16th & 17th December, 2004

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rod in “The Best is Yet to Come” 11/6/04
Photo by Shira Greenburg ©2004 by Broadway.com. Used by Permission

A Thought for Today

While dropping off an unwrapped children's toy at your local fire station this week, don't forget to take along some cookies, a box of fruit or a bag of popcorn for the brave men and women who risk their lives daily in this volatile season of Christmas Tree and short circuit fires. By the way, just to make their lives a little easier, have you placed your tree in a pan of water? Finally, for your own safety, don't forget to turn of the lights on the tree when you go to bed & while you're out shopping or partying.

 

A FLIGHT FROM6THE PAST

ANOTHER SIDE OF CHRISTMAS • 23 December 1998

Christmas is a time of celebration. Bright packages and ropes of pine, starched red bows and ribbons, eggnog and plum pudding, all promising we’ll be touched by something extraordinary.

But Christmas is a time of memory as much as celebration. For some it is memory of loss, intensified because, for all our lives, we’ve seen it as the season of promise. So much promised by friends and family, so little given in the rush. Christmas is and can be lonely. A loneliness that crowds us like no other as we turn inward, farther from reality than at any other season.

Just once we ought to set about preparing for the downhill run that nearly always accompanies the tinsel. The only way to do so is to get outside us and think about the infant in the manger long ago. Not just remembering His birthday, but remembering the trials and truth that marked His life and, down these many years, also mark ours. We are better because He was the best. Throughout His life He carried the passkeys to His father’s house, then threw them to us from the cross. Whatever went before, life only started when His life began.

God may have been the architect, but He sent Christ, His only son, to be the builder of bridges, people to people. He showed us in a thousand ways that none of us need fear again, that worry is worth nothing, loneliness is self - indulgence, and death is only a passport to everlasting life.

This year, as Christmas makes it’s round again, resolve to smile inside and out. Carry kindness to its farthest edge, compassion still beyond. In the process you may even come to know yourself and like what you find. Then, reaching just a little farther through the mists and myths, maybe even grasp the outstretched hand of God.

- adapted from "An Outstretched Hand", 1980, Revised 1998

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notable birthdays

Thursday 16 December

Benny Andersson o Jane Austen o Ludwig van Beethoven o David Ben-Gurion o Steven Bochco o Benjamin Bratt o Leonid Brezhnev o Tom Brookshier o Arthur C. Clarke o Sir Noel Coward o Ben Cross o Billy Gibbons o Michael Greer o Zolton Kodaly o Michael McCary o James McCracken o Margaret Mead o William
"Refrigerator" Perry
o Harlan Sanders o George Santayana o Lesley Stahl o Jon Tenney o Liv Ullmann

Friday 17 December

Marilyn Beck o Paul Cadmus o Erskine Caldwell o Eric Coker o Arthur Fiedler o Bob Guccione o Milla Jovovich o Eugene Levy o Richard Long o Julia Meade o Mike Mills o Novella Nelson o Sy Oliver o Katina Paxinou o Bill Pullman o William Safire o Tommy Steele o Nat Stuckey o John Greenleaf Whittier o Vanessa Zima

Rod's random thoughts Winter is a word we choose to remember only vaguely till it blows in all its wonder.

I wish you Christmas every time you close your eyes. I pray that you will run with deer and soar with eagles, touching ground only long enough to find that one who’ll love you every bit as much as I do and one you’ll feel the same about.

We gather strength through fidelity.

TOMORROW: The 1963 Christmas Card

I know that love is running in the snow.
I cannot see it but it's there.
As sure as caterpillars tunnel in the leaves
and winter weight bogs down the trees.

And so I search the highways and the hills.

                 There was a time
when bar talk and Bartok did the job
and I would hurry home -
     a stranger in my arms or in my thoughts
to be content with San Francisco rain.

You'd be surprised
the way the dripping rain from rooftops
can ease a man from out himself
                   and into sun.

We're all older now,
This past year we have lost Piaf's smile,
                 Kennedy's promises
and Cocteau's jokes on everyone
(he said the ship was going down - remember.)

The year turns home.

Maybe tomorrow.

-from "Twelve Years of Christmas," 1969

 
© 1969, 1998, 2004 by Stanyan Music Group & Rod McKuen. All Rights Reserved
Webmaster: Ken Blackie o Birthday research by Wade Alexander, coordinated by Melinda Smith
Poetry from the collection of Jay Hagan o Sound & Fury: Dr. Eric Yeager o Editor at Large: Bruce Bellingham
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