Changing Christmas, Christmas Past, COVID Christmas, Dealing with Christmas stress

Merry COVID Christmas

December 29, 2020 Dr. Mike

I created this blog for several reasons, one of them was to develop my writing style. To accomplish this I committed to a few rules, including to be wholly honest and transparent. I felt that this stipulation was necessary to give validation to what I was writing. Unfortunately, I have been only partially successful in meeting this goal.

I am honest when I write about my past, my fears, my ideas, my successes, my failures, and just about anything related to me. However, I have been conscious to not write about situations that those close to me may find awkward. I made this modification early on when I wrote something about a family member and was told, “You embarrassed me.” That event brought back memories of Erma Bombeck, a newspaper columnist from my youth who wrote a hilarious column that often featured the antics of her children. Decades later I found out that her writings caused her kids untold grief as they hated having their exaggerated dirty laundry aired to their neighbors, teachers, and peers.

I am able to see both the good and bad in people and situations, but my nature is to focus on the positive. Some have accused me of being too Pollyanna-ish, but this is just who I am. I had a concern that my more positive view of this holiday season could be upsetting to some readers who felt punished during this time. I don’t want to be the guy who is rubbing joy into someone else’s face. Should I not write about Christmas because it might be a “trigger” for someone? Editors note: I really am starting to hate the word trigger, and its overuse… but here I am using it myself.

I know Christmas was difficult for many, as most normal get-togethers had to be shelved. The same can be said for my family as we had to forgo a variety of celebrations on both sides. Despite these losses, I enjoyed Christmas a lot.

In many ways I am privileged. I’m retired and have a retirement income, most of my kids were home for the holiday, and I am generally healthy. I’m sure these factors impacted my Christmas experience. Could being truthful hurt some of my readers who have less?

After weighing all points I decided to write about my Christmas. Why? Because I understand that the way that we think about a situation has a direct impact on how we experience that situation. This is an important rule that is worth writing about.

One theme that I have repeated in my blog posts is that events and situations are neither good nor bad, they just “are.” As you read this some of you are thinking of exceptions, and are likely muttering something like, “How can you say that the coronavirus is neither good nor bad? Millions have become sick and hundreds of thousands are dead!” You would be correct in your assertion that this virus has inflicted terrible consequences on our world. However, its total effect won’t be known for decades. Believe it or not, some positive may result from this plague. It is possible that the lessons that we have learned from this pandemic will save us from an even more deadly one in the future. -Sadly, there will be more pandemics.

Back to Christmas.

Here are some of the things that I chose to view as negative:

I missed not seeing my close family, friends, and relatives.

Here are some things that I chose to view as positive:

I didn’t have to travel long distances in terrible weather conditions. I have had to make many white knuckle drives during whiteouts and blizzards to attend past Christmas get-togethers.

How did I redesign Christmas for 2020?

There are many unrealistic expectations around Christmas. Is it any surprise that so many are stressed before Christmas and disappointed afterwards? My goal was to extract what my family found significant and to focus on those events. I used a broad strokes approach instead of trying to micromanage everyone’s individual experience.

There are general themes that we focus on at Christmas time.

The reason for the season-

As Christians we use December 25th as a day to honor the birth of Jesus.

Decorating-

We don’t have a showplace Christmas house. In fact, our decorations are a bit on the soft side. We decorate our living room and family room. In recent years I have backed away from doing a lot of outside decorations-I hate taking the stuff down in the bitter cold.

The most significant holiday artifact is our Christmas tree. It is an old artificial one, that seems to lose more “needles” than real trees do. However, we love putting on the tree’s decorations as they all have significance to us. Many ornaments were given as gifts, while others were made by our kids in preschool and grade school. Each placement feels like a little visit with an old friend.

We all decorated our tree, which was filled with memories from the past.

Food-

Food is a major part of any celebration. We usually have our main meal on Christmas Eve. This year I was chief cook and decided to make a beef tenderloin, tossed salad, glazed carrots, scalloped potatoes, and freshly baked yeast rolls. Julie acted as my assistant, easing my responsibility. I was terrified that I would ruin the tenderloin, as its overall cost was akin to a small mortgage payment. Thankfully the meal turned out great.

Our Christmas Eve dinner table was simply set with some very old and much loved Fiestaware.

I was in charge of making Christmas Eve dinner. Happily, it turned out well.

Traditionally Julie makes a brunch on Christmas Day which always includes an egg casserole dish which we refer to as “egg dish.” It is a combination of eggs, bread, ham, and cheese that is prepared the night before to allow everything to meld together. When baked on Christmas morning it turns into a combination of a souffle and a casserole. It is a holiday must-have in Kunaland.

Julie made our Christmas Day brunch. Here she is dusting some Monkey Bread. You can see the “egg dish” far left.

