Christmas

Day 7: The Test

/ Joe Broadmeadow / Leave a comment

The first Joe realized the bonds no longer held him was when the Nowhere Man took him by the hand.

“Come with me. I want to show you something.”

Joe stood, looked around trying to look for an exit, then followed the Nowhere Man.

“It’s that way,” the man said, pointing without looking at Joe.

“What is?” Joe said.

“The door. But it will do you no good. There’s nothing out there and nowhere to go,” he stopped walking and folded his arms. “Go ahead, try if you want, I’ll be right here when you get back.”

Joe glanced toward the door and then back at the Nowhere Man. “Nah, I want to hear your story and why you’ve stolen the gift of possibility.”

The Nowhere Man nodded. “All in good time, Joe. And time is all we have here.”

“Can I ask you something, Mr., ah…” Joe said. “What do I call you?”

“I am known as Desperatus.”

“Known by who?” Joe said, while a murky memory buried deep in his mind struggled to get to the surface. “Is there anybody else here?”

Desperatus shook his head. “No, I am quite alone. But in a former life, that was my name.”

“Where are we going?” Joe asked.

“We are here,” Desperatus said, standing in front of a large curtain.

Joe came to stand next to him. “What’s this?”

Desperatus pulled the curtain back and Joe could see into a gigantic room filled with all sorts of toys and games. Ghostly images of kids played with drones and dolls and all manner of things.

GI Joes marched around the room. Harry Potter characters danced in the air. Children in all ages of dress squealed with delight as they tore open Christmas presents.

The images would fade from scenes from last Christmas into scenes from long ago with little boys using a stick to push a hoop along a dusty road. Then a group of little girls would appear, gathered around a small table, pretending to serve tea.

Some sights would flash by in an instant, others lingered for a time, but nothing ever stayed the same.

“What are these things?” Joe asked.

“This is what believing in possibilities does,” Desperatus said. “These precious possibilities Santa has given for years never last. They are not real. They are false hopes that lead to disappointment.”

“That’s not true,” Joe said. “I believe in possibilities.”

“Of course you do.  You’re a kid. But kids grow up and never remember these dreams. I’ve saved them the disappointment that comes with growing up.”

“No, you haven’t,” Joe said. “You’ve taken away the best part of being a kid. You’re not interested in saving anyone. You’re just angry you no longer believe.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Here they are and here they’ll stay and there is nothing you, or anyone else, can do about it.”

“We’ll see about that!” Joe said, heading toward the door.

“Go ahead,” Desperatus said. “Even if you managed to find a way back, they won’t remember you. I’ve taken away all their memories. You no longer exist as far as they are concerned.”

Joe thought for a moment. Something nagged at him. Something his grandfather always used to say. ‘Things are often not what they seem.’ Maybe this was what he knew I would face someday.

“Why keep me and let the others go?” Joe said. “If you have the power to steal memories, then why not just steal mine as well so I’d forget all about you?”

The truth is more often revealed by what people don’t say than what they do say. Desperatus pausing before he answered was one of those moments.

“I owe you no explanation.”

“True. You don’t owe me anything,” Joe said, “but I am here because you kept me here. If there is something you want from me, or need from me, just tell me.”

Desperatus glanced around, then mouthed the words, “wait for me outside.” He glanced around again, then walked away.

Joe watched as this Nowhere Man disappeared around the corner. A moment of indecision wracked Joe’s brain. Was this a trick? A trap? Was it true his grandfather no longer remembered him?

Then a thought occurred to him. Santa sent me here because I believe in possibilities. Maybe that is what I need to do. To show Desperatus that possibilities can last lifetime. And every possibility has the potential to turn out well, but even if it doesn’t there is always more to come.

Joe headed toward the door, hesitated before opening it, then yanked it open.

Before him was the last thing he ever expected.  There in the snow-covered field was the sleigh, reindeer, Levi David, Wyatt James, Desperatus, and Joe’s grandfather all waiting on him. Smiles all around.

“What’s this?” Joe said, “This can’t possibly be another of your jokes, grandfather. Can it?”

Joe’s grandfather shook his head. “No, my boy, even I couldn’t pull this off. My friend here and Santa had to be certain you were ready.”

“Ready for what?” Joe asked.

“The part about someone has taken the gift of possibilities is all true. There’s more to it, but you need to learn this on your own. We had to be sure that, with all the obstacles you’ll face, you’d choose to see the possibility of success.

“When you walked out that door,” his grandfather said. “We all knew you were the one. My friend here threw a lot at you, and it didn’t matter,” then he hugged Joe.  “Of course, I never doubted it.”

“So Desperatus is a friend?” Joe asked.

“The best,” Joe’s grandfather said. “And, of course that’s not his real name.”

“Desperatus means hopeless in Latin, right?” Joe said.

His grandfather smiled. “And your mother said I was wasting time reading Latin to you before you could even walk.”

“I knew there was something about that name that was familiar.”

“His real name is Spero. And he needs our help in finding out where the real Nowhere Man is and where he has hidden Santa’s gift.”

