December 23 – “Mystery guests”

We apparently had some more of those strange, elusive visitors in the house yesterday.  The kind that you know must be there, but you never actually see them.  The kind that make life, well … interesting.

I was hard at work at my desk preparing for two teachings and two weddings.  The Christmas Eve service loomed over my preparation time, as did my usual preparation for next Sunday’s teaching.  I have a destination wedding on Saturday over at the San Luis Hotel.  Simple affair.  A couple of old timers … my age.  They do want to meet me ahead of time, though, so I’m going over there for a few minutes on Friday to touch base.  Then I just added a second wedding for Monday morning.  Also simple.  This one will be a young man whose grandfather was one of my first real friends and supporters at Seaside.  Cailyn was over here as well.  She is out of school for a few weeks, but not so for Mom.  For some reason they are keeping the operating room staffed and busy for the next few days.  Glad to hear that, actually.  Just in case, you know.  Her Daddy was off duty, but he had some business to take care of.  Seems he had negotiated with Santa Claus for the temporary assistance of a few of his elves to help set up an extra special surprise present for Cailyn.  Can’t say any more about that, other than I wish I could have seen the elves.  I understand they were some of the biggest, strangest looking creatures in Santa’s entire brigade.

So … moving on to the mysterious visitors.  From my location, safely perched at my desk and trying desperately to focus on the task at hand, I began to hear the voices, eerily similar, yet … could I be really sure?  I recognized Cailyn and on occasion Chris.  There was the new stuffed reindeer friend named Elsa.  Elsa Sevela Vaughan, as I was summarily informed when I suggested she add Fred as a middle name.  So those were solid.  I could continue working with that in the background.  It was the others that began to give me creeps. 

Suddenly there was a Carleese (or however you would spell it).  Never heard that one before.  After a few minutes of pondering I decided that must be an imaginary friend … of the reindeer.  Strange, right?  Now I’m all for imaginary friends.  I have housed several over the years, the most significant, of course being “Boy,” who played often with Kel, disappeared for four or five years, and then miraculously showed back up, none the worse for wear, to spend time with Josh.  And we had never mentioned his prior appearances to Josh, either.  Gotta wonder …  So now there were four.  But then came the distinct call for Abby to “pay attention.”  Wait.  Abby is the name of Cailyn’s boxer, and I knew she wasn’t part of the babysitting deal.  We had another imaginary friend.  Didn’t sound like Abby was playing well with her fellow students, either.  See, another character rose up, calling herself “Teacher.”  And Teacher didn’t take any misbehavior lightly.  I guess it got so bad that Teacher had to call home, because even though the voice I heard sounded like Chris, the obvious personage was someone called “Mom.”  And that’s where it got really confusing.  The narrator (who sounded a lot like Cailyn) for some reason stopped all the action every so often to explain what was going on, and who was who.  That was quite helpful.  Except that sometimes she identified herself as Cailyn.  Sometimes she was Mom.  Sometimes she was Teacher.  And somewhere in there was an elusive “Sarah.”  Guess she must have been the quiet one of the class, because she never said much. 

Now that you have all the players straight (OK.  I don’t have them straight, either, but work with me here), there was an elaborate scenario that was being created.  Sadly I couldn’t hear all of it.  Something about a reindeer school and a trial run flight and helping Santa deliver toys.  Beyond that I missed the details.  But … I think I feel a story coming on.  Let me get back to you on that one.  It might take me a while, but I’ll try to post it when I’m done. 

Merry Christmas, Cailyn and Chris and Abby and Sarah and Elsa and Carleese and Teacher and Mom and Fred … oh, wait.  Fred didn’t make the cut, did he?  Oh, well.  Merry Christmas anyway, Fred.

Luke 2:15 -16 says, “When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, ‘Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord told us about.’

          So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseoh, and the baby, who was lying in the manger”

Father, thank you for imaginary friends and real ones, and for Nannies who don’t mind playing along.  Amen.

