I Don't Believe We're On the Eve of Consumption

Santa by Dice Tsutsumi

Just returned from a failed excursion to buy Chanukah candles at the store. Sure, they have big fat XMAS Santa Coca-Cola Starbucks Vanilla Latte Scented Candle-tastics Coated with Reindeer Blood and Elven Bile in Blue-Ray TV Show Box-Sets, but no thin candlesticks by which to do my chemistry homework¹. Truly upsetting. I bought some AA batteries and carrots for the dogs instead. (The carrots are for the dogs, not the batteries. They, of course, are hybrid gasoline / hot dog vehicles. The dogs, not the batteries). You know, doing my part. For the economy. Fighting the 7:15 AM Fry's crowds. With piped tinny holiday tunes. And Merry Christmas goodbyes.

We heard a report on NPR yesterday about a man who gave out five dollar checks during the Great Depression to help familes out during the holidays. He had gone out of his way to keep his identity secret so as to not embarrass those accepting the gifts - many of them were fallen-on-hard-times bankers who probably knew the man. The man didn't want any credit for his actions; just wanted to do something nice for his fellow humans. Of course, we heard this from a guy who figured out that the mystery man was his grandfather and decided to out him on national radio. You know, defying his wishes. Thanks for that, grandson. NPR also informs us that $5 was a lot of money in those days. All this made me think was that 1, I wish I could time travel, and 2, MC Escher must have grown up in those same snow-covered magical times when both home and school were uphill from one another.

Beck is working today; only until 2. We have been pulling off our own Chanukah miracle lately with a disc of burrito filling that has lasted 8 nights. Tonight, I think we'll break the legumonotony and go out for dinner, saving tomorrow night for a big Christmas dinner. Some cold rainy times here in PHX - cold being a high of 55, which trust me, after having your blood thinned² by 120 degree summers, is quite cold. (Beck and I have been fighting off using the heat, but when we noticed that it was 58 in the house the other day - colder than the 62 we used to keep it in Natick! - we had to cave. I've taken to drinking tea and wearing a scarf inside; it feels like 2003 all over again). I managed to get out for a quick 2.5 mile run yesterday, trying to slowly get back into it. My other big plan for today is to continue reading Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude, which is thus far excellent.

Alright, maybe some links later. Maybe not. Hope everyone's having a good one - holla to the Texas and Rachacha crews!

¹ One heat-waved July night in Boston, in our post-bac-pre-med/vet days, right before a big chemsitry exam, the power went out due to excessive AC use around our neighborhood. We had to study, but no diners or coffee shops were open at that hour. We scoured the house for candles and all we could find was Beck's inherited silver menorah. Out of options, we studied limiting reagents by candlelight - a veritable festival of "ites." There are still blue wax drippings on our textbooks. I will forever associate Chanukah with sweating and ionic salts. Somehow I think the general scholarly attitude of the Jews will help the powers that be forgive us.

² What does this mean? Blood thinned? Do I smell a metaphor? And in smelling a metaphor, do I smell a metaphor? No, seriously, I have little doubt that this effect is real as I am now a huge pansy when it comes to slightly cool temperatures. But I'd like to know what tragedy has befallen my skinny blood.