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Showing posts from December, 2011

Star of Wonder, Star of Night

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I switched the TV on to the Christmas carol channel to get the holiday spirit going last night and came away with some valuable information. The cable people like to run little Yuletide factoids along the bottom of the screen while the music plays. So I learned that in Hungary, food cannot be eaten on Christmas Eve until a twinkling star is seen in the sky. No food, I thought, that’s ridiculous. What happens if it’s overcast and you don’t see any stars? You go Hungary! (Ouch! I'll be getting a lump of coal for that one...) But as I thought about it, I started to like this tradition. A star is a sign of hope and given the current state of the world we could all use a little hope right this very minute. It seemed like a good idea to hold up the party until you get that sign from above. I just got done watching “ Scrooge ,” the best film version of Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol,” and it got pretty emotional. I grew up watching this movie with my family and now here I was sitting by

'A Disturbing Image and A Crude Gesture'

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In the movie “ The Next Voice You Hear ,” God skips the burning bush and uses the radio to speak to humanity. I recently saw this 1950 film, starring James Whitmore and future First Lady Nancy Davis, and found it to be a bit clunky and contrived. But it made an impression on me because it showed how good, decent people can forget that they’re good and decent as they rush around trying to find a place in the world. Upon hearing the voice of the Almighty, everyone starts taking life slower and being more respectful to one another. I thought that was important and it seemed to tie in so nicely with my Day One project, where I vowed I would improve my outlook on life. And then I decided to go the movies on Friday night and everything went to hell. I rarely go to the movies, preferring to watch films at home. Most movies are overrated and overpriced and most theater audiences are comprised of inconsiderate morons who talk, act stupid with their smart phones, and do just about anything els

Beautiful Boy

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Every night when I come home the first thing I see is Ben’s heart. It’s just a heart-shaped piece of green glittery paper that I have taped to my front door, but it means so much to me. Up until recently, Ben was my four-year-old next-door neighbor. I knew I’d miss him after I moved, but I didn’t realize how much. He gave me that green heart back in the summer as my sister and I were cleaning out our family’s house. Every weekend we’d look forward to seeing Ben poke his head in from outside and shout “Wob-ert!” He would talk with us, look around the empty house, and then suddenly say, “I have to go now.” And off he’d go. Ben is such a sweet kid, always willing to share things, which I find amazing for a child that age. I don’t think I was anywhere as near as generous when I was four years old, so Ben has taught me an important lesson. We told him not to give us anything, but nevertheless Ben stopped by the house one time and gave my sister and me some balloons he had. Then he promptly

Day One

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Over the summer, DC Comics took the incredible step of resetting all 52 of its continuing series and starting them all over again with issue No. 1. Superman and Batman may have been around since the 1930s, but DC is scrubbing everything that’s happened in their comic universe over the decades and beginning anew. I don’t know how comic book fans are reacting to this plan, but it sounds like a great idea to me. I have gone through so much upheaval over the last few months that I’ve decided it’s time for me to start my life all over again at Day One. And I’m doing this right now. I can’t afford to wait until New Year’s Day to make any resolutions—my life needs a radical reboot ASA-freaking-P. I’m in a new place, we finally sold the family home, and I’m back at the gym five torturous months after my back went out and took my right leg with it. There was a time when I thought I would never heal, that the incredible pain in my shin would be with me forever. The agony started one Friday night