December 22 – “The alleged Sound of Music”

We watched the Sound of Music Live special on TV the other night.  We figured it would be only right, since we watched the Peter Pan one last week.  I’m always willing to give them a second chance, and unlike Peter Pan, the Sound of Music is, by its very nature, supposed to be a musical.  Not that I am a musical aficionado, by any means.  I’ll leave that distinction to friends like Travis Allen and others who can actually watch all things musical without regard for the acting.  I definitely fall more on the drama side.  But then, that’s my background.  Ah, high school acting days.  One act play competitions.  Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House (Yep.  That’s really the name of a play we did.  Must have had some theatrical significance that I never grasped).  I even had a bit part as a delivery boy in our musical, Mame.  Actually, I think my official designation was stage manager, but I was also the understudy for one of the male roles as well.  Almost had to go on, too, when the guy thought he had chicken pox or measles or some such dreaded childhood disease.  Honestly, the only reason I was involved at all was the major crush I had on the redhead who played Mame, but again … a story for another time.  My career-defining role, however, had to be my senior year performance as Tigger in The House at Pooh Corner.  Now that was dramatic artistry at its finest.  Loud.  Bouncy.  Goofy.  I have to confess, I heard more than once that there just might have been a bit of type-casting involved.  We even went on the road and performed for the local elementary schools.  But … I digress.  So.  A musical.  What could go wrong? 

Oh, my.  Now don’t get me wrong.  The lady, whoever she was, could really sing.  The kids did a great job.  Not so much the Dad.  And the evil, interloping fiancée just didn’t do it for me.  Neither did the sidekick who set up the singing competition or the bad guy German officer.  Wow.  Gripe, gripe, gripe.  Sorry about that.  The acting was just way below par.  And I must be getting pretty old, because time after time I found myself doing what I often warn others against.  I compared.  How could I not?  Julie Andrews MADE the Maria Von Trapp role.  She was more Maria Von Trapp than … Maria Von Trapp.  Of course she was also Mary Poppins, but that’s a story for another time. 

Um … OK, so maybe I am a sucker for musicals.  Good musicals.  With good acting.  Or maybe it’s just … almost Christmas.  That’s it.  Music is just a little more special at Christmas. 

Luke 2:13-14 says, “Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.’”

Father, thank you for the music.  Especially that angel-music you came up with to announce the new birthday.  Amen.

December 21 – “Are you done yet?”

Well, it’s four days to Christmas.  So we started our Christmas shopping yesterday.  Well, not completely true.  We did do some on Thursday as well.  And not completely finished, either.  At least I’m not.  I have two more victims, er, recipients of Dad gifts that I need to complete.  Those are the special, “just for you because you really are more than just the parents of my grandkids” gifts that I personally select (and provide an explanation for) each Christmas.  Why is an explanation needed?  Well, because the gifts are so well thought out and so carefully selected that a simple “here it is” just isn’t enough.  Each one has a specific reason behind its selection.  Some particular anecdote from the year that I don’t want them to ever forget.  Perhaps I’ll return to the subject after making the presentations so that illustrations may help you understand a little better.  Or perhaps I’ll forget I ever mentioned in the first place.  Sigh.  That’s one of the perks of getting old, I guess. 

So, where did we go shopping?  Ah, searching for clues, eh?  I know we have some snoops in this family.  Every one of our boys at one time or another has been captured on camera in mid-snoop, and even a few of the grandchildren have been following in their footsteps.  Kel used to be (or at least think he was) the master of all snoops when he was growing up.  He would search out closets and cracks and crevices snooping for Christmas presents.  He even enlisted Nathan a time or two to “go where no Kel has gone before” in a desperate attempt to locate even the tiniest shred of evidence that some Christmas presents exist before Santa arrives.  He claims he was successful regularly.  We allow the claim.  We want our son to have a healthy self-esteem. 

