Patsy Porco

Archive for the ‘Christmas’ Category

Merry Christmas Season

In Christmas, Humor, Religion on December 28, 2016 at 11:09 pm

This was originally published in December 2015. If you didn’t read it a year ago, then, as NBC used to say about its reruns, “It’s new to you!”

As our pastor, Rev. Michael Boccaccio, points out every year, “Christmas is not a day, it’s a season.” The Christmas season traditionally starts on Christmas Day and ends on the Feast of the Epiphany (or Little Christmas in some parts of the world), which is on January 6, the day the Wise Men showed up at the stable in Bethlehem.

Partridge in a Pear TreeFather Boccaccio told us that, in the Catholic Church, the Christmas season officially draws to a close on the day that Jesus was baptized. That date varies from year to year, and can extend to January 15 or so. He insists that no Christmas trees or decorations can be taken down until that day. He threatens to make surprise visits to our homes to check that our decorations are still up after January 1, but we all know that he won’t visit, just like he knows that our trees and holly will be long gone before the middle of January.

But back to the Epiphany and the Wise Men: I’ve always had a problem with that story. Mary and Joseph were on their way from Nazareth to Bethlehem to register for Emperor Augustus’ mandatory census when Jesus was born. Penalties for disobeying the emperor were undoubtedly stiff back then, so I imagine Joseph bundled Mary and Jesus up shortly after Jesus’ birth and hustled them out of the stable and off to the census bureau.

I don’t see them staying in a stable for 12 days. And even if the landlord did let them linger awhile, it probably took those Wise Men from the general area known as “the East” longer than 12 days to get there. They were following a star, and stars are only visible at night, so they would have had to have taken the days off to wait for nightfall … and to shop for gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

nativity_Depending on how far east they were, it could have taken them months, or years. But, if they were only a few miles east, they could have made it in time, star notwithstanding. However, nobody knows where they started from. I’ve heard stories that they showed up at Mary and Joseph’s house when Jesus was a toddler. Then again, the accepted story is that they were definitely at the stable at the same time that Jesus and His parents were.

This reminds me of David Sedaris’ story about the six to eight black men who accompany Santa on his rounds in Holland. Sedaris wondered why no one had gotten an accurate count over several centuries. I personally wonder why the whole Wise Men story is so vague, when the other details of Jesus’ birth were documented so clearly. A visiting priest to our parish complicated the story further by saying that there was no mention of three Wise Men in the Bible; only three gifts were noted. That means that any number of Wise Men could have been there bearing three gifts. Or maybe only the three best gifts were recorded, and the Diaper Genie and bottle sterilizer were left out.

Here’s another question I have: Why is the revised end of the Christmas season on the day of Jesus’ baptism — which occurred 30 years or so after His birth? I suppose the Church is playing it safe using that date, since The Wise Men had to have arrived within three decades.

However, if we use that logic, Father Boccaccio will make us keep our trees up year-round.

Wise Men

 

Merry Christmas Season

In Christmas, Christmas Season, Humor on December 29, 2015 at 4:36 pm

As our pastor, Rev. Michael Boccaccio, points out every year, “Christmas is not a day, it’s a season.” The Christmas season traditionally starts on Christmas Day and ends on the Feast of the Epiphany (or Little Christmas in some parts of the world), which falls on January 6, the day the Wise Men showed up at the stable in Bethlehem.

Partridge in a Pear TreeA song was even written to commemorate “The 12 Days of Christmas.” For the life of me, I can’t figure out if you’re not supposed to count Christmas Day as one of the 12 days, or the Epiphany. If you count them both, then you have the 13 days of Christmas, which is just wrong.

Father Boccaccio told us that the Christmas season has been extended in the Catholic Church and it now officially draws to a close on the day that Jesus was baptized. That date varies from year to year, and can extend to January 15 or so. He insists that no Christmas trees or decorations can be taken down until that day. He threatens to make surprise visits to our homes to check that our decorations are still up after January 1, but we all know that he won’t visit, just like he knows that our trees will be long gone before the middle of January.

Now, let’s return to the Epiphany and those Wise Men. I’ve always had a problem with that story. Mary and Joseph were on their way from Nazareth to Bethlehem to register for Emperor Augustus’ mandatory census when Jesus was born. Penalties for disobeying the emperor were undoubtedly stiff back then, so I imagine Joseph bundled Mary and Jesus up shortly after Jesus’ birth and hustled them out of the stable and off to the census bureau.

