Pull up a chair, friend. You’ll find no hockey tales here this week. Let me tell you instead of the day I made a stupid decision that could’ve very truly ended up hurting my family and myself.

It was yesterday, actually. I woke up to a storm warning. 18-20 inches of snow were supposed to fall between noon Friday and noon Sunday. That’s a lot of snow. That’s the most snow that I can remember since I moved to West Virginia (not that I’m bragging, Canadian friends).

At about 2:45 it started snowing. At about 3:30, my family and I decided to go down our little hill “before things got bad” to pick up a few more things at Walmart and maybe do some Christmas shopping.

We got in the car, and got to the pavement, and I thought… ooh, this is slick. We drove down the hill. Drove is generous. It was more like a controlled slide, if I’m honest. But, we made it to the bottom of the hill. We only saw the remnants of one car skidding into a guard rail.

The drive from the top of our hill to the bottom takes, on a normal day, a minute, minute and a half. We got to the bottom in about 10, and saw that things were only getting worse. I ran into the gas station, got some snack food, and got back in the car to go back up the hill.

As I attempted to turn up the hill, I realized that there was a long line of cars, not moving. So, we went back to the gas station, circled around until we saw the line up gone, and started up the hill.

The line up was gone… 500 feet further up the hill, around the bend. So, we came to a complete stop again, for about 10 minutes or so. The line up moved again. Then it came to a complete stop. Conditions were getting worse. It was harder to get the car going on the incline. I tried to keep my tires in fresh snow for traction, but there was slush turning to ice under there.

The line moved again. A serious culprit in all this was a rear-wheel drive pick up truck that couldn’t get any traction. He was getting towed. Then, a car coming the other way hit him. Great. Stop the line again, probably another 1500 feet up.

They finally, after about another ten minutes, got him out of the way. There were two vehicles in front of me who had stopped as they tried to make an inclined curve. Stopping on an incline is bad. Stopping on an inclined curve is worse. I watched as one woman got out of her car and let someone else drive it. I watched as he nearly lost it over the edge. I watched the next car do the same. The car behind me decided that instead of leaving significant space between us, he’d just get as close as he could.

We watched an F250 superduty try to put on his brakes up the road about 100 feet. His wheels stopped turning, but his vehicle didn’t stop moving. Sideways. Are we ever going to make it home?

At about this time, the boy started getting antsy. Rebecca kept him calm, but I was fairly shaking with the stress of the situation. Vehicles coming the other way were obviously having a hard time keeping controlled. Finally, it was our shot. We went 100 feet, and then one of the guys who was “helping” came up to the window. We stopped (why I stopped, I’ll never know.) We had a terrible time getting started again, but thankfully those 3-month-old all seasons kicked in. We weaved through some stopped traffic on another curve… the worst one on the hill. I told Rebecca afterward that if someone had been walking through there, I probably would’ve just laid on the horn. If we’d gotten stopped there, we wouldn’t have been able to get started again.

Graciously, God brought us to the top of the hill. I looked down the long, steep driveway on the side of the hill, with the curve, and sure enough, there was a car sideways in it. We kept on going on the main road to a clear parking area, parked the car, and got out.

I think the only other time I’ve shaken that hard was when… shoot, I don’t know that I’ve ever shaken that hard. We walked 500 feet or so down the hill, to the house and came through the door. We said a prayer of thanks, because there were about a hundred chances for a car accident, for the car to go off the road, for someone else to hurt us, or get hurt by us.

It reminded me of something my father-in-law often says. “I said to the Lord, if you’ll get me out of this one, I’ll do my best to stay out of the next one.”

The car is still parked up in the parking area off the main road. Could somebody have hit it? You know, the possibility exists. I guess I’ll find out when the snow stops. Sunday maybe? At least we’re home, together, and safe. Praise the Lord. I hope I never do anything so stupid again.

Continuing the theme of Christmas television, have you noticed any difference this year? I may just be noticing it because it’s the first Christmas season around which we’ve had television (hockey season + basketball season + winter olympics made it a worth-while deal), but it seems like the general flavor of Christmas television has changed somewhat.

Christmas?

For example: featuring prominently on ABC Family’s “25 days of Christmas” line up, along with several lame Christmas movies and one or two good ones: Mary Poppins, three Harry Potter movies, Happy Feet (there’s some snow in that one, I’ll give them that), Cars, Ratatouille, and the Incredibles.

Now, I don’t have anything against any of those movies, but it’s a theme that continues across many channels. American Movie Classics? Three nights ago, White Christmas and Holiday Inn. Last night? The Matrix Reloaded and Revolutions. Now, there are some religious leanings in the Matrix, but the story of the coming of what the Wachowski brothers call “The One” is not the same as the story of the coming of God’s son.

All that to say, I observe a general trend downward of actual “Christmas” content, and while I don’t find it at all surprising, I do find it a little bit depressing. I know that Holiday Inn isn’t more “Christian” than The Matrix Reloaded, but I do feel like the “good cheer” aspect of many Christmas movies is likely an outflow of the true good news that undergirded the cultural understanding that was the environment in earlier days of the great “settlement of North America” experiment. I mourn that loss, even while realizing that it was the exception, not the rule — and Jesus made that clear.

I woke up this morning with a holiday “classic” firmly in mind… namely Home Alone, for the “We Slept In” scene. I’ll let you draw your own inferences.