In the spirit of the search, though, we spent most of the time at … Target.  Thought I was gonna say WalMart, didn’t you?  We thought Target would be a little less crowded and little less crazy.  I think we were correct in our hopes.  There was a fair crowd there, but everyone seemed … I don’t know … calm.  Guess five days before Christmas feels a lot less stressful that Christmas Eve.  That’s when I want to go ... to WalMart.  Not to buy anything, mind you.  I just want to watch all the people scurrying about after last-minute gifts in varying degrees of panic (“Oh, no, I forgot to get something for Uncle Goosebucket”) or artificial bravado (“Ha.  I waited until Christmas Eve on purpose.  It’s a challenge to me.  Proves I am a real man”).  Granted, some of them may indeed be accomplished shoppers or guys who just haven’t had the time, but I suspect most of them are guys who have no idea how to shop anyway.   Lots of fun.  See you Wednesday afternoon at WalMart?  Or maybe after the Christmas Eve services we can meet up and sit on the little bench at the front door …

Titus 2:13-14 says, “…we wait for the blessed hope — the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good.”

 
Father, watch over the frazzled and weary shoppers these next few days.  Give them some success in their endeavors so they can expend their energy where it matters … with their families.  Amen.

December 20 – “Find the Ugly”

We went to our final Christmas party of the year (before the real thing in just five days).  It was an ugly Christmas sweater/trivia party at the home of one the fire fighters.  I baptized his son one Easter Sunday morning as well, so we have several points of connection.  As far as the theme goes, we thought we might have a problem.  The only sweaters we had that might possibly fall into the category of truly ugly all drowned in the Hurricane Ike flood.  And on top of that, I was worried that it would be way too hot for a sweater of any kind.  This is, after all, a tropical island paradise, right?  Well on that count the Lord took care of things.  A front blew in yesterday afternoon and the temperature dropped dramatically.  By the time we left for the party it had plummeted to a frigid 58 degrees, almost unbearable by Galveston standards.  The sweaters would work just fine … if we could find any.

I had an idea for creating an array of ugly on one of my existing red sweaters.  Chris was a different matter, though.  All of her clothes are beautiful, of course, and she isn’t one to go readily for “creative approaches.”  But then, as I was rummaging through the hall closet for I don’t remember what, I saw it.  The perfect sweater for Chris.  It was one of my Mom’s old ones.  Really old ones.  In true Oralee fashion, it was bright and colorful, with just a touch of wacky.  Mom could rock those elements in a way not many could.  That sweater had something embroidered on it (or whatever that word is) for each of the twelve days of Christmas.  And not your little two inches of suggestion either.  Each of these was three or four inches tall, and played out the song perfectly.  Yep.  That was my Mom.  And the sweater was great for Chris as well.  It wasn’t so much ugly as it was … bold.  And as it turned out, Chris almost won the ugly sweater contest anyway.  The hostess proclaimed, “I was going to give it to you just for the sheer vintageness of it all.”  I must say, though, the guy who actually won deserved it.  His sweater was a mass of Christmas homage from Mexico and America and who knows where else. 

Ugly Christmas Sweater.  Now my sweater was a little … different.  It started as a simple red sweater, thus fulfilling that part of the requirement.  I still had to figure out a way to touch on the Christmas part and ultimately the ugly part.  And I had an idea.  I know.  Dangerous, right?  Here’s what I did.  I printed off tiny little pictures of all the fire fighters I had photos of, and cut them out.  Then I arranged and pasted them onto a piece of red paper in the shape of a fire hydrant.  Then I took all of that and pasted it onto a piece of green paper.  Finally I cut out the words “Ho,” “Ho,” and “Ho” from red paper and glued them around the photo-hydrant (there’s the Christmas part of the challenge), then safety-pinned the whole thing onto my sweater.  The ultimate challenge was met.  I’m certain that somewhere in that vast array of pictures was someone who could be construed as “ugly.”  How can I be so sure?  Because I included a picture of myself.  I’ll have to take a picture of it and post it on FaceBook as a brand new game called “Find the Ugly.”  Kind of like “Where’s Waldo?” 