Joe smiled at the thought, ‘Spero, Latin for hope.’

Tomorrow: Nowhere is a Long Way from Everywhere

Day 6: The Nowhere Man

/ Joe Broadmeadow / Leave a comment

One moment the sleigh was slipping silently over a dark, treeless landscape, then the next it seemed they were plummeting from the sky.

“Hold on, Joe!” his grandfather said.

“Really?” Joe said, grasping the edge of the sleigh as tight as he could. “That never occurred to me. Hold on, brilliant. My mother is gonna be mad if you get us killed.”

Just as the sleigh seemed ready to crash, the reindeer pulled up and landed. Levi David turned to face the rear. “Thank you for flying Santa airways, please remember to take all carryon items with you.” Then let out a laugh.

“The whole world is full of wise guys,” Joe said, jumping from the sleigh. His grandfather climbed down after him.

“Did I miss anything good,” he asked. “I slept most of the way.”

“Slept?”

“Yeah, I’m a big fan of naps,” his grandfather said, stretching.

Joe shook his head. “Where are we?”

“Exactly where you asked to be,” Wyatt James said. “Welcome to Nowhere. Now what?”

“Now we go looking for the nowhere man,” Joe said, turning around, trying to get oriented. When he turned back, his heart skipped a beat. The look in his eyes gave his shock at the sight away.

“What’s the matter, Joe? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” his grandfather said.

Joe was unable to speak for a moment, then said. “Your ears, grandfather, they’re…ah… they’re…”

“Pointed?” his grandfather said, smiling.

“Yeah, pointed. And you have a beard! What’s that all about?”

“Yeah, I probably should have warned you,” his grandfather said. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to them.”

“I guess, it’s just, well why?” Joe said.

“Part of our heritage, my boy. You’ll find the ears quite comfortable and a great improvement in your sensitivity to sounds.”

“Why would I…” then Joe reached up to his ears. “Points! My ears have points! What’s happening?”

“You didn’t tell him, did you,” Levi David said, walking over. “Did you think he wouldn’t notice?”

“No, well, I just forgot,” Joe’s grandfather said. “I’m used to them.”

“Now you are,” Wyatt James said. “But I seem to recall you trying to yank them off when this first happened to you during that time when the toy supplies were taken.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that too.”

“Joe,” Levi David said, “what your clueless grandfather here should have done was tell you about your heritage. You are what we elves like to call a blend. You are a human boy with elfin blood. There aren’t many of you, but you play an important role protecting Christmas.

“Whenever you are involved in something for Santa, and everything involving Santa has elves, your hidden elf comes to the surface. I know this is a bit of a shock, but you will come to accept it.”

Joe kept rubbing his ears. “Yeah, but what if somebody sees me?”

Levi reached over and pulled Joe’s hands away from his ears. “Here’s a little advice from experience, don’t keep rubbing your ears, they’ll get red and irritated and it is not a pleasant feeling.

“And don’t worry about others finding out, at least the non-magical. Almost no one will know about you. But remember this: all magical creatures recognize one another, and they are not all friendly.”

Joe started to reach for his ears again, then pulled his hand back. “Ah, anything else I should know, grandfather?”

The two elves and Joe stared at the now embarrassed old man. “Nope, that’s it. The occasional pointy ears. Sorry, pal, I should’ve told you.”

“Okay,” Joe said, “you’re forgiven. Now let’s go find the nowhere man.”

Making their way through the snow, without the slightest hint of any trail or signs of other creatures, the troop trudged along.

“Any idea where we are going?” Joe’s grandfather asked.

“Not really,” Joe answered, “I just remember reading something about letting the terrain lead you. I hope I remembered that right.”

They marched on for what seemed like hours before Joe stopped them.

“Listen,” he said.

The group stood in silence, straining to hear.

“Hear it?” Joe said.

Joe’s grandfather leaned toward him. “Told you those ears would be useful.”

“Shh,” Joe said. “Listen!”

Faint at first, then becoming more distinct, they could hear someone, or something, humming.

“Where’s it coming from?” Levi David asked.

“Over that ridge,” Joe said, pointing. “Let’s go but be quiet.”

Making their way to the top of the ridge, they stayed low to the ground trying to spot the source of the sound. A sudden wind swirled snow all around masking their view. But occasionally, they could make out movement.

“There,” Joe pointed. “It’s right there and it’s moving this way. We better…” But before he finished his sentence, he was blinded by sudden flash of light and painfully loud noise. 

Then nothing by silence.

Joe felt around, pushing himself to sit, trying to clear his mind. Light and shadows danced in his eyes. He felt the heat of a fire and the flame soon came into focus. Finding himself in an overstuffed chair in front of a huge stone fireplace, he tried to make sense of the confusing scene.

“Comfortable?” a voice said, raspy, almost grating on the ears, coming from his left.

“Where am I?” Joe said.

“Exactly where you wanted to be, nowhere,” the voice said.

“Where is everyone else?” Joe said, looking around, trying to see the shadowy figure in the next chair.