You may be wondering what we had for Christmas Day dinner. Frozen pizza! It is great to make special meals, but none of us wanted to spend the entire holiday cooking.

Desserts-

Another Christmas tradition. William decided to make Grace a favorite dessert and Grace decided to do the same for William. It was their gift to each other. Personally, I love the idea of a gift of service. Both William and Grace shared their dessert gifts with the rest of the family. A sweet holiday for all.

William making Grace some ice cream cone cupcakes, a favorite memory from childhood.

Grace making William a fresh strawberry pound cake, a recent favorite of his.

Gifts-

For decades Julie and I have tried to deemphasize gift giving, but we have been only partially successful. We have come to realize that it is an important part of the holiday, and we now focus on finding things that have meaning rather than things that are just expensive. For instance, the kids know of my love of camping and gave me items like a book on the National Parks. I gave Julie a variety of things, but I also fixed a long-broken lamp that she loves. For us, it is less about the thing and more about the idea behind the thing. With that said, it is a wonderful feeling when someone is thinking about you. Kindness does not have a monetary value.

The kids know that I love camping. Here I have some camping lounge pants!

My Godchild, Jenny had this special “camping style” mask made for me!

Will wanted some flags for his dorm room. Here he is getting in-touch with his inner Slovak.

We had a power outage that lasted several hours on Christmas morning. Julie was disappointed as we couldn’t listen to music. However, I had a wireless bluetooth speaker in Violet the campervan. The speaker plus some Spotify beamed from my phone did the trick!

Julie got a card game that she played as a child. It was a happy memory.

Together time-

We enjoy spending time with each other. Most of our Christmas time together was centered around meals, watching the end of a TV series on a DVD (which was also overdue from the library), and gift opening.

Alone time-

One of the advantages (for introverts like us) was having more alone time this year. There is not much more to say about this as each of us like doing our own thing.

Extended relationships time-

We had a long ZOOM call with Julie’s family on Christmas, and I made sure to contact people during the holiday season via the phone, ZOOM, Facetime, email, Facebook, and texting. As the pandemic has lurched on socializing options, like a group ZOOM call, seem more natural.

We had a long ZOOM call to Julie’s side of the family.

If I summarize what we did for Christmas, it wasn’t much. We remembered why we were celebrating the day, put up simple decorations, had a few nice meals, opened some gifts, and connected with people who were important to us. So why was the holiday special? Because we choose to make it so. Importantly, we focused on what we had instead of what we didn’t have.

I would also like to emphasize that I wasn’t trying to artificially replicate our usual Christmas. Instead, I took important elements from past Christmases and created a new celebration. I did this to avoid the agony of comparison. I didn’t want us to dwell on why we didn’t have X, Y, or Z. Instead, I wanted us to focus on what we did have.

I understand that some of you may be more fortunate than me, and some of you may be less fortunate. However, it is possible for all of us to approach important events in our lives with what we have, or what we can create, rather than what we don’t have or what we are giving up.

When I was working I would often hear tales of miserable Christmas holidays. Some would vacation, but their friends went to more exotic places. Others gave fabulous gifts, but they then had to deal with debt. Still others tried to orchestrate a “Norman Rockwell” Christmas and were upset when things weren’t as perfect as what they imagined. People can be disappointed during the best of times when they choose to focus on what’s missing. It is up to us to make our lives the best that they can be.

Christmas 2020 will only happen once in a lifetime, I refuse to throw this day away in the hopes of a better 2021. Each day is precious, never to be repeated.

Uncategorized

Dr. Fixit At Your Service

December 24, 2020 Dr. Mike

The little boy in me has always liked building and fixing things. I have done limited repair jobs in the past, but I have been hampered by a lack of knowledge, tools, and time.

On occasion, my interest level would overcome these restrictions, and over the years, I have tackled a few projects. I crafted a desk, hand-built many computers, attempted basic home decorating, and completed some other small projects.

When I moved into my house 30 years ago, I subscribed to a home repair “book of the month” club. Every 30 days, I would receive a glossy covered book highlighting a particular topic, like heating and air conditioning repair. When a fix-it task came up, I would dig into that collection, but I often found that I didn’t have the right tools or that the instructions were too generic to help a novice.

Let’s face it, when you are working 60-70 hours a week, it becomes easier to call someone to do your repair work. Also, I have been fortunate to know my friend, Tom. Tom has both the tools and the talent. He has always been happy to help me, and I rely on him for those jobs that are well beyond my pay grade. However, I don’t want to take advantage of Tom’s goodwill. He is busy enough without my demands.

When you have lived in a house for 30 years, appliances break. In fact, they seem to bust more frequently as their technology advances. I still have the basic 1984 electric stove and fridge that came with my home; they now live in my basement. However, the same cannot be said of their much more expensive replacements. Currently, I’m on my third new range, fridge, and dishwasher. These devices promised miracle features, but they were less forthcoming when it came to reliability.