I don’t see them staying in a stable for 12 days. And even if the landlord did let them linger awhile, it probably took those Wise Men from the general area known as “the East” longer than 12 days to get there. They were following a star, and stars are only visible at night, so they would have had to take the days off to wait for nightfall … and to shop for gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

nativity_Depending on how far east they were, it could have taken them months, or years. But, if they were only a few miles east, they could have made it in time, star notwithstanding. However, nobody knows where they started from. I’ve heard stories that they showed up at Mary and Joseph’s house when Jesus was a toddler. Then again, the accepted story is that they were definitely at the stable at the same time that Jesus and His parents were.

This reminds me of David Sedaris’ story about the six to eight black men who accompany Santa on his rounds in Europe. He wondered why no one had gotten an accurate count over several centuries.* I personally wonder why the whole Wise Men story is so vague, when the other details of Jesus’ birth were documented so clearly. A visiting priest to our parish complicated the story further by saying that there was no mention of three Wise Men in the Bible; only three gifts were noted. That means that any number of Wise Men could have been there bearing three gifts. Or maybe only the three best gifts were mentioned and the Diaper Genie and bottle sterilizer were left out.

Here’s another question: Did the Wise Men reach the stable during the 12 days of Christmas? And why is the revised end of the Christmas season on the day of Jesus’ baptism — which occurred 30 years or so after His birth? The wise men had to have arrived by then, so I suppose that’s a safe date to use.

Using that logic, however, we should never be allowed to take down our trees.

Wise Men

*http://www.stnicholascenter.org/pages/sedaris/

 

‘Tis the Season to Thank Your Boss

In Christmas, Christmas, Holidays, Humor on December 18, 2015 at 2:08 pm

Don’t you just hate it when you’ve given someone a present and the person doesn’t even bother to acknowledge that it was received? It’s especially hurtful if you’ve put a lot of thought or money into the gift. But, even if you’ve remembered a person at the last minute and emailed him or her a Walmart gift card, you still think you deserve to be thanked, right?

Now, I know that anyone who is reading this is thinking, “Yeah! I hear ya sister!” or something similar, using the current vernacular. You then continue the thought: “If so-and-so doesn’t thank me this year, he/she is OFF my list!” Of course, if you actually don’t send a present to so-and-so, then you will definitely hear from that person, or his or her mother, or even your mother. It’s odd how people always remember to complain.

By now, I probably have you really worked up. You’re probably thinking, “How dare they get angry with me for not sending a gift to someone who can’t even pick up the phone or send me an email?” Damn straight. You would never be so inconsiderate.

Or would you? How often does your boss give you paid days off? Sure, the government might mandate that certain days are paid holidays, but the government isn’t the one paying you to not work. And do you ever directly thank the person who is paying you? Hmmm.

Why don’t we thank our bosses? I work in a very small company and find it strange that we will all gladly accept our Christmas vacation days, and attend the holiday party, yet not acknowledge the person who provided these perks.

It might not be feasible to thank the CEO of the huge conglomerate you work for, but if your supervisor lets you leave early the day before a holiday, shouldn’t you say “Thank you”? And, if you work in a small company, isn’t it downright inexcusable not to thank your CEO, who sits nearby, for your paid company holidays?

We thank people all the time for little courtesies. So, how can we ignore the big ones? I suggest that we all thank our bosses now, before we’re the ones who are off the list next year … or on the naughty list.

And, in this season of goodwill toward men, it’s the perfect time to be grateful and gracious. And if your coworkers disagree, do it anyway … and screw ’em.

Naughty or Nice

 

(This post is an edited version of my Thanksgiving post.)

Rudy the Bad-Bad Golden

In Christmas, Christmas, dogs, Golden Retriever, Humor on December 26, 2014 at 11:46 pm

Rudy, our Golden Retriever, has spent the day lying low. If he could become invisible, he would; in the absence of an invisibility cloak, he attempted to blend in with the furniture (see photo below). As well he might. They say that you have to reprimand dogs immediately when they break the rules, because they won’t remember their transgressions the next day, or even the next hour. They are wrong. Rudy knows he’s in big trouble. Maybe he doesn’t remember why (he does), but he knows better than to ask for any special favors today … or even breathe too loudly.