“They’re fine, back in Christmas town by now. Of course, by now the memory is gone.”

“They left me?” Joe said. “I don’t believe that.” He tried to rise but couldn’t move off the chair. He saw nothing holding him but still couldn’t stand. “And what do you mean, the memory is gone?”

“If you agree to behave, I will release the bonds that hold you,” the creature said. “And explain.”

“Okay, fine. But you better not have harmed them,” Joe said.

“I’ve never harmed anyone in my entire life.”

Tomorrow: The Test

Day 4: Journey

/ Joe Broadmeadow / Leave a comment

Day 4: Journey

The sleigh descended in a gentle spiral, giving Joe a view of a brightly lit town bustling with elves and reindeer dashing here and there.

“Is that…?”

“Yup, the one and only,” his grandfather said. “Cool how I can anticipate your questions, eh?”

“Ah, not much of a trick since I am in a sleigh piloted by elves and pulled by reindeer. The question was more rhetorical.”

“Will you listen to him, Levi David,” his grandfather said, winking at the elf. “All these big words from our resident genius here.”

“I can read, you know, grandfather.”

“I know, I know,” his grandfather laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “And it’s because you can read that we are here.”

Joe’s face scrunched up. “Huh?”

His grandfather pointed. “Here’s comes someone to explain. And before you say, is that…it is.”

“Hello there, Joe,” Santa Claus himself said. “Thanks for coming.”

“You’re welcome, but I was sort of kidnapped.”

Santa put his hands together. “I see he has your sense of humor, Liam. I am not surprised. He comes from a long line of wise guys.”

Joe’s grandfather shrugged his shoulders. “We grow ‘em right in Cumberland. Not intimidated by anyone.”

“Let’s hope so,” Santa said. “Now, Joe, I bet you’re curious about why you’re here.”

“You might say that.”

“You know about our Journey, Engage, Believe process?”

“My mom told me grandfather used to say it all the time, but I’m not sure how that has anything to do with me.”

 “Because I need you to go on a journey, find whoever has taken something from me, engage with them, convince them to return it, and help the world believe in possibilities again.”

“Me?” Joe said, “Why me? I’m not magical. I can’t fly around the world in one night like you. What can I do that you can’t?”

“That is true,” Santa said. “Yet you have something inside you few people have.”

“I do?” Joe said, glancing at his grandfather.

“Like your grandfather here, and his grandfather before him, in a line going back centuries, you have the gift of believing in possibilities. Most people have lost it. When I sensed the world was losing its ability to believe in the possible, I began giving it out. I used to add it to all the gifts I deliver, but someone has taken that ability away.

“And the troubling part is, at first, I never even noticed. I just assumed it was with each gift, then I started to notice a change in the world. People lost their ability to imagine, to dream, to wonder. It took me a while to figure it out. Once I did, I sent for your grandfather and he told me he had just the person for the job, you.”

“I still don’t understand,” Joe said.

Santa nodded at one of the elves who seemed to disappear then reappear in a flash. He handed a wrapped gift to Santa.

Santa handed the gift to Joe.

“What’s inside, Joe?” Santa asked.

Joe shrugged, turning the gift over in his hands, getting a feel for the weight. “I’d have to open it to see,” he said.

“What could it be?” Santa asked.

“Oh, I don’t know, a lot of things. “A model plane, a car, a video game, lots of things.”

“Open it,” Santa said.

Tearing the paper off the box, he popped the tape and opened the box. It was empty.

“There’s nothing inside,” Joe said, holding the box open. “It’s empty.”

‘And yet, just a moment ago, it was full of possibilities,” Santa said. “You never for a moment believed it to be an empty box.”

Joe nodded, handing the box back to the elf.

“And if there had been, say, a rocket ship inside?” Santa said, putting his hand on Joe’s shoulder, “What would you have done with such a gift?”

“Played with it. Make believe it was flying to the stars.”

“You see my point?” Santa said.

“I believe in possibilities?” Joe answered, a bit unsure.

“Exactly,’ Santa said, “and that ability to believe in possibilities is what is missing in our world. People now focus on getting the box open, not seeing the possibilities. And I need you to find out why.”

“But why do I still believe in possibilities if the rest of the world doesn’t?” Joe asked.

“That, my boy, is the fortune of birth,” Santa said. “When all this started,” waving his hands at the elves, reindeer, and workshops around him, “it began because I and a few others, like your grandfather and all the grandfathers before him, believed in possibilities.

“When a little boy or girl holds a toy plane and pretends to fly through the sky, they are seeing the possibilities. When a young girl or boy looks through a telescope, they are looking into a universe full of possibilities.

“We need to get the power of possibility back so it can be given to everyone. It is believing in possibilities that makes our world a better place. It is the whole reason for the spirit of Christmas. This spirit isn’t a thing, or a gift, or even the act of giving, it is the power of believing we can make a difference in the world. Believing it is possible to make the world a better place. Starting with your family and friends then reaching out to the whole world.”

Joe stayed silent for a moment, there was a lot to take in. “Okay, I’ll do it but where do I even begin?”