Replacement stove #2 was a technological marvel with a convection oven, bread proofing drawer, induction stovetop, and enough colored LEDs that it could have been mistaken for a Christmas tree. Over the 10 years I had it, the device was repaired at least 3 times. Each service call was more expensive than the last. The Fourth and final repair attempt happened a few years back. The oven had gone nuclear; I would set it for 350F and come back to a meal that had been reduced to charcoal briquettes. The repair guy’s consultation was $150. “I can stay and monitor your temperature rise, but that is going to cost you a lot more,” He said. The man kindly told me how to reprogram the oven’s micro-computer but informed me that if my efforts failed, it would make more sense to buy a new stove, as it was unlikely that they still made the logic boards for my model. I re-calibrated the oven’s thermostat, and I was able to get a few more months of life from the stove, but soon it was back to its old tricks and failed right before Thanksgiving 2018.

Thanksgiving is a big holiday as we have guests arriving from multiple states. Many stay for several days, and they eat all of their meals at our house. The logistics of making Thanksgiving dinner for 20 plus numerous breakfasts, lunches, and dinners are always daunting but felt impossible without a working oven. That year we pulled it off with a microwave, toaster oven, and our old basement range. Basement cooking is not a sustainable option, and we bought another stove the following Monday. Kitchen appliances may be more energy efficient than they were in the past, but that doesn’t offset their additional repair and replacement costs. I can’t say that my life has changed for the better now that I can tap in 350F on a stove’s keypad instead of turning a simple dial.

Julie shouted from the kitchen, “Mike, I don’t think that the dishwasher is working.” “Oh,” I replied. “What makes you think that,” I said. “The dishes don’t look washed,” was her rational reply. “I think you need to fix it.”

Editor’s note: In today’s world of equality, why is it assumed that males are magically endowed with appliance repair knowledge?

I came into the kitchen for a visual inspection. “Yep, they still look dirty,” was my sage response. At this point, I would normally say that we needed to call a repair service. However, the dishwasher is around 10 years old, and I knew that a repair person would charge $150 just to come out. Any repair would likely be several hundred dollars more. In this COVID era, did I really want a stranger in my house, and did I want to spend $300 to have an old machine fixed? It was time to put on a metaphorical hard hat, assume my manly responsibilities, and attempt to fix the appliance myself.

I went to the fount of all knowledge, and I typed into YouTube’s search engine. “Whirlpool dishwasher not cleaning dishes.”. Up popped several videos with titles containing words like “Easy fix” and “Simple repair.” A chill went up my spine. I have gone down “Easy” and “Simple” paths in the past, and I have learned that these words are really code for “Difficult” and “Demoralizing.”

One Christmas, when my girls were small, we purchased an entire play kitchen whose box loudly proclaimed, “Easy assembly, only requires a common screwdriver.” The kitchen had a pretend oven, stove, microwave, and sink. There was a little counter and several cabinets for pretend food and plastic pots. I knew my kids would be thrilled on Christmas morning.

It was Christmas Eve, and both Julie and I were involved with various tasks designed to ease Santa’s burden. By the time I got to the kitchen toy, it was well past 10 PM. I was tired and irritable.

The panels that made up the “kitchen” were made of a molded plastic. The hollow kind that has a waxy candle smell. I scanned the incomprehensible instructions and started to snap Tab A into Slot B. The process was not smooth. Some problems were due to my fatigue and unwillingness to interpret Chinese English into English. I would accomplish one portion of the assembly to discover that I needed to do something else first. Also, the kitchen had at least 100 stickers that had to be precisely placed. Despite all effort, I found that I was putting some stickers in the wrong spots and placing them askew in others. However, this was the least of my problems. The various panels that made up the kitchen’s structure simply would not snap together. In fact, two were almost ¼ inch off. I pushed, swore, and pushed some more. I tried banging the large panels with a hardcover dictionary and even incorporated Julie’s muscle help. It was now well past midnight, and I was in a panic. This was their major gift, and it lay in ruin on our family room floor. I felt wholly inadequate as a father. I couldn’t put together a simple toy that proclaimed that it was easy to assemble. I was a failure.

I was physically agitated, my heart was pounding, and I was sweating. I needed to calm myself. I leaned back in my Lazyboy and popped up its footrest. I closed my eyes and meditated to calm my mind. My breathing started to slow, and my palpitations quieted. “Breath in through the nose, count to 5, exhale slowly from the mouth,” I repeated to myself. I took myself to a quiet place and opened my mind up to new possibilities. Immediately, an answer came to me, but it had to be the wrong answer. “Go into the garage and get your sledgehammer.” “What!” I thought. “Am I supposed to wack this piece of… with a sledgehammer? I’m not that angry!”