It got me thinking though, about movies that are true holiday classics. You know, like Holiday Inn… It’s a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th St., Ernest saves Christmas.

One of those doesn’t belong in that list. But, Christmas is a great time to catch some classic films. I think I’d probably have to declare Holiday Inn my favorite… this year, at least. Particularly because it gets slighted in favor of “White Christmas,” even though the song White Christmas appeared in Holiday Inn first. I digress… what Christmas classic are you looking forward to watching?

9 days until Christmas. So far, I’ve only physically shopped for two items. Out of a total of 10 purchases, I feel like I’m doing pretty good. I’m frequently reminded of just how bizarre our lives have become. As a reader of science fiction (including some older stuff), I’ve read what the “leading minds” (ie, people who had time to sit around and come up with the craziest ideas possible) thought life would be like as technology advanced. While they were right on in some ways, it seems to me that they missed the boat both in terms of commerce and labor.

Every morning as I walk down to my office — in my house — and start another work day, I’m reminded of how far we’ve come. Shopping for Christmas takes it another step. I tell a computer what I want, I provide payment, and someone, somewhere in a warehouse, picks it off a shelf and gets it ready to send. In most cases, I have it in just a few days.

Now if I could just get my personalized jet pack and a robo-maid for the house. I’d probably name her… Rosie.

Christmas is always a fun time to keep an eye/ear out for local advertisements. People who otherwise would never allow themselves to be put in front of a camera or a microphone get manipulated into it by a family member who is likewise a business owner, and the results are, oftentimes, hilarious. There’s one playing locally that features the business owner’s grandchildren singing jingle bells. Cute right? What makes it epic is that one of the grandchildren can’t carry a tune… and also positioned his or herself right by the microphone. It’s intense enough to make me go, “Honey… do you hear that? What is that?” Makes me hope for a day where I too can force my family members to do embarrassing things… and when that day comes, you can rest assured, you’ll find the embarrassment here, first!

There’s something intangibly great about having something done for you that makes obvious the love someone feels for you. In my life, it is frequently my wife who does those things. It’s little things like Nacho Doritos (she prefers cool ranch, but knows my weak spot), big things like having 30 minutes after work is done to wind down before we start in on our evening business.

Those things make my life easier and help me maintain my sanity, and that’s motivating.

I mean, it’s a tough game anyway. Guys run into you, you lose teeth, goalies spend their time getting shot at… but…


When your own teammates are doing this to you… well, you know it’s a rough game to survive!

I remember when we had to walk to school in worse than this… Uphill. Only one way. The way to school, naturally!

It’s -16 c in Southern West Virginia this morning. For those of you who can’t handle conversions, that’s pretty stinking cold Fahrenheit. Not that it directly impacts me at all, but they’ve issued a two hour school delay so that kids won’t have to wait for buses in the cold.  Naturally, it was an affront to my Canadian sensibilities… “No ice covering the world? No snow on the ground? Not even twenty below? And you’re delaying school?”

I’m pretty sure I said something about walking to school barefoot next. And how we had to use barb wire for traction. None of that was true, but it made me feel better about things.

And then I realized… at 26, I’ve already romanticized my childhood to the point where I’m offended by these punk kids getting an easy out. I thought you weren’t supposed to be like this until you were, I dunno, 90?

Oh well.

As I recall, they didn’t let us take a lunch back then either… they sent us out for recess, and it was a rush to the trees.

After all, the best bark to chew on is the bark near the bottom.

Continuing the theme, I was reminded yesterday (via a facebook posting, in fact) that, when it comes to Christmas memories, it’s typically not the gifts we received that we remember, but the times we spent together.

I started thinking about that. In my childhood, there are maybe two or three gifts I can remember if I work for it… the Nintendo Entertainment System, Lego, and the Dick Tracy Detective kit. Matt and I got matching sets. We investigated crimes. A little later in life (I think I was 14), I got a guitar for Christmas. That was pretty memorable. A couple years later, I got another. Also quite memorable.

But, I will admit that these are not my primary memories of Christmas. I have far more memories of family things… like playing cards with my brothers between 2 am and 5 am so that we could not be obsessing about when mom and dad would let us get up. Then, waking mom and dad up early and trying to talk mom and dad into bucking the tradition of stockings, breakfast, then presents. They didn’t break. I love that.

I remember trips to Oshawa and Peterborough. I remember our first Christmas in Puerto Rico, going to the beach on Christmas day. It was fun, but it wasn’t as fun as visiting family in Oshawa and Peterborough.

So, yes, I’d have to concur with the facebook post. My memories of family time together around Christmas are much clearer to me than my memories of gifts I received. More important to me, too.

It feels like multiple business entities are trying to work the “Avoid Commercialism… just buy this” angle this year. It’s feels unintentionally (or maybe intentionally) ironic. I think it’s likely because we’re using terms that are hard to define. When people talk about commercializing Christmas, we’re mostly talking about the marketing frenzy that goes on around Christmas. But, if you’re buying anything at all, aren’t you contributing to “commerce” (hence commercialism)? It seems to me that we need to figure out exactly what it is that we’re really frustrated with when it comes to the way Christmas is treated.I don’t think it’s just the buying — I think it’s the co-opting of so many things that we hold dear by marketers who are interested in nothing except for how to manipulate us to buy more.

But, I could be wrong. Tell me if I am!