Santa turned to look at Joe’s grandfather. “Liam?”

“We start at the beginning,” the old man said. “There are, pardon the pun, a lot of possibilities for what’s happened.”

“I will leave it in your capable hands, Liam,” Santa said. “Levi David and Wyatt James will be but a thought away should you need them.” He turned to face Joe, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Whatever happens, Joe, never let anyone or anything take away your belief in possibilities, okay?”

“That’s not even a possibility, Santa,” Joe said with a smile.

Santa let out one of his world-famous laughs. “Hah, you gotta love this kid.” And he disappeared in a flash, the laughter still echoing of the snow-covered mountains.

Joe looked at his grandfather, “Now what?”

“Now, we get you back to school so you’re not late. Then we get started after you get out.”

“How we gonna do that?” Joe said. “No matter how fast the sleigh travels it can’t go back in time. I’m already late.”

Joe’s grandfather tilted his head, giving Joe a ‘think about it’ look.

“Ah,” Joe said when the light went on. “Travel in the sleigh slows down time, right?”

“Right you are,” the old man winked at Joe. “And by my calculations we have just enough of time remaining to get you to school. Let’s go.”

Back onboard the sleigh, Joe sat in silence.

“Something wrong?” his grandfather asked.

“No, no, just thinking about…”

“Possibilities?” his grandfather said.

Joe smiled. “Yup, possibilities.”

Tomorrow: The Journey to the Land of Nowhere

Day 3: Open Your Mind to the Magic

/ Joe Broadmeadow / Leave a comment

As Joe made his way along the sidewalk, his grandfather fell into step with him.

“Where’d you come from?” Joe asked.

“Well, Ireland originally by way of New York, a long year spent on a government all-expense paid trip to Vietnam during the war, then back to Providence, and then here in good ole’ Cumberland, Rhode Island where I had the good fortune to trick your grandmother into marrying me.”

Joe shook his head. “I know that, Grandfather, I meant just now.”

“Ah, well then, I came from where I was and now, I am here.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “Do you ever just keep it simple?”

“Nope,” the old man said, a huge smile lighting up his face, “life’s complicated, but I do try to make it enjoyable. Are you ready?”

“Ah, ready for what? In case you haven’t noticed, despite all the clues like a backpack and lunch bag,” he held them up for the man to see, “I am on my way to school. Oh, and thanks for the backpack.”

“Well, first, you’re welcome. Second, you are indeed on your way, probably not where you expected to go, but you are on the way. You’ll get to school just a bit late.”

“Ah, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You don’t even know what the idea is yet,” his grandfather said.

Joe stopped walking, turning to face the old man. “Okay, I’ll play along. What is this? Is this an elaborate new prank you’ve devised?’

“Oh, ye of little faith,” his grandfather said. “Follow me.”

Without waiting for Joe, the old man headed down a path into the woods, disappearing into the trees. Joe glanced around, checked the time on his cellphone, shrugged, then followed the old man down the path. It occurred to him he’d never noticed this path before.

“If the school calls my mom, you’re coming with me to explain as part of my defense,” Joe said, jogging to catch up.

When Joe came into the clearing, he stopped dead in his tracks. Closing his eyes for a moment, thinking he must still be dreaming, he slowly reopened them.

“No worries, Joe. Time does sometimes wait while we follow our hearts. No one will even notice you’re missing.”

“Ah, is that?” Joe said, trying to take it all in.

“Indeed, it is, my boy. Let me introduce you to my good friends, Levi David, head flying coordinator elf for Santa’s reindeer and Wyatt James, chief elf training pilot.”

“Ah, they’re elves,” Joe said, glancing between his smiling grandfather and the two elves waving at him.

“I told you he was smart,” his grandfather said, winking at the elves. “Nothing gets by him.”

“Ah, wha, what are we doing here?” Joe said.

“Tell you what,” his grandfather said, pushing him toward the sleigh. “Why don’t we climb aboard, enjoy the ride, and I’ll explain everything. You don’t get airsick, do you?”

Joe looked at him as he took a seat. “How would I know? I’ve never flown in a sleigh before.”

“Excellent point,” his grandfather said. “Just lean over the edge if something comes up,” he let out a laugh. “We’ll avoid residential areas while you get your wings. You didn’t have a big breakfast, did you?”

“Wings?” Joe asked, eyes wide as he stared at the old man.

“It’s an expression, Joe, just an expression. You’ll be fine. I only tossed my cookies once but that was during a blizzard.”

“You’ve done this before?”

“Couple of times, whenever the call came.”

When Joe turned to look over the edge of the sleigh, he realized they were already flying. He’d never felt anything.

“I’m a good pilot,” Wyatt James said. “You’ll be fine.”

“How’d you know what I was thinking?” Joe asked.

“It’s an elf skill,” Wyatt James said. “We sense these things.”

Joe settled back and enjoyed the moment. Despite being in an open sleigh flying through an early morning December sky, he felt no chill or wind. Light snow had fallen the night before giving a shimmering glow to the ground, sparkling like diamonds. But in the sleigh, he was nice and warm.