I couldn’t run to the store and buy a new present, it was the middle of the night. “What good is all of this meditation if all I can come up with is a ridiculous solution. Universe, give me another answer!” “Get the sledgehammer” was my reply. “You win, but I’m blaming you when my kids are crying tomorrow morning!” I informed the little thought in my head.

I had Julie hold the two offending panels, and I made sure that she was as far as possible from my intended point of impact. I tried a few light taps, nothing happened. I focused again on the target zone. I drew out my arm, and with both energy and intent, I swung the hammer. I momentarily closed my eyes… I didn’t want to see the toy shattered and destroyed. CRACK! And click, the two errant panels mated. The hammer worked! I completed the rest of the job feeling a combination of exhaustion and exhilaration.

My kids played with that “kitchen” for many years, and they have served me countless plastic donuts and pretend cups of coffee that were heated to perfection on decal burners. The kitchen was one of their favorite toys of all time. However, the build experience left an indelible stain on the words “Easy” and “Simple.”

You can now understand why I shuttered when I saw those mocking words on the YouTube videos. But what choice did I have? I had to submit myself; like Princess Leia’s plea was to Obi-Wan, YouTube was my only hope.

The first video told me what to do but didn’t show me how to do it. “Remove the plastic retaining clips,” it commanded. I wondered, “But how?” The second video was more explicit but just made me more confused. “Use your number 20 star driver to release the filter assembly.” To me, screwdrivers only come in two forms, flathead and Phillips. I went digging through my little toolbox and came up with some bits that I thought would fit. Amazingly, I had bought a generic set that had the required star driver. “Victory is mine!” I erroneously thought.

With my MacBook propped up on the kitchen table, I approached the dishwasher and faced another realization. All of the videos that I watched had a freestanding dishwasher, and some even had the door removed. My dishwasher was stuck in the crook of our L shaped counter, which allowed access only from the right side. Just placing my screwdriver required the flexibility of a 14-year-old Olympic-level gymnast. I conjured up ideas of me wearing a Speedo as I attacked the dishwasher’s screws. I quickly and permanently put those thoughts out of my mind. I stretched, made a lot of manly grunting sounds, and stretched some more. I was able to reach the two screws that attach the dishwasher’s pump to the upper sprayer with effort.

Rats, they were not “star tips”; they appeared to be rectangular. I dug into my bit collection and found another bit, and with more grunting (and a little colored language), I removed them. I twisted the column ¼ turn and pulled it out of the dishwasher. This revealed the 4 star screws that held the filter assembly in place. I removed those screws and pried the unit from the dishwasher. With a little more banging and swearing, I was able to dislodge the actual filter from the unit for a close inspection. There was a little grease on the filter, but it didn’t look too bad. I washed it off with dishwashing detergent and started the reassembly process. This time I employed the help of my son William to re-screw the upper sprayer water supply tube. His youth gave him a flexibility advantage.

I found some dirty dishes-an an easy task in our house and loaded them into my newly fixed machine. I dropped in a little packet of detergent, pressed “Normal Cycle,” and hit start. The dishwasher sprang into action, and I could hear the sound of water churning in its chamber. I checked the results an hour later with hopeful anticipation and discovered… That the cups were as dirty as they were when I placed them inside. “Crap and double crap!” I muttered to myself. After a little investigation, I discovered that water was not getting up the mid and top-level sprayers. It was time to revisit YouTube.

Several videos later, I determined that the likely problem was a defective “food chopper,” a part of the dishwasher that chops larger bits of food into ones that can be flushed down the drain. This repair would require going to a level deeper than my “filter clean.”. By now, I was committed and convinced myself that I could tackle this new level of complexity. I logged into Amazon and ordered the chopper assembly for a reasonable $11. I also purchased a real set of screwdrivers for another $35. “The right tool for the right job,” I said to myself. Secretly, I was hoping that the shipment would be delayed.

Two days later, the part and the new screwdrivers arrived. My Kathryn informed me that Julie told her to tell me that the dishwasher needed to be fixed. In a world of email, texting, and FaceTime, we can still practice indirect communication at our home. “Well, then you are going to help me,” I informed Kathryn. “Sure,” was her reply.

The food chopper repair starts with the removal of the same parts as in the filter cleaning job. I approached this portion of the project with the hubris that came from my earlier disassembly successes. The next stage was more challenging but still within my skill level. I removed the plastic housing around the food chopper and pulled out the part. Holy cow, this had to be the problem. The chopper blade was frozen, and there was at least a quarter-inch of super disgusting greasy slime plugging the blade’s mesh plate. No water could get past that mess.

