Whilst thinking about Thanksgiving and blessings for a column last week, my mind kept working. Which for me is kinda amazing. Letting my mind work is something I don’t ask of it.
But, work it did. As a matter of factuality, on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I was up and writing at 4 in the morning (so take that, all of your mothers, grandmothers, aunts and uncles who look for love and adoration for just getting up and putting the turkey in at the late morning time of 5 or 6).
And, this is why I don’t encourage my mind to think much . . . I like sleeping. I don’t like having to get up and write down what I am thinking. At any rate, up as I was, I needed to purge the thoughts swirling about and through my head. As the boys slept, I started typing a story for them. A love story if you will. It’s about life, living it, and loving it.
About a month ago, Oxford resident Sue Kinch e-mailed all her contacts (including me) asking for advice to give to her son. I wrote back to her this quote from long-dead actor and American icon, John Wayne:
‘Life’s tough . . . it’s even tougher if you’re stupid.?
I don’t know if I will include that in my tome for Shamus and Sean. I have roughed in an outline and about 20 pages so far. I don’t know if I’ll finish it and don’t know where it will go. It started out about my ideas on life, and now it has evolved into the father-son relationship thingy. . . mine with them, and my dad’s with me.
It is taking on a life of its own.
Thing is, I don’t know why I started? Was it Thanksgiving? Is it the schmoltzy time of the year, holidays, family, blah, blah, blah? What is it?
A Christmas miracle?
For God’s sake, I even wrote a smackin? frackin? poem! I am not a sensitive, poem-writing Bohemian. I am Don Curmudgeon Rush. I am the cranky old white guy, cantankerous, crabby, crotchety and ornery. I want my Bah-Humbug back!
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We got our Christmas tree up this past Sunday. And, of course, during this we played Christmas music. I dug out all my CDs and laid ’em out on the kitchen table. I asked each boy, in turn to pick out the Christmas music they wanted to hear.
Exclaimed Shamus, now 12, upon seeing the selection available: ‘Dad, you’ve got a lot of Christmas music!?
My only excuse: As I am sooooo old, son, I have had plenty of time to grow the collection. And, come to think of it, I am missing my Bing Crosby/Andrew Sisters selection. I have the case but not the CD. Dangblamit.
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Miracle of Miracles . . . on Monday night, I went out to move my pickup truck into the garage. It was 9 p.m. and I noticed it was rather bright out. I looked up at the moon, and saw it was kind of overcast. The effect of the full moon, and hazing clouds was a perfect ring all around the moon, in the clouds.
I don’t think I have ever seen anything like that before. I know it’s an atmospheric phenomenon, but it was still inspiring.
By 9:04 p.m., the ring around the moon was gone.
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At any rate, it is the time of year to extend your hand to your fellow man. When you see someone down, don’t walk by and feel sorry. Do something. If someone is in need, reach out. (If you want the selfish take on it, you will feel better that you helped somebody else.)
Comments, suggestions, feelings and the like are encouraged. If you got something to say to Rush, e-mail him. Don@dontrushmedon.com and remember, be brave (he won’t bite you).