-10-09T12:26:00.001-07:00

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"Mountain sheep"
(taken at Sun Rivers Golf Course)

Morning in British Columbia

2011-10-09T07:17:00.001-07:00

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"Good morning Kamloops"
(taken at Sun Rivers Golf Course)

Northern bound

2011-10-08T12:26:00.001-07:00

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"On the move..."
(taken at Vancouver International Airport (YVR))

It never rains in California...

2011-10-05T14:13:00.001-07:00

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"Rain, rain, go away..."

It's your neighborhood Tupperware Lady!

2011-09-30T13:06:00.000-07:00

"Hi, my name is Jim and it's been 2 years since I've been to a Tupperware party. My favorite piece of Tupperware is the ice cube tray and they don't make them anymore."

This post is to commemorate my mother's FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY of being the neighborhood Tupperware Lady.

October 1, 1961, I joined Tupperware and my life was changed forever. I was a stay at home mom with two small children ages one and two. I wanted a part time job to make enough money to buy Christmas presents. I planned to sell Tupperware for two months.

That was over forty nine years ago. I joined Tupperware to earn money. I stayed because of the friendships that I made. As my success in Tupperware grew, my self esteem grew. I was successful far beyond anything that I had expected.

As my self esteem grew, I became a better parent and wife. A year after I joined Tupperware, we had another child. I am fortunate to be married to Ted, who took care of our children in the evening while I held Tupperware parties. When I held daytime parties, a lady came to our home and stayed with our children.

My introduction to Tupperware was through my mother who used Tupperware when I was growing up at home. When I hosted my own Tupperware party, I realized that I was excited enough that I wanted to share Tupperware with my friends. So, I signed up.

At my Tupperware parties, I learn ideas from the party guests. When I wanted to learn to menu plan, I asked for ideas at my parties. Now, I teach menu planning at some parties. Tupperware taught me how to do microwave cooking and organize cupboards.

As part of my Tupperware training, I attend sales meetings and conventions to learn more. I hear motivational speakers and read motivational books.

I teach my party guests how to save time, work and money. They date parties to share the knowledge with their friends. Tupperware gives the hostesses gifts for having their parties.

My favorite Tupperware job description is, “I get paid for giving people presents.”

My mom started selling Tupperware before I was even born. I have never known an existence without Tupperware. Some have said the reason I still look so young and fresh is because my mother used to seal me in Tupperware to burp me. But I know that Tupperware is so well sealed that I would have suffocated.

My mom didn't just drink the Kool-Aid of Tupperware, she brewed it at home and kept it in a Tupperware pitcher.

My mom was also a Tupperware manager and as such she was given a brand new Ford station wagon every two years. Every two years we got a blue station wagon with wood paneling. Every two years you had to learn a new license plate. I still remember OVF 111.

Each quarter Tupperware had a promotion. You could earn prizes. Valuable prizes! My mom would being home the prize brochure and all the kids would clamor to be the first to look through it. "I want the stereo!" "I want a TV for my bedroom!" "I want the carpet!" (yes, that last one was me. I was redecorating my room when I was 7.)

Eventually each of us got our own stereo for our own room, "FFT" - "Free From Tupperware". That was the common term as you walked through our house:

Microwave - "Free From Tupperware"
Stereo - "Free From Tupperware"
Dishwasher - "Free From Tupperware"
Chest type freezer - "Free From Tupperware"
Upright freezer - "Free From Tupperware"
Television - "Free From Tupperware"
Dining room table and chairs - "Free From Tupperware"
Shelving unit in living room - "Free From Tupperware"
Living room chair - "Free From Tupperware"
Mirror - "Free From Tupperware"
Nesting tables - "Free From Tupperware"
That blue station wagon outside - "Free From Tupperware"
and yes, that carpet in my room - "Free From Tupperware"

You didn't get all that stuff sitting around doing nothing. My mom was busy! She sometimes held three parties in a day. One in the morning, one in the afternoon and one in the evening. But she was also readily available for us. She ran her datebook like a Hollywood PR firm, a year in advance. If you knew you had a school program she would put that in her datebook and it was immovable. If you got sick and had to stay home, she could fudge her schedule and leave for her party at the last minute and return a little early after stopping at the store to get you ice cream. There you were laying in the chair ("Free From Tupperware") in the living room watching TV ("Free From Tupperware") and the ice cream was picked up in a blue station wagon with wood panelling ("Free From Tupperware") that came home to rest in the freezer ("Free From Tupperware").

By the age of 5, I could answer the phone properly, "Hello? Kehl residence. No, she's not here right now. May I take a message?" I felt so adult. Nowadays I think we'd have to call child protective services, something about child labor laws. Let's face it, I was actually earning that area rug for my room.

Every Wednesday the freight truck came to drop off all the Tupperware boxes for all the Tupperware ladies that worked with my mom. Wednesday meant the garage was full of Tupperware boxes and my parents had to park outside until they were all picked up.
There's the house with the big circular driveway. The freight truck had to come up the right side, swing around, back up to the garage and then leave by the left side. No variations. If it was a new driver my mom gave him notes before he got to the house about how to do it properly. No one wanted a repeat of the time they nearly pulled the electrical lines off the house by coming up the wrong side, or the incident where half the tree in the center was ripped off the trunk.

You can also see the steep banks on the side of the driveway. With each new Tupperware lady, a new attempt was made at navigating that driveway. Sometimes there would be more than four people picking up their boxes at the same time. Like our very own free reality TV show, we kids would line up at the front window and watch them try to back out the driveway, their view obscured by boxes filling their cars. too far left, too far right, over-correct... and BOOM, up on the soggy side of the driveway leaving a big tire track! We'd all get excited knowing that there would be another free show that night when my dad got home.