I made the repair, this time utilizing Kathryn to screw in the upper rack feed tube. In went dirty dishes; I programmed in a wash cycle and pressed the start button. After about 30 seconds, I heard the machine fill with water-a hopeful sound. Then it happened… the sound. A sound similar to that of a 747 taking off from 10 feet away. I looked at Kathryn, and Kathryn looked at me. We both raised our eyebrows. “Maybe the chopper needs to work its way in,” I said hopefully. But the sound didn’t go away; in fact, it seemed to get louder. At one point, I thought that the dishwasher was going to take off. “Crap!” I thought. I hit the cancel button to drain the machine.

I pushed down the door, removed the dirty dishes and the racks, disassembled the washers innards, and examined my installation. Honestly, it looked just like it should-at least it looked like the YouTube example. I pondered my options and called on my past experience. I reached up to the counter and located my little tool kit. I felt around until I found it. Yes, this is what I needed… a hammer. I took aim and gave the chopper assembly a good wack. I heard a “click.” Having disassembled and reassembled the unit 6 times, the reassembly job went quickly. I put my dirty dishes back in the machine, pressed buttons, and hoped for the best.

I heard the water enter, then a relay clicked. I held my breath in anticipation. Joy of joys, the 747 had left the runway, and I was greeted with the sweet, sweet sound of my dishwasher humming. I patted myself on the back for my mechanical expertise and felt very manly indeed. It was fixed!

They say that if all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. How true, and in this case, I “nailed” the repair with a hammer. From plastic play kitchens to large kitchen appliances, never doubt the power of a blunt object.

Peace to you, and Merry Christmas!

Mike

This is a real screenshot from one of the videos that I watched. What kind of sick person says this and then tortures me!

I could only approach the dishwasher from its right side.

The base of the dishwasher with many of its innards removed.

Excited about my new deluxe screwdriver set. It’s magnetic, a choice made after I dropped several screws into the washer’s guts.

Watching YouTube videos for guidance. You can see the new food chopper assembly on the right.

Here is the old chopper assembly. It was frozen and thick with disgusting gunk.

Changing Christmas, Christmas newsletters, Christmas Past

The End Of An Era For Me?

December 17, 2020 Dr. Mike

Everyone has an opinion of these iconic fixtures of Christmas. When I was younger, they had a negative reputation, but I never saw them that way. What am I talking about? The Christmas newsletter.

Most of us have memories of families who would create a story so fantastic that their lives glowed brighter than the sun. Some of us have remembrances of tragic letters filled with negatives that left a sour taste in our mouths for days. However, I feel that these extreme correspondences are the outliers. The vast majority of Christmas newsletters are vehicles of connection. They join us with a relative or friend and keep us abreast of the essential milestones in their lives.

Take a person’s Facebook posts and combine them with the posts of other members of their immediate family. Remove all of the junk, the reposts, the cartoons, and the lame jokes. Get rid of the majority of the selfies, and add order and cohesion to the storyline. Then condense all of that information into one or two typed pages. If you are successful, you have created a Christmas newsletter. An amazing document.

Julie’s family has farmers, and their newsletters would educate me about farm life. I always looked forward to reading about their trials and triumphs. Newsletters allowed me to keep up with my college friends. They provided a summary of missed information from those for whom I had more regular content. Newsletter gave me a window into some of my cousin’s lives, individuals with whom I only connected once a year.

Those who send newsletters adopt their own styles. I have received half-sheets of copy paper roughly typed and without adornment. I have also gotten elaborate stories carefully margined onto fancy bordered linen. Every newsletter has its own charm and purpose.

A newsletter shows effort on the sender’s level and provides a level of intimacy with the receiver. This is in contrast with those who only send a signed card. The only information that such an offering gives me is that a person can still sign and stamp.

I have been writing a Christmas newsletter for around 30 years. My initial interest in creating one had more to do with computers than it did with communications. I was fascinated with the ability to do desktop publishing, and I was in the practice of creating brochures and other items for my medical group, Genesis Clinical Services. Initially, the Christmas newsletter was an extension of that interest. For me, it was the perfect “modern” vehicle to connect with those with whom I wanted to stay in touch but was remiss.

I always structured my newsletter with three main categories. Naturally, there would be news of the year. This was standard newsletter fare. Highlights, trips, illnesses, successes, and failures. I wanted the story to be readable and engaging instead of a bulleted list of pros and cons. I always included at least one family photo. Lastly, I would provide a recipe that my family made and enjoyed. This last part was a way to share something of value with my friends and family. Think of the recipes as e-cookies or an e-casserole. In my Eastern European tradition, food is love.

Over the years, I have made many equipment purchases for the Christmas newsletter. I bought my first laser printer and my first color laser printer specifically to produce a better product. My first home scanner was bought to scan photos for the newsletter, as was my first-ever digital camera, a $750 Kodak model that could record a photo in VGA resolution (a tiny 0.3 megapixels). That mid-1990s camera catapulted me into the world of digital photography, a passion that continues to this very day.