The trivia part of the party was in jeopardy when we arrived.  Our incredible hostess Katy had not had time to get anything copied.  Strangely enough, I still had quite a few copies of our own trivia challenge from our party the night before, so I raced home (actually I drove carefully through the misting rain) and retrieved all the copies I could find.  Now we do our trivia as an icebreaker, just for fun as people arrive.  This group was a bit more cutthroat.  Katy was offering a prize.  And that proved to be a problem.  I brought no less than six different categories of trivia so Katy could choose her favorite.  Somehow, though, all of them made their way into the crowd.  We had pictures and movie quotes and carol initials and general trivia and Christmas food quizzes floating everywhere.  And Katy then told me that I had to be the judge, since I was the only one with the answers.  And the race was on.  The people actually seemed to enjoy it, although the food challenge was dismissed readily (except by two daring souls.  More on them later).  Katy announced that the official contest would be Christmas Movie Quotes.  Whew.  That made my job a little easier.  But I have to say, it was the photos, or rather the Christmas rebus page, that drew the most interest, and the most ire.  They did fine on the obvious ones, like Jingle Bells and Silent Night.  And Andy stepped up as a master visual interpreter to assist the eventual category winner with numerous correct answers (Sorry, I can’t remember her name).  Of course it took a mole in the works to finally get the most vexing one of the night.  Nathan (who has experienced the Vaughan Trivia Madness for 15 years or so) finally broke under pressure and revealed the clue that unlocked the revelation for “Wokking in a Winter Wonderland.”  Nicole and Shorty were recognized for their accomplishment in Sheer Volume of Work - coming up with answers for three pages of trivia.  Not all right answers, but some answers, nonetheless.  Now the actual winner of the announced event, the Christmas movie quotes quiz, went to none other than April, and she didn’t even get any help from her husband.  Finally, the Most Creative Approach to Quiz Taking Award had two entries.  Remember the two I said attempted the food quiz?  Patrick is working right now to get accepted into UTMB, so I should have expected some of his answers.  Like the very first one: “According to tradition, what food should you eat every day during the twelve days of Christmas?”  Patrick’s answer?  NaHCO3.  The chemical formula for sodium bicarbonate … an antacid.  A good answer, Patrick, but not the correct one.  As good as his answers were, though, the winner of this category was the youngster, Andy and Katy’s son Aidan.  He meticulously printed an answer to each of the 25 or so questions.  The same answer.  And then he explained his answer on the side.  His multi-used answer to every food related question?  “Jesus.”  And his explanation?  “Jesus is the answer to everything.”  Now that’s a kid who has a handle on the important things in life.  Great answer, Aidan.

2 Corinthians 9:8 says, “And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.”

Father, help me remember that you are the answer for everything.  Saves a lot of worrying.  Amen.

December 19 – “Giving and … receiving?”

One more of our big Christmas events is in the books.  We hosted our annual church-wide Christmas party and white elephant gift exchange.  And it was quite the affair, I might add.  We had 32 folks in attendance (or at least that many who threw their hat into the ring (or their gift under the tree) for the gift exchange. Lots of food graced the table as well, always a plus.  Chris made tea and coffee and punch and we had hot water for hot chocolate or cider. 

Of course I put together some unstoppable trivia quizzes.  Categories this year?  Christmas song initials, What Carol is this? (Given an obscure line of a carol, tell the title.  This one proved very difficult), Christmas Foods (way too difficult for the crowd this year), Quotes from Christmas Movies, and Christmas Potpourri.  Lots of laughter and working together on all of them (not to mention the presence of the serious food) helped everyone relax and enjoy the games.  When the time was right (read here: When Chris said let’s get started), I read through the trivia answers (mystifying and amazing with answers unexpected and, well, trivial).  Then I read the Christmas story and prayed. 

The gift exchange rules were pretty basic.  Open a gift from under the tree or “choose to receive from someone else the wonderful gift of an already opened present.”  When a gift has been in different possession three times it remains there unto eternity (or until next year’s white elephant party).  And whoever has number one gets to close out the game by keeping his gift or doing one final gesture of good will and trading it with anyone whose gift has not yet been frozen.  Great fun?  Why sure.