He tapped his grandfather on his shoulder.

“Where are we going?”

His grandfather leaned over, pointed at the lettering on the backpack, and tapped the letter J.

“This is the first part, the Journey.”

Tomorrow: Journey

The Christmas Spirit (including its namesake)

/ / 5 Comments

A misquote attributed to J. D. Salinger in the book Catcher in the Rye goes something like this.

“If Christ could see Christmas, he’d puke.”

But like many “quotes” attributed to famous people—to give them the weight of intellectual or literary authority—this is not what he wrote as dialog for Holden Caulfield. What Salinger wrote is much more aligned with the rest of this piece. Here’s what Caulfield said in the book after seeing a Christmas show at Radio City Music Hall,

“I said old Jesus probably would’ve puked if he could see it—all those fancy costumes and all.”

J. D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye.

Those with another purpose then twisted Salinger’s words, that the historical Jesus would have been offended by “those fancy costumes,” into the more erudite, “If Christ could see Christmas, he would puke.”

I think in either case, it misses the mark completely.

Assuming for the sake of argument there was a historic figure, Jesus of Nazareth—leaving aside the whole virgin birth, son of god, risen from the dead elements. And assuming the elements of the faith he preached about doing undo others as you would have them do unto you is an effective summary, I don’t think he’d puke at all.

“I said old Jesus probably would’ve puked if He could see it—all those fancy costumes and all.”

J.D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye

While one can make an argument about the distortion of consumerism and the glitz of the decorations, that same consumerism puts food on the table of those who produce and sell those goods. And the act of giving gifts to others, paid for by those jobs, meshes pretty well with the elemental spirit of “old Jesus.”

Perhaps if they had just created a few bumper stickers for their camels or roadside signs on the road to Jerusalem instead of writing the bible, more people would have understood the message and not twisted it to their own purposes.

As a young boy, they subjected me to a Catholic upbringing. I became Catholic not by choice but by virtue of the geography and lineage of my birth. Richard Dawkins compares the spread of religion to that of a virus. Your parents, or guardians, are the host spreading the virus onto their off-spring who do the same thing.

In the entire time I attended the Catholic Church and while growing up in Cumberland, RI, I met no one whose religion differed from their parents. It was remarkably consistent.

Which brings me back to the concept of the Christmas Spirit. Inevitably, over the coming weeks, one will see those very effective bumper stickers that say, “Put Christ back in Christmas.”

I would argue he was never out of it. That time and society has drifted away from the purely religious mysticism and turned Christmas into a holiday of Jingle Bells, Ho, Ho, Ho, and Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer are a sign of progress.

We don’t need religion to teach us the fundamental philosophy of doing unto others as you would have them do unto you. A fat guy in a red and white suit riding the magic of imagination accomplishes the same thing in a much more effective way.

Now that’s not to say religion, for many, doesn’t have its place. The story of the wise men following the star is so ingrained in my psyche that every year, as Christmas approaches, I often think one star appears brighter than it does other times of the year.

This is not a harmful belief unless I forget it is based on something other than reality. Perhaps back then a supernova shone brightly, coinciding with the myth of the birth of Jesus. Perhaps the lapse of time between the writing of the story—decades after it allegedly happened—wrapped the truth with wishful fiction.

But it doesn’t alter the reality of what Christmas means to many outside of its religious origins.

If one wants to understand the spirit of Christmas, all you have to do is watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas. It covers the gambit of topics from the consumerism and the glitz—Snoopy’s winning the decorating contest—to Linus reciting the story of the Angels announcing the birth of Jesus to shepherds in the field to the whole group singing around the simple Christmas tree Charlie Brown embraced as only a child could.

There are a lot of things that might make “Old Jesus” puke in this world. Many of them are done in his name. But Christmas isn’t one of them.

JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services. Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into reality.

I’m Warning You…Charlie Brown!

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If there was any doubt that the world is headed into oblivion, this should erase it. If there was any doubt the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were on their way, or at least saddling up their horses for the ride to Armageddon, this should eliminate all doubt.

This was so troubling I couldn’t even bring myself to write about it when I saw it. I didn’t want to extinguish the few remaining embers of the Christmas spirit left in the world.

In a year that saw the rise of a Pandemic we knew how to control but refused to adhere to even a vestige of scientific rationality.

In a year that saw what many hoped was the last of a debacle begun in January 2017.

In a year where a significant number of Americans drank the Kool-Aid of a deranged delusion plunging us back into acting like Dark Age peasants quaking at the sight of an eclipse out of ignorance and maniacal fallacies.

We now must face the reality of just how much we have regressed into the anarchy of idiocy.

What, pray tell, drove me to this despair and hopelessness of our situation you ask?

It was this.

As I am wont to do each year, I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas. I have watched it every year since it first premiered all those years ago in the days of three channels, on a broadcast schedule that required you to plan and, at least for the first few years, in black & white.

