Long as we can remember (durn near), these words’ve shown up in Bulletin Board on Christmas Eve: “BULLETIN BOARD SAYS: Yes, dear Bulletin Boarders, it’s time once again for that ‘gen-u-wine original an’ perennial Cowboy King Christmas Classic’ — which we’ve been treatin’ ya t’ (’r inflictin’ on ya) ever’ Christmas Eve since way back in ’92 (’ceptin’ fer ’95). May it last a hundred years (an’ it’s a-gittin’ thar, ain’ it?)!”
Alas, our “poet lariat,” The Cowboy King (writing from his cabin in the Arden Mountains), has informed us that, the respect for property rights being too rara an avis on the Internet, he would not offer “The Night Before Christmas at M’ Home on the Range” to BBonward.com. Our rejoinder — that Bulletin Board has been published not just on newsprint but also online for many years, and that, so far as we knew, no one had wrongly appropriated his poem from either the Pioneer Press or TwinCities.com — was right on point but ultimately unpersuasive. Too bad.
We thank him for all of the years when he allowed us to run “The Night Before Christmas at M’ Home on the Range.” We never tired of it.
We hope that you will be suitably entertained, in The Cowboy King‘s absence, by yet another fine circus tale from Tim Torkildson: “My first Christmas away from home was spent in Venice, Florida, in rehearsal with the Ringling Brothers’ Blue Unit.
Continue reading “On the Christmas menu at the Golden Buddha: shrimp fried rice, sweet-and-sour pork, egg foo young … and three young clowns.”
‘Tis the season!
Lady Vol writes: “This Christmas memory is my father’s tale, although I’m certainly involved. It comes from a time when the world was much larger than it is now; there was no internet or instant communication. There was little knowledge about and even less understanding of cultural differences between nations and people.
Continue reading “On Christmas Eve in 1952, Santa Claus came to Thailand . . . and returned on Christmas Day!”
The Permanent Maternal Record
And: ‘Tis the season!
Bloomington Bird Lady writes: “My mom was a church organist for 37 years, and Christmas time was rather hectic. The music doesn’t just ‘happen’; it has to be planned, practiced and performed. We lived about two blocks from the church, and since we had only the one car, as did most other people, she’d walk over for everything. I can remember Mom taking off running at times to get there ahead of maybe the choir, or the pastor, etc.
Continue reading “Who was that Methodist woman in the Swedish Lutheran church, wearing the black robe?”
The Permanent Maternal Record
And: ‘Tis the season! (Ah, the Smell of It Division)
Dolly Dimples: “This is a tribute to my mom — and memories of Christmases past.
“Memories of Christmases past can be triggered by many things — by a beautiful snowfall like we had this weekend, which transformed our ordinary-looking neighborhood into a Wonderful Winter Wonderland, or seeing houses and yards decked out in festive lights, or hearing favorite Christmas carols on the radio. What transports me into the Christmas seasons of the past is the fragrance of Christmas cookies being baked.
Continue reading “What transports you to Christmases past? For Dolly Dimples, it’s “the fragrance of Christmas cookies being baked.””
Today’s helpful (?) hint
It comes from Nellie: “I have Velcro’d my old Brett Favre, 3-inch-high bobblehead (in yellow-and-green No. 4 uniform [Bulletin Board says: It won’t kill you if you say “Packers”!) to my dashboard, in line with the top of my steering wheel.
Continue reading “Could a 3-inch version of Brett Favre be the remedy for distracted driving?”