Over the years, the Christmas correspondence scene has changed, or at least it has changed for our household. Every year we get fewer cards and even fewer newsletters. The majority of cards that we receive arrive after we send out our newsletter. I have never been sure if the sender’s lateness was due to procrastination or social reciprocation. In other words, they sent us a card because we sent them one.

For years I have asked myself if I wanted to continue the practice of sending out 80-90 newsletters at Christmas. The cost has been a consideration since I have professionally printed them for the last few years. Time is also a factor, as every newsletter requires many individual steps. I have to chronicle the yearly events of 5 people in less than two pages, come up with a recipe, and find (or take) a photo or two. I have to coordinate this information with Julie, who also serves as my chief proofreader. Despite all efforts, I usually find a typo in my final product-not surprising as I have dyslexia, but embarrassing none-the-less.

The creation of the Christmas newsletter has remained important to me, but not for the obvious reasons. The newsletter has become a summary of my family’s history, and a copy goes into our Christmas book. This is the most important reason why I will continue to write the newsletter. It is the same reason why I write this blog. I want those who come after me to know me as a real person, not just a faded image on an ink-jet printed photo. I want the generations that follow mine to understand our family and see its members as individuals who had real lives. So often, I look at an old family photograph and ask, “What was this person really like? What did they have a passion for? What made them angry? What made them happy? How am I like them? How am I different?” A picture can be worth a thousand words if properly executed. However, most snapshots provide only the smallest window into the past.

It has become less relevant to send a physical copy of the newsletter over the last few years. I can publish it on Facebook or email it instead. Yes, there are a few folks where those types of communications are not possible, but in most cases, it is clear that they have little interest in catching up with the Kunas of Kunaland.

This year I finally cut the cord with snail mail. I wrote and formatted the letter and posted it on Facebook, and sent a few select emails. This simplification was a relief. I didn’t have to go to Staples, or get confused with how to mail-merge labels, or coerce my kids into stuffing and stamping envelopes. Those friends who want to catch up on our lives can; those who would prefer to scan past the post are welcome to do that too. I’ll print up a couple copies for our Christmas book and a few for Julie to send to specific people. My plan is to continue my newsletter writing into the future, but gone are the days of stamp and stuff.

I don’t see this year as the end of an era; I see it as the beginning of something new. Times change, and it is OK to change with them.

Merry Christmas to you. Peace on earth, goodwill to all.

Mike

Changing Christmas, Christmas Past, COVID Christmas

It Won’t Be A Norman Rockwell Christmas

December 11, 2020 Dr. Mike

Christmas is coming, but it won’t be a Normal Rockwell Christmas this year. Let’s be honest, Christmas has never been a Norman Rockwell Christmas, as that day is only a construct in an American illustrator’s mind.

It seems like we fall into two Christmas camps. Those who recall stories of disappointed children and drunken uncles, and those who try to create Christmas magic- sometimes by overbuying, overdecorating, and overeating. Before you think that I’m a cynical scrooge, I am here to proclaim that I’m not. But you will need to read further to understand where I’m coming from.

December 25 is a day that has been co-opted over the millennium to serve the needs of a variety of distinct groups. Christians would tell you that it is the day that the Christ was born. However, any informed Bible scholar will admit that Jesus came into the world in the spring. Early Christians appropriated December 25 as it coincided with the pagan festival day that celebrated the sun’s birth (not Son).

The Christmas tree was borrowed from pagan traditions as well and dates back to Egyptian and Roman times. Evergreens reminded the ancients that spring would come.

The concept of Santa Claus references the real Nicholas de Myra (St. Nicholas). A monk who lived around 280 AD. His kind acts to others catapulted him to become the patron saint of children. His birthday is in March, but he is celebrated on December 6 (St. Nicholas Day) by many European cultures. Through literature, movies, and advertising, he was bound to Christmas Day and renamed Santa Claus. His new significance lies in his ability to sell products (gifts) more than anything else.

Advertisers are always looking for ways to increase sales. One way to do this is to introduce a new character or tradition on top of an existing holiday or event. These efforts continue to this very day. Carol Aebersold’s household spy, “The Elf on the Shelf” is a successful product born out of a childhood memory. Kentucky Fried Chicken has had phenomenal success in promoting KFC chicken on Christmas Day in Japan. Their efforts are more remarkable as Japan is not a Christian country.

Other “traditions” abound, including lavish lights and outside decorations. Every corporation gets on the Christmas bandwagon with their products. A walk through my neighborhood revealed not only dazzling light displays but also Christmasfied objects from companies ranging from Volkswagen to Disney. Nothing says Christmas like an AT-AT wearing a Santa hat.