This year technology, of which I am a big fan, forced me to download the video. As I sat down to watch it, looking forward to the music of Vince Guaraldi, Linus’s speech about the meaning of Christmas, Snoopy embracing the commercialism of the season, and all the other elements I’ve come to hold dear, I was shocked by something that appeared on the screen during the initial scene of snow falling.

A Warning on Charlie Brown’s Christmas

In the upper left-hand corner there appeared a warning. A viewer discretion warning telling me this show, this icon of 1960’s television, this sacred reminder of a simpler, less complicated world, contained VIOLENCE AND FOUL LANGUAGE.

I was stunned. I was shocked. I was astounded. VIOLENCE AND FOUL LANGUAGE in Charlie Brown’s Christmas and I needed to be warned.

All these years I never knew I was being pummeled by VIOLENCE AND FOUL LANGUAGE every time I watched Charlie Brown. For fifty-five years everything wrong I have ever done is likely because I never knew I was being exposed to VIOLENCE AND FOUL LANGUAGE in Charlie Brown’s Christmas.

It explains much.

I will now go wait outside for the Four Horsemen for surely the end is nigh upon us. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

************************************************************************

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The Circle of Christmas Memories

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As this, my 64th Christmas, approaches, the usual string of memories stir from within the synapses of my brain.

With the first few notes of The Little Drummer Boy, or the words “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire” from The Christmas Song, to the rousing music of Handel’s Messiah and the Hallelujah Chorus, I am transported back to so many moments.

The anticipation of watching Charlie Brown’s Christmas or Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer were more meaningful when they required planning. Once a year made them memorable, on demand makes them seem less so.

Vague, shadowy memories of my first few Christmas mornings to the fuller, if time-altered, memories of Christmases in Cumberland, Rhode Island where I’d share the latest in G.I. Joe accessories with my friends, to the all-too-rapidly passing moments of our daughter’s first Christmas, come weaving and dancing in my mind’s eye.

These moments, precious and joyful, all seem to pass so quickly. Every year, as December 25th approaches, even to this day, I want the moments to slow down, to linger, to hang in the air like the aroma of freshly made cookies, so I can savor each one.

But it seems each year passes faster than the one before.

And yet, there are things look forward to in the times ahead. Like the Spirit of Christmas Future, we’ve an opportunity to make new memories.

This will be a last Christmas for me in this stage of my life and next year will be my first Christmas at the beginning of a new stage, as a grandfather. I will have the opportunity to create those lasting memories my grandson will someday hence think back over as he winds his way through his own life.

Here’s hoping they are as vibrant and meaningful for him as those I’ve held close to my heart all these years.

Free Christmas Gift Picture, Download Free Clip Art, Free Clip Art on Clipart Library
Blinking Christmas Lights Gif GIFs | Tenor

Stay tuned (a saying also imbedded in my memory although possibly confusing to some) here for a Christmas Surprise. On December 12th, I will publish this year’s special Christmas story in 12 parts.
Hidden within the words is a secret message. The first five people to figure it out and email me with the correct answer will win a copy of every book I publish in 2021.

To make sure you see the posting, subscribe to this blog by adding your email and clicking the subscribe button on this page and then share the blog with EVERYBODY.

Merry Christmas and may all your memories stay with you forever.

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JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.

Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.

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This Shall Not Stand!

/ / Leave a comment

There are some things one has to learn to tolerate. And there are some things one has to learn to accept. But there comes a time when a situation is so repulsive, so offensive, so demeaning to common decency it upsets the balance of the universe, then one has to draw a line in the sand and shout for the world to hear,

This Shall Not Stand!

I came across this news story the other day and it it inflamed my sense of moral outrage.

Charlie Brown holiday specials move to Apple TV+, ending long runs on CBS, ABC

HOW CAN THIS BE?  America is in the midst of the most divisive election in our history. We find ourselves at a point in time when the very fiber of America’s reason for being is undergoing the most challenging test in our history since the first shots were fired during the revolution.

If ever there was a time when we needed the simple joys of Schroeder playing the Charlie Brown theme song or Snoopy and all dancing in wild abandon or the simple, heartfelt story told by Linus of the tale of a birth in a manger that would change the world or a lovelorn Charlie Brown hoping for a Christmas Card from the love of his young life or the search for the true meaning of Christmas in a spindly sad little tree, it is now.

How can this be? How can the very basis of Christmas spirit-the spirit of giving to those we love and to the whole world—can be denied a new generation or to those who have loved these shows for decades? How can they take one of our most joyful memories and turn it into a commodity?

I stood silent when they stopped showing the Wizard of Oz once a year, but no more!

If you’ve no time to take a stand on anything, never raised your voices against injustice, or stood silent while they stole our most simple, yet valuable, pleasures, now is the time to rise up. Or you will lose something you can never regain.

NO CHARLIE BROWN, NO PEACE

NO CHARLIE BROWN, NO PEACE

NO CHARLIE BROWN, NO PEACE

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JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.

Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.

Signup here for our mailing list for information on all upcoming releases, book signings, and media appearances.