The gifts themselves were wide and varied.  Betty received a gorgeous glass polar bear (actually the closest thing to a real white elephant we had this year).  I remember seeing not one but two Disney princess snow globe music boxes.  I couldn’t tell you which princesses they were (have to ask Cailyn), but one was blue and one was pink (the globes, not the princesses).  A garbage bag that looked like it was full of, well garbage, proved to contain an entire apartment full of random stuff, including some beanie babies and a wooden angel.  There were a few of those Christmas cocoa and coffee mug combinations as well as a free spirit coffee mug with Christmas lights imprinted on it.  A huge jar of animal crackers was popular, and its twin, filled with chees puff balls quickly disappeared into a “place of safe-keeping” behind Andrew.  And before he got got home, there might have been three or four of the cheese balls left.  On the “ooh, aah” side of things, someone went away with a Blue tooth amplifier, and someone else found a machine that I think creates blue ray discs from DVD’s.  Giraffe skin stationery, a giant candy cane filled with candy, a Starbucks gift box, some wonderfully Christmasy themed paper plates and napkins, and a box full of … gift bags all made its way home with appreciative new owners.  And if you don’t count Jennifer’s three attempts to take baby Cedric away from his Mommy, then a large framed painting of Elsa was the only gift that ended up being frozen.  Get it?  “Frozen.”

Two of my favorites were the Flippin’ Chickens (robbery beasts with a hole in the head for your finger.  Then you pull the tail back and let ‘er fly) and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle gooey smash ball.  Super TMNT fan Brennan ended up with that one, and gooey it was.  I think I want one.

The award for most entertaining gift recipients of the evening went to Cailyn and Houston.  Cailyn was visibly disappointed when she first opened a picture frame.  She received new life when someone thanked her for opening their gift and took it out of her hands.  Next she discovered a quite large ladies night shirt, imprinted with the togs of none other than Saint Nick, himself.  Again, not so happy.  But after yet another redeemer of gifts, her third attempt resulted in a very nice women’s makeup kit (actually I have no idea what the stuff inside was, but the bag looked really nice.  She took that one home.  Whew.

Houston was no less entertaining from the male standpoint.  He first opened a wire letter rack that you can hang on the wall (why do I know so much about it?  Because Chris became his gracious present reliever.  Now we have a wonderful wire letter rack.  Look for it next year).  With his precious wire rack graciously (and rapidly) presented to another, Houston was free to gather up his next prize, a package of women’s soaps.  Not so wonderful a sight to his young, almost-a-teenager eyes.  Again his face fell in disappointment.  And again he met one who relieved him of his burden.  And his time his excavations revealed a nice set of men’s colognes.  He wasn’t quite sure how to feel about this one, that is, until I reminded him, “With the soap you had to take a bath.  With this you can smell good and never have to bathe.”  Not sure his mother agreed with my assessment, but I did detect a rather strong cologne-ish odor before they left the house.  Houston’s good for tomorrow, Wyrick family.  More shower time for everyone.

Leaving the best for last, there was one gift, the absolute dream gift of the decade.  It came in a simple square-ish picture frame, but the image within was - how can I say it? – priceless.  Right there, in my very living room, was a framed picture of none other than the world famous, internationally acclaimed masterpiece … “Lora Dressed as a Hot Dog.”  Compelling.  It was the one I certainly would have selected to grace our wall somewhere in the house.  But alas, as it happened, I had a host-ly obligation to end the game, for it was a school night, and time for all good young padawans to curl up in their Christmas blankets and go to sleep.  One more school day until Christmas vacation.

Romans 6:23 says, “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in  Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Father, thank you for your most special gift to us: The baby who would grow up to become the Savior.  Amen.

December 18 – “Mission Accomplished”

It’s a very early morning this morning.  Like 4:30 or 5:00 early.  I had to get up extra early to perform a sunrise wedding.  I guess my body was making sure I wouldn’t be late, too, because the only really good sleep I had last night came between the hours of 2 and 4.  Nothing specific, just restless.  I finally gave up about a quarter to five and got out of bed. 

Sunrise weddings are some of the most beautiful here on the Island.  And in this particular case I was asked to officiate as the fire department chaplain.  That meant I also had to dress up in my class A uniform … tie and all.  Takes me a while to remember where everything goes whenever a tie is involved, even if it is a clip-on.  And then I decided not to wear the hat.  Just didn’t make sense, since I would have to take it off every time we prayed.  As it turned out, the groom didn’t wear his hat either, so we were all good.  The bride decided to use the San Luis hotel gazebo for the ceremony instead of going all the way down to the sand.  The bride and groom did go take some photos after the ceremony so that the photographer could take advantage of the rising sun.  Should be some beautiful ones, so I’ll say it now … Nice job, Photographer.  Mission Accomplished.