If you are Jewish, there is also a place for you at the Christmas table. You can erect a Hanukah bush instead of a Christmas tree and adorn your house with blue lights in place of the traditional white ones.

Christmas has always been a day to sell. In its earliest incarnation, it was designed to sell Christianity to pagans (by tying Christ’s birth with one of their holidays); more recently, it is used to push consumers to buy things that they don’t need or can’t afford. They are manipulated to feel shame when they can’t give their kids the products that they see on TV, or when they can’t create a day as magical as what they witnessed in a Hallmark movie.

Advertisers sell by creating a problem and then offering a solution. The bigger the problem, the more expensive the solution. In the past, a new pair of boots could be an excellent Christmas gift; now, it is a new car or a fabulous holiday vacation.

By now, you are likely thinking that I’m not Scrooge; instead, I’m Satan. An evil entity who wants to take Christ out of Christmas by being so cynical of one of the most important Christian holidays. Stand down; that is not the case at all. My point is that December 25 is just a marker, a moment in time that can be used as we see fit. It can be a day to celebrate the birth of Jesus, or a day to gather as a family, or a day to sell fruitcakes and game consoles-or all of the above. Since this day is a synthetic fabrication, we don’t have to attach preconceived ideas of how we have to experience it. We have the right to use it as we see fit.

Our family considers it a Christian holiday, and we use December 25 as a way to celebrate the birth of Jesus. It is a day to reflect on the meaning of Christianity. For me, Jesus’s message has never been one of damnation or exclusion. Instead, it has always been one of redemption, acceptance, forgiveness, inclusion, and love. He may have come to us in March, but I’m OK telling him Happy Birthday in December.

Our family usually celebrates many traditions during this time. We play holiday music, we bake cookies, we sing carols. Mostly, we try to let those close to us know that we love them. We typically socialize more and go to a variety of Christmas get-togethers. Those won’t be happening this year for obvious COVID reasons. This saddens me, but it upsets my wife more. We have traveled to Minnesota to see her family every year since 1992, and it has been a time for her to reconnect. A ZOOM call is a poor substitute for game playing, conversations, and her mother’s Christmas cookies.

I talk to my sisters daily. They are very close to their children, but they won’t see them this Christmas. Both of my sisters won’t put a tree up this year, “What’s the point?” they tell me.

I’m here to tell them that there is a point. No, I’m not telling them that they need to put up a tree- remember that it is just a construct. However, I am telling them that there is a point.

I told you what Christmas means to me; no one or no virus can take that away. In some ways, COVID can give me a better Christmas. This year we set up our tree as a family. It is an old artificial one that is missing a few branches. We conceal its shortcomings in the traditional way, by hiding them against the wall. By doing so, we emphasize the tree’s positives, and we negate its negatives. (a point made here).

Julie put on some of her Christmas CDs (yes, we still have CDs) and we all fluffed and assembled the tree. We then went around the house, putting up our other decorations. Most have been used for decades. However, there are always one or two new items coming in and a similar number going out. This year, I printed a smiling photo of Mercury the cat to be used as the insert on her Christmas stocking holder. I also did one of my kids for a photo holding ornament that we found in our ornament box.

Our tree is decorated with memories, and we all relish the thoughts that each object brings. There are many ornaments made by the kids through the years, some with a little photo. There are ornament gifts from past “tree trimming parties” that we held for so many years. We have other ornaments gifted by friends, and some that are so ridiculous that we had to buy them; a bronzed “Q” from Star Trek and a light-up Mustang convertible comes to mind. Some of my favorites are those given to me by patients-a mouse dressed up as a doctor or a handmade Christmas stocking ornament with real pills glued on the red felt sock. We laugh, gasp, and remember. Our tree will never win a decorator’s prize- but it is highly prized by us.

We emphasize kindness during this time. Yesterday I heard a little knock on my bedroom door, it was my daughter, Grace. In her hand was a napkin, and on the napkin were some warm cookies. My sister Carol had reminded me about CPS (Chicago Public Schools) butter cookies, and I had mentioned that memory to my kids. The cookies are simple, made from only four ingredients, but they are delicious.

I attended kindergarten and 1st grade at a CPS school and have fond memories of snack time when a few pennies could buy a little glass bottle of chocolate milk and a cookie. Grace wanted to surprise me and made me some. A pure act of kindness.

This Christmas Day, we will do some of our usual activities. We will read the Christmas story from Luke, or do we do Matthew’s version? -As always, I will need to rely on Julie’s better Bible knowledge to sort that out. We will eat special foods, and open the gifts that we bought each other. It will be a low-key day, but hopefully, one filled with love. Love and kindness are free, but I believe they are much more valuable than any bought thing. It surprises me that many people are afraid to express either emotion as if they indicate weakness rather than strength.