The Last Christmas Part VII: Defeating the Piney Army

/ Joe Broadmeadow / Leave a comment

“So, let me get this straight. You hate visiting the hospital but now you want to go right after school?” Joe’s mother said as they sat eating dinner. “Why the sudden change?”

“I just want to go see him.  I can’t wait until he comes home, I need to talk to him privately.”

Joe caught the look between his parents. Something wasn’t right and they weren’t telling him everything.

“Joe,” his father said, “there’s a good chance your grandfather may come home in a few days. He will be under hospice care. Do you know what that is?”

Joe shook his head.

“How about we go see grandpa tomorrow after school and we can all talk about it together.”

“Great, I can’t wait to tell him what happened—.” As the words came out, he knew he’d said too much.

“What do you mean happened?” Joe’s mother studied him. “Is there something we need to know?”

Joe glanced between his parents and knew what to say. “Well, Grandpa gave me some secret instructions to follow.  Chrissy and I brought the small box to the abandoned barn. When I read the words, the box turned into a disassembled sleigh that we have to put together before Christmas.

“Meanwhile, we used the deer feed to gather all eight reindeer into the barn so the elves could take care of them and get them ready for Christmas Eve.  Oh yeah, the barn looks abandoned on the outside, but inside it’s a magical place full of elves.

“When we left there the other day, after the engine test fire went crazy, an army of pine trees attacked us. Chrissy was able to save me from one of them. I need to see Grandpa so he can tell us how to defeat them and get back to the barn.”

Joe waited a moment to let it sink in. “Other than that, not much.”

Joe’s father sipped his water and his mother just stared at him.

“Where in the world does that imagination of yours come up with this stuff?” she said after a moment of silence. “You should write a book, Joe.”

“I will, Ma. After this adventure is over, I will.” Joe brought his dish to the sink then ran upstairs. He had lots of questions for his grandfather. Even if his parents thought he’d made it all up, the piney army was still out there and the voice, whatever was behind that, was another problem.

*****

Standing at the edge of his grandfather’s bed, he waited for his mother to leave.

“Are you sure about this, Dad?” his mother said.

“Go, Peggy. Let me explain things to Joe and it will be fine.” He waved his hand towards the door. “Now go get those nurses some coffee and pastry. They deserve it for putting up with me.”

“I am sure about that,” Joe’s Mom said, and headed out the door.

As the door closed, Joe’s grandfather motioned for him to come closer. “Sit on the edge of the bed, Joe. We have a few things to take care of.”

There was always one thing about his grandfather that Joe loved most. He always talked to Joe as if he were just like him.  He told him the truth—good, bad, or indifferent—no matter what.

This truth hurt the most, but he knew in his heart his grandfather wanted him to be ready and he was glad he thought him old enough to handle it.

“There are a few things I want you to remember, Joe. First, never be afraid to do the right thing no matter how others might try to talk you out of it. Second, the pine trees can only stop you if you’re afraid. Trees can’t think. They are controlled by Doubt. Doubt is a specter. Do you know what that is?”

Joe shook his head.

“A specter is a ghost. While it lives as a being, it can enter any creature. Doubt is the one thing that can cause you to fail. Never let doubt tell you what you cannot do.”

His grandfather pointed to the drawer next to the bed. “Open it up and hand me the small back case in there.”

Joe pulled the drawer open and pulled out the case, handing it to his Grandfather.

Opening the case, Joe’s Grandfather pulled out a medal on a gold chain. A Good Conduct medal he’d gotten when he was in the Marines.

“Take this, Joe. Keep it with you to remind you about the things I said. Everything you need to know, and do, is in your heart.”

Joe took the medal, turning it over in his hand, then placed it around his neck. “You’ll be coming home soon, won’t you grandpa? Then we can talk more.”

His grandfather smiled. “Like I explained, Joe. I’ll be coming home, but I won’t be with you long. This is the end of my time here, but it’s not the end of you and I being partners in this.

“Go back and build the sleigh. Don’t let a pine tree army or Doubt get in your way. There is a great adventure ahead. One that has lasted a thousand years. Soon, you’ll understand.”

The door opened and Joe’s mother returned. “Ready Joe?”

“Yup,” Joe said, jumping from the bed. He tucked the medal into his shirt.

One nurse came in. “Are you comfortable there, NM?”

“NM?” Joe’s mom said. “Who’s NM?”

“He is,” the nurse said, pointing at Joe’s grandfather. “Nicholas’s Magic. It’s what we all call him because he makes us smile all the time, no matter what. We’re gonna miss him when he leaves.” She went to his side, checking the various machines.

Joe’s mom kissed his grandfather. “By, Dad. We’ll be ready for you tomorrow.”

As they walked out, the light went on in Joe’s head. NM. NM like on the blanket. I wonder…

“Mom, can I use your phone for a minute?”

“Of course.”

Joe called Chrissy. Whispering into the phone, he said. “I just talked to my grandfather. I know how to get past the piney army. Meet me at the same place after school.” Joe turned his head so his mother couldn’t hear what he said next.

