If colors were an alphabet, Christmas lights would be a poem written from here to the end of my nightly drives. Red-blue-green stanzas fluoresce out of neighborhoods with 1000 translations of the same spirit, each house a line of free verse or rhymed with the same color along eaves or over bushes, and spelling be damned. I’ve been reading them for a couple of months now (it was a drive-by Christmas season for me), and it’s funny, but some are just electricity and some are indelible warmth. It depends on the house and ultimately, I suppose, on what’s inside.
Christmas Eve was not drive-by for me, however; it was drive-in. This was because of a cool minister named Chad and his family. How to explain? See, while I believe profoundly in a universe of architecture and design, as opposed to Crass Causality, institutionalized religions don’t cut it for me. Nevertheless, I’m pretty well versed in most of them historically and can appreciate their origins, intentions, values and functions. And I’m open-minded -- maybe not so open-minded that my brains fall out, but at least to the level of an agnostic. I’m quite able to synthesize my own Western Christian origins with what I see as universal truths without the troublesome man-made details and ever-changing political correctness. Inevitably I develop lively relationships with thinking Christians, and particularly ministers. (Trying to shortcut this!) So here’s Pastor Chad, who was preaching in Africa when he had an epiphany after his little girl went into remission from leukemia, and played hockey in Russia where he might have ended up in Lubyanka prison for crosschecking, and so we wind up working on each other with him trying to get me to come to his services and me trying to get him to attend mine in the winter woods -- my so-called White Cathedral. So last month he says, “You come to my Christmas Eve service and I’ll visit yours in the woods.” And then he adds an invitation to a Buddhist dinner at his house afterward. Could I turn that down? It got even better when it turned out to be a Jewish neighborhood. Of course, the labels all dissolved into generic warmth and the spirit of everything I know to be true about essential humanity. Chad and his family couldn’t have known how many sparks they kindled on the cold steel of gray memories in me. Color flooded back as I watched his family exchange presents, and when his four young children – Caleb, Mikayla, Annika and Zoe – gave me precious things that they had made for me (see picture below), words failed…
Down curtain. I never talked to a soul Christmas Day, but it seemed like I had.
And I can’t thank fans & friends enough for the kindnesses this Christmas past. The ribbons and creaseless paper on presents especially fascinate me. I’m flat out amazed at people who seem able to wrap a glass of water, while I couldn’t wrap a book in a blanket without having the corners rip through.
BTW, water polo & kayak guru Chuck Hines points out some shocking news about Santa’s reindeer. Females have antlers, and the males shed theirs in the fall, so antlered reindeer in December just have to be…ahem. Rudolph (Rudy) should be Ruby or Trudy. Add the further point that only females could drag a fat old man in a velvet suit around the world without getting lost.
This month’s column over on Storytellersunplugged shamelessly exaggerates the popularity of last month’s column by continuing the exploration of imagination and inspiration. The link: http://storytellersunplugged.com/thomassullivan/2010/01/15/thomas-sullivan-who%e2%80%99s-the-stiff-the-gang-of-5-an-adam-%e2%80%98n%e2%80%99-eve-sleeping-bag/ If you are a bankrupt writer or someone smothered by a routine life, I’ve aimed this at you.
In addition to the Christmas Eve photo below, there are 3 “White Cathedral” photos of skiing at Elm Creek, and one of me holding 2 brass monkeys (see no evil/hear no evil...guess who is speak no evil) from when my boy-child came over on the 27th. There is a photo of Annaliese kissing a snowy evergreen bough on a day when Norby Nation, my adoptive family, and I went sledding. And finally there is a long-ago shot of my children, Colleen & Sean on a tricycle, which I’ve included because Colleen is now grown, married and…pregnant! So the human race expands by 1 next August. Am I ready for this? I’ll be ocean kayaking atoll to atoll inTonga come October. I just hope the kid can handle her/his own paddle by then…
May I invite you to follow me on Twitter? It’s just something fun you can peep at when you want without having to interact. 3 samples of recent Tweets: Put a shelf of the classics in your bathroom and your kids will become educated. 2 bad tacos = 1 chapter Don Quixote... And… If I let my pride become more important than my love, I become quite ordinary. I don’t want to be ordinary. And... Inspired casting: remake of 101 DALMATIANS w/Nancy Pelosi as Cruella DeVille. Here’s the link: http://twitter.com/thomassullivan . I’ll also be happy to put you on the mailing list for free newsletters packed with stories and adventures, including photos, if you email me at: mn333mn@earthlink.net . If you’re reading this on a mirror site, it may not have photos. Past columns and newsletters w/photos are archived at the author’s website below under News & Articles. The newest ones are usually up within a day of being sent out. Happy 2K10!
Thomas “Sully” Sullivan
http://www.thomassullivanauthor.com
http://twitter.com/thomassullivan