Rudy 12262014

Rudy’s disgrace occurred yesterday, Christmas Day. My sister, Valencia,* her husband, Mike, and their children, Lana and Jack, invited our family to Christmas dinner at their house in New Jersey. Valencia insisted that we bring Rudy. They have a two-year-old yellow Labrador Retriever named Ozzie. Valencia assured me that the two dogs would get along wonderfully, even though they had never met.

At first, it appeared that my worries were for nothing and that Valencia was right. The dogs were initially wary of each other, but then they sniffed each others’ hind quarters and settled down. I had brought two enormous rawhide bones for them; one was pure white and one was a darker tan. I gave the lighter one to Rudy and the darker one to Ozzie. The kids and I took the dogs into the yard and tossed a ball around for them to fetch. After awhile, we went back into the house. In the kitchen, the dogs were just standing around the kitchen table when Ozzie decided that he needed to demonstrate who the alpha dog was in their house. So he started to mount Rudy. It happened in an instant and if you missed it, like my sister and brother-in-law did, you wouldn’t have known what set off the ensuing dog fight in the kitchen. Rudy, who is generally too lazy to bark for more than attention or food, bared his teeth and snarled. His snarling turned into angry barking at Ozzie. Ozzie barked back in equal anger. We were able to separate them before limbs were torn off. Poor Ozzie was at loose ends. It was his house and he deserved to call the shots, but this seven-year-old Golden seemed to think that he was the boss.

We tried to get the dogs to make up, which was just plain ridiculous. They don’t exactly kiss or shake hands. But, in time, they were able to co-exist in the same space, although they kept their distance from each other. In any event, they seemed peaceful, so we went back to preparing the dinner. Rudy went to the door to go out. Valencia let him out and noticed that he had Ozzie’s bone. He went out and hid it somewhere and came back in. Ozzie then had to go out with Rudy’s bone. Then the fun really started. Rudy went to Ozzie’s pile of Christmas presents and grabbed his stuffed animals and slobbered all over them. Then he went outside, found a big mud puddle and rolled in it. Before I was able to drag him into the house, he grabbed Ozzie’s bone from where he had hidden it. Back in the house, he headed for the living room, where he plopped his filthy body onto the floor. I cleaned him and the floor up while he gnawed on Ozzie’s bone, with Ozzie observing the proceedings from a safe distance. Then I went back into the kitchen.

My nephew, Jack, who had a fever and was resting on the couch, called me back into the living room. He thought that I should know that Rudy had vomited on their rug. Back to the kitchen I went to get cleaning supplies. As I cleaned up the pile, it became obvious that this wasn’t real vomit. It wasn’t slimy or anything. This looked like Rudy had filled his mouth with chewed up rawhide and water and spit it out.

Then it was dinner time. I filled Rudy’s bowl and Valencia filled Ozzie’s. Ozzie decided that Rudy’s dry kibble was far superior to his, so he bogarted Rudy’s dinner. Rudy sniffed at Ozzie’s bowl and rejected it, even though it had his favorite wet food mixed in with the dry kibble. Instead, he took a big gulp of water and disappeared from the room. Moments later, Jack called me back into the living room to point out another pile of rawhide bits sitting in water.

You have to realize that dinner preparations were in the works, and appetizers and drinks had been put out for us and their neighbors, so this subplot was evolving in the midst of revelry. Not everyone was aware of it, just the kids, and the mothers, who had to subdue the dog-induced mayhem.

After awhile, we all sat down to dinner and had a wonderful time. My brother-in-law is a wonderful cook and my sister is a marvelous hostess. We decided to ignore Rudy, who periodically turned up with Ozzie’s stuffed animals, Lana’s stuffed animals, and anything he could stuff into his mouth and contaminate. Ozzie was always in the same room as Rudy, but never too close, as if he were saying, “Look, I’m a good dog. I’m nothing like that horrible Rudy.” All in all, it was a great day. I don’t think Rudy will be invited back again, but I’m hoping we will.

* Valencia isn’t her real name. My mother never would have named her after a type of orange. The other names were changed, as well, but not as creatively.

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