“Remember the initials NM on the blanket the elf put over me? I think NM is my grandpa.”

Part VIII Doubt Comes to Visit

P.S. If you’re interested in the previous one from Christmas Past here’s a link. Please share this and this new story with all your family and friends.

https://joebroadmeadowblog.com/2018/12/14/the-christmas-dragon-the-complete-untold-unchanged-and-absolutely-true-story-from-beginning-to-end/

The Last Christmas

/ Joe Broadmeadow / 2 Comments

In keeping with an old tradition, I bring you Part 1 of the serialized story of The Last Christmas.

Millions of years ago, when dinosaurs roamed the earth, the Pawtucket Times would publish a story over the two weeks leading up to Christmas.

I, along with many others, anxiously awaited the arrival of each new chapter culminating in the ending on Christmas Eve. So, over the past few years, I have started my own version beginning with today’s opening segment. We will read this story together as I have no idea where it will go or how it will end. My only advantage is I will read it as it is born, while you my dear friends will see it just moments after its arrival.

I will just tell the story, like Charlie Brown and Linus, of something worth holding onto. Let it take us where it will…Merry Christmas!

The Last Christmas (Part 1)

Joe followed his mother down the hallway, lagging, slowing his steps as he tried to avoid reaching the room.

The incessant beeping of the machines, the determined movements of the doctors and nurses, the sounds of laughter, and crying, all crowded his mind.

He hated this place.

“C’mon, Joe.” His mother, waiting for him, motioned with her hands. “We have to get in to see grandpa before visiting hours are over.”

Joe sped up a bit as his mother continued down the hall, then slowed once again. The dread of seeing his grandpa in the hospital bed frightened him.

“Joe!” his mother called, standing at the doorway to the room, “let’s go, c’mon.”

Joe stopped at the door and peered inside. Sitting up in his bed, wearing a Santa hat with flashing lights and jingling bells, his grandfather smiled at him. “Get in here, Joe. The batteries in this thing might die before I do.” He let out a laugh.

“Dad! Please…”

“What? They are old batteries. I’ve had this thing since before you were born. Got it for that first Christmas, just before you interrupted our Christmas Eve dinner by being born.”

Joe’s mom shook her head and plopped down on the edge of the bed. “So, how are you feeling?”

“Dying, I’m dying. But other than that, just fine.” He let out a laugh. “The poison they call food here doesn’t help.” He turned to Joe. “Did you bring it?”

Joe glanced at his mother, then reached into his pocket.

“Bring what?”

“Never you mind, Peggy. This is between Joe and me.  Why don’t you go see if the nurses have an updated betting pool on when I will check out? I’ve got ten bucks on Saturday.”

Joe’s mom rolled her eyes and watched the two of them. Joe turned his back to his mom, then handed the candy bar to his grandfather.

“Yes! That’s my boy. Nothing like a Mounds bar or an Almond Joy.” With a twinkle in his eye, Joe’s Grandfather ripped off the wrapping and admired the two chocolate bars.

“Dad, you know you’re not supposed to eat junk. Give me that.” Joe’s mom tried to grab the candy.

“I,ffdo’t fink so,” the old man said, shoving a piece in his mouth, handing the other to Joe.

“He doesn’t need it either. He’s got a dentist appointment tomorrow.”

Joe’s grandfather winked. “No worries, we’ll wash it down with the hot chocolate you’re going to get us, and it will remove the evidence. Hot chocolate is magic.”

“Fine, I’ll go get the hot chocolate.” She stood up from the bed. “Please do nothing crazy while I’m gone.”

“Have I ever?”

“A better question is when have you ever been normal?”

Joe’s Grandfather stuck his tongue out at his mother. She rolled her eyes once more and headed out. As she got to the door, the old man stuck his tongue out and waggled his hands, thumbs in his ears.

“I saw that,” Joe’s mom said, without turning around.

“Oops.”

Joe laughed. “She couldn’t see, Grandpa, she wasn’t looking.”

“Oh, she could see, Joe, she could see. There’s more to seeing than just looking. Sometimes you just have to believe.”

“Believe in what, Grandpa? Seeing is not believing it’s, well, it’s seeing.”

“Come here, Joe. I want to tell you a story for my last Christmas.”

Joe felt the tears in his eyes. He stood still, unable to move.

“Joe, there is nothing to be sad about. The last Christmas is just as important as the first Christmas. More so in fact. Come here, now, no tears. They ruin the taste of the candy.”

“But I don’t want this to be your last Christmas, Grandpa. I want to have a hundred more with you.” He hugged the old man, resting his head on his chest.

Joe’s Grandfather laughed, the lighted hat jingling on his head. “And so you will, Joe, so you will. All you have to do is believe…”

Part II A Christmas Secret

P.S. If you’re interested in the previous one from Christmas Past here’s a link. Please share this and this new story with all your family and friends.

https://joebroadmeadowblog.com/2018/12/14/the-christmas-dragon-the-complete-untold-unchanged-and-absolutely-true-story-from-beginning-to-end/