"Hey dad, did you see the driveway?"
"Yeah I saw it. What kind of person can't see that big a side of a hill!?"
"It took her three tries!"
"Jesus! Barb, tell those lady drivers to park on the goddamn street!"

My mom sorted her Tupperware in the basement. If we were home when the truck arrived, we would have the driver drop her boxes at the top of the outside basement stairs. Then we would place "The board" (a big wooden plank) on the stairs and turn it into a slide. The boxes, sometimes 20 or more (especially if it was Break Your Record Week) would all be sent to the basement. Once inside the basement, every single box needed to be unpacked. Round with Round, square with square, replacement parts over there, catalogs and party supplies over here, it was an elaborate system. Once it was unpacked, if I was helping my mom, she would call out what she needed from the order form and I would find it, grab it and bring it her workbench, into a plastic bag went what the customer ordered, "Tagged, bagged and ready to go."

My sister helped me learn how to write my name on a Wednesday night. I was so excited, I ran downstairs and sat on the basement steps to show my mom who was packing her Tupperware. "Look mom!" and I took out a purple crayon and wrote my name over and over on the wall next to the stairs. It stayed there until about ten years ago when they put in new stairs.

When we were young, my mom would ask if anyone wanted to make her deliveries with her. "ME! FRONT SEAT!!" And on Sunday nights she would complete her order by hand (in a triplicate form with carbon copies) and then need to take it to the post office before midnight to make certain it reached Seattle or Everett the next day. "Who wants to ride to the post office?" ME! FRONT SEAT!!! When we got old enough to drive, my mom would have us drive her on her deliveries as our practice driving. I think she didn't particularly enjoying the front seat at that point.

There are many phrases that ring through my head that I know my siblings can recite in their sleep. "Tagged, bagged and ready to go," is one of them. Another good one is "Guaranteed to not crack, chip, break or peel. But if you melt it we'll sell you a new one." Once we were adults we were allowed to learn the phrase, "No sex, no supper, just Tupper, Tupper, Tupper."

Our house was living showroom of Tupperware in action. My mom often held open houses to sell Tupperware and she was always ready to give a cupboard tour. We used to say that if our house caught fire we'd perish in the toxic fumes of plastic melting long before any flames reached us.

When we were kids, my dad was the most likely to yell at you for getting out of line. My mom was slower to take the bait of bad behavior. In our teens, my parents went away for the weekend leaving us home on our own. My older brother and sister could drive by then and we were in charge of ourselves. On the Sunday that my parents were going to be home, my sister called us all into the kitchen.

"Watch this," she said, then she opened up the fridge and placed a head of iceberg lettuce in the middle of the fridge. ALL BY ITSELF. NOT IN TUPPERWARE.
"No!" shouted my brother, "You'll get us all in trouble!"
"You're crazy," I mumbled, taking a step back, shaking my head in disbelief. "You know they come home TODAY."
"I don't care," she said, "They left us in charge. That's how I want to put it away."
This was her greatest act of defiance (uh, there would be more later). She closed the refrigerator door and walked out of the kitchen.
I turned to my older brother, "What do we do? Should we just put it in the Tupperware?"
"Don't touch it. Let's just see what happens. Remember, we can always blame Debbie."

A few hours later we were all watching TV in the living room when my parents pulled into the driveway. We jumped up, turned off the TV and ran to our own bedrooms. Each of us holding our breath.

My parents came in to the house, "Hello! Hello!" No one moved. The ice chest came in from the car, you could hear the ice slushing inside. This was it. Any minute now the fridge would be opened and naked lettuce would be revealed...

"We're home! Hello!" the slight creak of the fridge door opening..."What in the...?"

"GARY! DEBBIE!! JIMMY!!! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" My mother sounded very angry.

We all showed up in the kitchen. "What is this?" My mom pointed at the naked lettuce.
"Lettuce, duh." said my sister.
"Yes, I know that it's lettuce. Why is it like this in the refrigerator?"
"Uh," started my brother, "because that's where you keep lettuce?"
"Not like THIS," my mother grabbed the lettuce and pulled it out of the fridge, "this is just wasteful. You might as well be throwing your money away. Why would anyone pay good money for lettuce just to throw it in the fridge when there is a perfectly good lettuce keeper RIGHT HERE, this is beyond my comprehension!"
"DEBBIE DID IT!" I shouted and pointed at my sister.

We three kids thought this was the most hilarious thing we'd experienced, made only better by the fact that for years my mother still didn't see the humor when we told the story. "Perfectly good lettuce..." "Crisper right there in the cupboard..." "You kids think you're so funny throwing money away..."

Inducted into the cult of Tupperware we didn't know anything different. To this day I can not make Ziploc bags close. It's not a skill set I learned as a child. As each of us has married our spouses, they make the difficult transition to being Tupperized. I remember the first time I knew Lyle had drank the Kool-Aid. We were talking about Tupperware in our house (because there is so much of it) and a friend said, "I don't understand the big deal. You can use Rubbermaid the same." And Lyle launched into an explanation of potato chips and crispness with the zeal of a convert. There is no escape from the Tupperware. You will be assimilated.

And now it's 50 years. My mom has slowed down a bit and Tupperware has changed. It's not a station wagon anymore, it's a mini-van. The freight truck doesn't deliver to one house in the county, it gets shipped direct to each customer via UPS. No more midnight runs to the post office, everything is done through the computer. My mom still hold parties but not three a day. People aren't around during the day like they used to be and she doesn't have the same stamina it would take to do that. However, people do drop off broken parts at her house and just last week there was my mom, holding an open house, giving her cupboard tour.

Happy 50th Tupper-versary mom!

Morning goodies

2011-09-22T12:07:00.001-07:00

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"This is my breakfast, at noon. Yeah, it's that kind of day. "