Everyone gathered inside the hotel for a few pre-ceremony pictures.  If you haven’t been by the San Luis Hotel to see their decorations, it is worth the trip.  Animated reindeer and tinsel and garland and decorated Christmas trees everywhere.  With such a backdrop they just couldn’t pass up the opportunity for some family photos in front of the tree.  I’d like to see those photos.  See, hanging on the tree right behind the bride and groom was a strange-looking, elf-like creature.  His placement made it look like he was photobombing the photo op right over the groom’s shoulder.  When the time came to begin, it was the bride who took charge.  As the groom and I walked outside we heard her commanding voice, instructing the crown to get out on the gazebo and wait there for her to enter.  I have heard that tone of voice before in similar situations.  It was clearly reminiscent of one unmistakable eloquence.  Coming from the mouth of the beautiful bride was the voice of … a wedding coordinator.  And it got everyone’s attention.  Within seconds the gazebo was receiving family members and the bride was grasping the arms of her Dad and Grandad.  Nice job, Bride.  Mission Accomplished. 

Now in any wedding, no matter how well prepared you are, there are bound to be some snafus, or at the very least some unique “memories” made. No exception here.  The bride was walking from the hotel interior out to the gazebo, escorted by her grandfather on one side and her dad on the other.  The Granddad walked with a cane, and I found out later that the Dad had just injured his knee falling from a tree.  Their path was simple, just a few steps on the concrete, then a transition to the grass for a few more steps, before joining everyone in the gazebo.  The thing is, her dress was a really beautiful gown with about a two-foot train on the end.  Simple but elegant.  As they reached the grass, Granddad stopped.  Those of us in the gazebo assumed at first that he might be anticipating some difficulty with walking on the soft, dew-covered surface.  But that wasn’t it.  Now, again, everyone was already in the gazebo except for the three of them, so we couldn’t hear what was going on.  But from our perspective, as GrandDad slowed to a stop, he reached over and … did he just goose the bride?  Sure appeared so from our angle.  Snickers abounded from the gazebo crowd when the bride jumped in response.  However, what was actually happening?  Good old GrandDad was simply trying to help the bride get her dress off the wet grass.  She realized it quickly, and was able to gather up the train enough to satisfy GrandDad.  Mission accomplished, GrandDad.  We gotta take care of the youngsters, don’t we?

Dad was very nervous before the ceremony, especially when we were explaining to him about his role of presenting the bride, and his task of answering the “Who presents this woman” question.  To calm him down a bit, I told him the story of how Christi’s Dad turned and addressed the crowd before her and Josh’s wedding.  I ended with this word of encouragement, “You don’t have to do that.”  He laughed and was greatly relieved.  In fact when that “Who presents this woman” portion of the service came up, he performed admirably, saying with confidence, “I do that … without a speech.”  Nice job, Dad.  Mission Accomplished.

We made it through the ceremony with no problems at all.  Vows have been made.  Rings have been exchanged.  Pictures have been … well, at least they have begun.  The fearless fireman and his beaming bride have been joined together under God as one.  Nice job, you two.  Mission Accomplished.

Matthew 19:4-6 says, “’Haven't you read,’ he replied, ‘that at the beginning the Creator 'made them male and female,' and said, 'For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh’?  So they are no longer two, but one. Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate.”

Father God, that’s Mission Accomplished for this young couple.  Walk with them as they stand together to face the life before them.  Draw them closer to you.  That’s the only way they can really get to know each other better.  Maybe it would be better to say – rather than “Mission Accomplished”- Mission Begun.  In Jesus’ name.  Amen.

