Boxing Christmas

The code of fair play which rules most games is not apparent in the boxing racket.

Jimmy Cannon, sportswriter

My younger brother, Terry, and I each received a pair of maroon boxing gloves for Christmas.  Anxious to try them out, we built a makeshift boxing ring in the upstairs bedroom using twine wrapped around bedposts and chair backs to form a not so squared circle.  We invited our parents to be spectators to our main event.  Dad helped us lace up our gloves, and gave us the last minute instructions of a referee.  “Boys have a good clean fight.”  He said.  “Now shake hands and go to your corner.  When the bell sounds come out boxing.  And may the best man win.”

No problem, I said silently to myself, as I returned to my corner, “I’m the biggest and best, and I will whip his little ass.”  Mom and Dad sat side by side on the bed-bleachers, and Dad spoke the bell – “Bong!”  The fight for the championship of the Arnold family was on.

My brother charged out of his corner toward me with head down and arms flailing like a drowning swimmer.  I had little defense against his windmill barrage, and he quickly and repeatedly landed several stinging blows to my face and body.  His style was not what I had expected.  Like most younger brothers and sisters, he wasn’t playing by the rules -- that’s what I should have expected.  I mistakenly thought we would have a boxing match involving strategy and slow circling and quick jabs and clinches and breaks and occasionally a solidly landed counter punch, just like the real boxers described by Don Dunphy on the radio every Friday night.  Something was radically going wrong with my vision of humbling domination of this mutant little gnat with flapping wings and the sting of a bothersome bee.

However, none of his blows hurt more than when Mom and Dad began cheering for the “little shit”.  How could they root for him?  I’m the big brother here.  I’m the biggest.  I’m the best.  He’s not doing it right.  But who could I whine to about his unorthodox and unprofessional boxing tactics -- the partisan crowd?  The bell finally sounded and the fight was over.  I knew he would be declared the winner on younger brother browny points.  That night, in the upstairs bedroom surrounded by a ring of twine and with the hangover of defeat pounding in my head, I confirmed something about sibling rivalry that I had always suspected ever since my little brother entered the family -- They really did like him best.

Observation of the day!

I like to keep my bed room chilly. No heat even in the chilly weather we have been having her in Sunny Southern California.

One of my favorite things is to wake up, do my business and get a little chilly myself. Then jump back under my blankly, headed covered and feel the warmth and comfort it offers. Only thing that might make it better is someone to cuddle with.

Other stuff. Hot chocolate with whipped cream, pumpkin pie, pop corn, French onion soup, fires, Christmas Trees, the ocean, a sunset and good friends.

Warm Christmas cheers to everything and everybody that makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Now back to my blankly.

Little Sammy Carl.

Traditions Are An Important Part Of Christmas Spirit.

Well, we are one day closer to Christmas. Parties and dinners are in full swing. Shopping keeps sucking away at our pocket books. There is Christmas spirit in the air, although it's never like it was when we were kids.

Christmas is a time for family traditions. I suppose these traditions are still being built by this generation.

I recall most every Christmas of my youth, but somehow it isn't the same today, and that's how it should for us of the older generation.

My father owned a small grocery. On Christmas Eve the store would be busy with last minute grocery shoppers for their holiday dinners. Some of the regular customers hung around the stove talking Marion Giant basketball. Yes, we had a stove that burned lumps of coal. At about six the store would empty out, I would sweep the sidewalk and we would be off to Grandmas for Christmas Eve dinner. That tradition died when she did. That's all right we all have to move on.

The traditions we developed in our family were not for me, but what my kids remember from their childhood Christmases. At first I tried to go with my traditions of Christmas, but that never seemed to work. This was their time to plant the seeds of new family traditions in their minds. Today, it's what they remember from those in innocent years.

All that's gone now. I'm an old man living alone, but with lots supportive friends. It's not the same, but it's not supposed to be. We all move on, but maintain our memories.