I suspect that the day will end without a lightning bolt from heaven or a divine revelation. However, that is not to say that it won’t be a memorable and significant day. It will be those things because we will make it so.

Dear reader, I hope you can find some peace, a bit of happiness, and perhaps a dollop of joy in this holiday season. Please focus on what you have, and turn your Christmas into what you need it to be. Try to find the positives in your situation instead of wasting energy on what you don’t have or reliving sad thoughts from the past. December 25 is just a day that we have designated to be unique. We have done this for different reasons, some a bit suspect. However, we can take the good from that day and wrap it around ourselves. We control our feelings, not an advertising agency, past memory, or unrealistic expectation.

Peace

Mike

Grace made me some CPS butter cookies. A pure act of kindness.

Here is the CPS butter cookie recipe, we used salted butter in ours.

Our old tree, its deficiencies hidden its beauty emphasized.

Our tree is filled with memories from the past. You can see the “pill sock” in this photo (far left).

I printed this up for Mercury the cat’s Christmas stocking holder. This will assure that Santa fills it with a cat friendly Christmas treat.

As an aside, not everything during the season has to be family oriented. How about taking a peaceful walk where you try to find the hidden beauty of winter?

family, Family and Covid-19, Family relationships, podcast listening, spending time with family

Serial

December 4, 2020 Dr. Mike

Grace asked me if I wanted to try it on the long drive from her Ohio college. It is about a 5-hour trip, so I said, “Sure.” She said that she had heard good things, but was as naive about it as I was.

Grace was referring to an old podcast called “Serial.” To be more specific, she was referencing the first season of that show, which was streamed in 2015. “Serial” hit the podcast world like a storm. It remains the most downloaded podcast ever produced. Naturally, we were years late to jump on the bandwagon. It is common for me to find a great show or program years after the rest of the world has extolled its virtues.

Season One of “Serial” chronicles the case against Adnan Syed. He was convicted of murdering his former girlfriend, Hae Min Lee. When the crime happened he was only 17 and an honor student at a tough Baltimore high school.

The podcast is skillfully narrated by Sarah Koenig, who spent thousands of hours researching the case. She has the gift of pulling you in one direction, then dragging you from that comfort zone. One moment you are convinced that Adnan is innocent, then you are not so sure, then you think he is guilty. This cycle repeats throughout the series. Clearly, Sarah is a master of the plot twist; her skill is more impressive as she is doing this sleight of hand with a real case that has a known outcome. I won’t spoil the story for you any further.

We listened to the first 5 episodes on our trip, the 5th one ending as we pulled into the driveway. Gracie said, “Dad, we can finish the series when we go on walks.” This sounded like a great idea. When Grace is home we often go on long walks together.

Like many things in the Kuna household, we scheduled walk times. Then, we would download a given episode on our iPhones, insert our earbuds, and head off on our hike. Inevitably, we would hit glitches and have to re-synchronize our listening along the way. We knew when we were off when one person was laughing or gasping, and the other walker had no idea why.

These have been a different kind of walks for me. The majority of the time, I’m a solo walker, but when I walk with someone, we converse. I wasn’t sure about sharing a walk while isolating in an earbud cacoon. In some ways, this seemed even too introverted for me. In reality, it is similar to watching a TV show with someone. You are connected with them but differently. We interact during our walks, and we talk about the show afterward. I would never want to give up regular walks, but I do enjoy the added pleasure of these enhanced hikes. It feels like you are going to the movies. You have to plan the event, and you must leave the house. When you return home you reprocess the experience.

Grace and I like to take different routes when we walk. One day we may go downtown, the next day, we may venture into the forest preserves, and on another trip, we may meander to my friend Tom’s home.

When we finished the series, Gracie asked me if I wanted to continue our walk and listens. “Sure,” I said. She picked another 2015 podcast, “Limetown.” We just started this fictional series, which is more akin to a radio show from the past rather than an investigative documentary. I love old radio shows that stretch my imagination, so I’m all in.

We are now accompanied by Will. He has decided to join our “Walk and Listen” experience. We listened to the first episode of “Limetownm” which chronicles the disappearance of over 300 scientists from a utopian communal village. During this inaugural walk, we traveled into the forest preserves, then through a couple of neighborhoods. Our altered path due to Will’s need to be back home for a ZOOM meeting of his research lab group.

I have been enjoying this new activity, and I mention it here to highlight the fact that there are new things that you can do during the pandemic. Sometimes you can creatively come up with a brilliant new idea, or (as in this case) you can do a little remodel on a tried and true one. COVID is creating barriers, but the only thing that is imprisoning us is ourselves.

Early in 2020, many felt that the pandemic would last for a few months. We now know that this was folly. I would urge each of you to expand your horizons in safe ways. “Walk and Listens” may not be your thing, but use our idea as a springboard for your own.

Peace

Mike