December 17 – “Keep it in the can”

Thumbing through our vast array of DVD’s, Caleb’s Mom came across one that I found a long time ago, probably at a Cracker Barrel store.  They are the only ones I know of that sell this kind of stuff anymore.  It was a collection of 100 of the “best cartoons ever made.”  Well, at least someone’s idea of the top 100 “Classic Cartoons.”  In this case I’m afraid “classic” may just have been a code word for “old.”  I’m not at all sure exactly how old, either.  It included such greats as: Betty Boop (that would be the World War II “hot babe” I think), Baby Huey (Isn’t that the massive baby duck?), Heckle and Jeckle (the crow-like bird pals), Hunky and Spunky (I still have no idea who they are.  I have yet to see their one obviously overwhelming favorite contribution: “You can’t Shoe a Horsefly”), Mighty Mouse (Everybody knows Mighty Mouse, right?), Raggedy Ann (Which came first, the cartoon or the doll?  Obviously the doll should have stayed away from the big screen), and Woody Woodpecker (My personal childhood favorite, a sarcastic, more than a little bit crazy bird that beats his head against a tree on purpose … what’s not to love?).  Plus, there are cameo appearances by a host of other strange animated heroes that I certainly have never heard of.  Some, I must say, are to this day calling your name, demanding that you rush right over to Cracker Barrel land get your own copy (or just borrow the one I have.  It’s available unless Caleb is around).  I admit I haven’t seen them all, but how about these great titles (Truly something for everyone in the family): Boy Meets Dog (A love story?), A Car-Tune Portrait (For the family mechanic), The Fresh Vegetable Mystery (Health food fanatics?), Les Escargots (Foreign language film aficionados?), Professor YaYa’s Memoirs (for the senior adult in the mix), Sultan Pepper (get it? salt and pepper? Teehee).  And then there is always Along Came a Duck (That one I want to see now.  What thrills, what chills, what sheer excitement must lie in wait behind such a captivating title). 

But back to Caleb.  The majority of the cartoons, beating out Betty Boop 31-22, are headlined by one particular character.  None other than that beloved icon of human history, the original spokesman for vile, slimy green globs of matter that come in a can, the one-eyed wonder … Popeye the Sailor Man.  Now, Caleb had never before seen such a character in his young life, and he was utterly fascinated.  This was an entirely new mythology he could wrap his head around.  Much simpler than the intricate workings of the Jedi brotherhood.  Not so many characters to keep up with.  Popeye, of course.  Bluto the evil curmudgeon co-sailor and rival for the romantic affections of the “lovely” model for modern-day modeling, Olive Oyl.  Wimpy the lovable hamburger-eating pal who never has any money to pay for his treats, but always promises to “pay you back on Tuesday.”  The baby who comes wrapped in a blanket that comes to a point at the feet (always seemed strange to me).  And was it Popeye who hosted the little alien guy and the dog that disappeared?  Sorry, sometimes my grasp of animated worlds is less than accurate. 

When all the other cousins disappeared into the nether world of outdoor play or eating some Blue Bell, Caleb remained, loyal as ever to his new-found friend with the can of strange substance that imbued him with unspeakable powers.  I carefully timed my entrance into his world so that it occurred between episodes.  I wanted to ask but one question, the question that would reveal whether the show was still having its desired marketing effect even after all these years.  I stepped between him and the TV to get his full attention and asked, “So, Caleb … are you going to start eating spinach like Popeye now?”  I know canners of spinach across the globe were waiting for his answer on the edges of their seats.  Slowly he stretched his couch-cramped muscles, turning his eyes over toward me and his nose up in utter disgust.  Somehow I knew the direction his answer would take.  Finally it came, “My mom doesn’t even cook spinach.”  Ah-hah.  There it is folks.  The answer that is no doubt timeless as to why more youngsters don’t eat their spinach … wait for it … Mom doesn’t like it either.  And if Mom doesn’t like it, you just ain’t gonna see it.  Thanks, Moms everywhere, from decades of Popeye-loving children who want to root for their hero, but would just as soon leave the spinach-eating to him.  “I’m strong to the vintage, ‘cause I eats me spinach …”  Nope.  More like, “Keep it in the can, Sailor Man.”

Daniel 1:15-16 says, “At the end of the ten days they looked healthier and better nourished than any of the young men who ate the royal food.  So the guard took away their choice food and the wine they were to drink and gave them vegetables instead.”

Father, thank you for all the incredible foods you have provided us.  Oh, and it took me awhile, but that spinach of yours is not so bad after all.  Amen.