I always remembered how the old generation progressed in their Christmas trees. They started with natural trees, some eventually move on to artificial trees, and the as old people were left by themselves they go to the little artificial tree that sets in the middle of the dining room table. I have moved to no tree, but that doesn't mean I don't have beautiful Christmas trees around me. The Hotel del has a wonderful tree in their lobby. The city of Coronado has a giant tree in Rotary Park. I go to many friends homes and it is always wonderful to feel the warmth of their homes at Christmas time.

It's Still a wonderful time of year. It's a marker in our lives..

Merry Christmas!

Sammy

Thanks

SAN-SFO-EUG, as Mark used to post on Facebook to let everyone know where he was off to. My trip is to meet up and spend Thanksgiving with my brothers, Terry and Jim in Oregon.

As we get older, it is so important to get together to give thanks for the lives that we have been given to these three boys from a smallish town in Indiana. We all are  continually in wonderment, as to how we had such good and successful lives and careers. We all acknowledge, it was our parents who gave us the sense of honesty and hard work. As with most of us, while it is happening we didn't always understand our parents, until we could reflect through the clear lenses of the life we lived. It was a simpler time, but the moral compass has not changed, only the direction of society.

Have a nice day. EUG-SFO-SAN on Saturday.

Sam

The Gifts That Keep On Giving!

It's that time of year again, deciding, selecting and buying Christmas gifts for family and friends? Or in my case for myself. I will always like my Christmas gift to myself. It will be just right. Santa always gets me the right gift for myself. But isn't Christmas time for giving? Yes, it is. And I will also give more than I receive, as it should be.

Real Christmas gifts often seem to get lost in the piles of wrappings and ribbons. Shopping has become a task with a hassle. I hate gift cards. They say a lot about the time and thought that went into the gift buying process. It's too easy. Requires no thought. You can rationalize that the person gets what he or she wants. That's true, but it also says I don't have time.

True giving requires thought. True giving requires paying attention. It also doesn't mean spending too much to impress, or answering every wish on Santa's wish list from your children. Why do babies play more with the packaging than the gift. Because it doesn't take much to make them happy. My friend, Carolina, told me once about her Christmas gifts as a very poor child in Mexico. Her gift might be simply an orange or a pair of socks. And she was thankful.

There is also a question I have ask myself many times, "What do you give a person who has most everything, and if they don't have it, they buy it." Never really found an answer to that.

What was the best Christmas gift you ever got? Mine was my first bike. I think I was about seven or eight. It was just what I wanted,the right make(Monarch) and the right color (maroon). The only thing that kind of upset me was the fact that my brother, who is three years younger, got his bike at the same time. Why did I have to wait three years longer than he did? I guess they really did like him best. I know this was my favorite gift as a kid, because I can remember every minute of that Christmas morning, and the feeling of pure surprise and joy I felt in my heart.

The best gifts are not necessarily the most expensive. They are gifts that say, "I paid attention to what you might like. It is often a gift the person didn't even know they wanted or needed.

The last gift from my son, Mark, was a gift in my name to the Hurricane Sandy Relief Fund in New Jersey, where he lived. That was special because I truly am blessed with an abundant life and this captures a Christmas spirit of giving. That's the type of person Mark was.

 However, it was the gift the year before that perhaps meant the most to me. It was something I can touch, feel and think of him every time I use it. It brings a smile and a memory of my Markie.

He text me asking for my address. He said he was sending me a gift that keeps on giving. I looked forward to receiving it in the mail, curious about this son with a great sense of humor would get his old dad. It was a Nose Hair Trimmer with an attachment for the eyebrows as well. At my age you grow hair everyplace except the place you need it. I had often thought about buying one. But my kid made laugh. It required thought and observation.that seemingly silly gift was just as important to me as that bicycle I got as a kid. I smile every time I use it, and I cry when I write about. It was truly a gift that keeps on giving.

Merry Christmas shopping. It is a task of thinking, not necessarily spending

Sammy Carl