December weather here in the foothills of the Pocono Mountains is usually quiet, gray and dreary. But Santa swashbuckles in here with a big red suit, green, gold and silver wrapped presents, and happy music made by symphony orchestras with choirs, rock bands, and even chipmunks. And there’s no ducking away from him to go suck your thumb and put the back of your hand to your head, and cry in your beer…because “He sees you when you’re sleeping…he knows when you’re awake….” no matter where you are, he’s going to pop up, and lay a ho ho ho on you if you give him a chance. I know things are tough this year, but no matter how tough things may be…the price is right…so you may as well give him a shot.

Santa is lots of things to lots of people. But he pretty often gets a bum rap. He gets the blame for all the tasteless, crass, loud tv commercials for “The Biggest Sale Of The Year.” He also has to take the fall for “Taking Christ out of Christmas.” I think he deserves better. I think it’s time to thank Santa, because that stuff is not his fault.

Santa is a connector. Every year…no matter how old you are…he connects you to who you were when you got your first electric trains… a sled…or a bike under the tree…or your first Christmas kiss. And most important, he’s the connection to that distinct Christmas Eve “tuck you – in – so – Santa – can – come – with – his – reindeer – and – presents” feeling that your parents gave you. It was so safe…and happy…and real. And Santa helps you pass all that along to your kids…every Silent Night.

Of course, “He knows when you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake.” Not a bad reminder for us “Louie-Louie Generation” folks. Sometimes we slip. We tell terrible Christmas puns like, “As Adam said the day before Christmas, “It’s Christmas, Eve.” I know. That’s awful.

There’s also the one about how the custom of putting an angel at the top of the tree started. It seems one Christmas Eve, Santa was really harried. Mrs. Claus had burned the Fruit Cakes, the Elves were upset at their HMO providers, and one of Santa’s sleigh runners was broken. Just then, the angel he’d sent to bring home a Christmas tree walked in with the tree and said, “Where would you like me to put this tree, Santa ?” And so, the tradition of the angel at the top of the tree the twas born.

Groans are ok…BUT NO POUTING ! Remember…“You better not pout, you better not cry…”yeah…we do too much whining and not enough smiling the rest of the year. Christmas is a very good time to turn that around.

One way to do that is something I put in the current podcast. I call it, “Pick a person.” Check out the podcast please. Because Pick a person is a guaranteed simple way to put your pouts away. Please check it out in the current podcast.

I’ve asked you to send your favorite Christmas story to , or just add it to the Comments section at the end of the blog.

SO…….THIS JUST IN…a comment from my friend Paul Berge:

“You have to “Grow Up” to “get it.” No wonder I still don’t “get it,” Dick. I refuse to grow up. I still want a BB gun at Christmas and even if I do shoot my eye out, at least I got the BB gun.

“You have to “Grow Up” to get it.”And real Lionel trains under the tree…

“You have to “Grow Up” to get it.”And screw WDM, I still have faith that we’ll eventually find Xray glasses that really work….

And realize that Bosco is far superior to CocoMarsh…

And the ‘59 Chevy was the best car ever…

And Sandy Becker would’ve made a better Pope than that German guy…

And Yoohoo in bottles…

And Three Musketeers bars for a nickel…

And nickels…

And singing harmony on a warm summer evening out on the stoop…

And nuthin’ to do…

And no guilt about doin’ it.

Merry All them holidays.


Paul Berge
Ahquabi House Publishing, LLC

 I guess you can tell that I like Santa. I’ve been one of his helpers for a lot of years. But there’s something I like even more about this time of the year. It’s hard to put it into words. It’s a feeling. Like that Silent Night feeling I was telling you about before. It happens like magic every year, when my Lady Wonder Wench and I go for our traditional Christmas flight in our little airplane.

 So I’m trusting Santa to bring us a clear, calm, moonlit, easy “flying night” in the next week or so.

 I think he will. Because it’s a feeling I don’t ever want to lose. And Santa is a connection to feelings like that. If all goes well, I’ll tell you about it next time.

 Merry Christmas/Hanukah/Solstice/Kwanza to all…and to all, a Good Night.

7 Responses to “NO POUTING !”

  1. Many Waters says:

    My daughter was born just before Christmas 1975. The hospital was all decorated, and one day a small group of nuns came through and sang carols. My daughter celebrated her first Christmas at the age of 6 days, so tiny and new. That was a feeling that only a new mother can describe. I think of holding that tiny, sweet baby every Christmas eve.

  2. Sheri says:

    not so much a Christmas story.. not many good ones in my past life, but an observation about this one.. (thought of it while listening to “Losers” last night…

    this year I’m not getting a new car for Christmas, will just have to make do with the 4yr old one… not getting diamonds from a lover… no lover…. not going to any holiday parties…. no job…. instead this Christmas, I’m going to get clumsy wrapped trinkets from the dollar store that I will cherish for the rest of my life because they are picked out lovingly by my 3 grand kids…. I’ll eat a wonderful home cooked meal surrounded by family that loves me enough that they don’t care I’m wearing jeans that are not the latest style. I will cuddle with my grand kids in my room, looking at the little tree in the corner that they helped me decorate with “ornaments” they made… and who cares that it doesn’t all “match” and that they aren’t placed perfectly. And when I lay down at night, I will keep that tree lit, and fall asleep thanking God that I have more blessings than I have troubles. You know.. thinking about it right now… I think I’m going to have the richest Christmas ever!

  3. Ms. Christmas says:

    Although I have no specific memories that stand out, I did want to say that my next door neighbors when I was growing up spent every Christmas with us. They had no children and were like grandparents to me. My Christmas mornings, as well as my life, were much enhanced by their presence and their love. I don’t think I expressed this to them near enough while they were alive, heck I probably didn’t even realize it myself. I think a lot of times it’s when we’re older looking back, and after the people are gone, that we truly begin to realize what they brought to our lives. So, Nina and Bunk, wherever you are, if you read Dick’s blog, Merry Christmas, I miss you……… and thanks.

  4. aliasJean Fox says:

    Oh yes – and as a PS to my story above, and Sheri’s comments — I do believe in Santa Claus.

  5. Cory says:


    Early in the relationship, back when we were both freshman college students, back in New Jersey, my First Love’s parents decided, for various reasons, to hate me. Virulently.

    I was a resident but she lived at home. So, for nearly two years, we saw each other behind their backs. Stole minutes and kisses when we could. Walked the campus between classes, telling each other that it would be different soon, someday. In retrospect it was not the best way we could have handled it, but for whatever reasons, it was what we did.

    Finally in the fall of 1976, we decided that we could not stand to spend another Holidays apart, so we confronted her parents. Came out of our personal closet. It was angry and difficult and frightening. There was shouting and tears, but that isn’t the Christmas story. We spent that Thanksgiving with my family, but that isn’t the Christmas story either, nor is the fact that before Spring arrived we were done forever.

    On Christmas Eve in 1976, I drove to her home in Bergen County. The atmosphere in the house was tense and unfriendly, so eventually we went for a long walk. It was cold. It wasn’t snowing but there was a bit of snow on the sidewalks and front yards, clinging to the bare trees. We walked the empty suburban streets of her neighborhood, holding hands, stopping to kiss, delighting in the sensation of merely being together, of feeling free and in love. I remember little else of that long ago night except for the way that the dim, widely-spaced streetlights cast our long shadows on ahead of us, elongated and distorted against the whiteness of the snow. I remember that the headlamps of passing cars made diamonds glint from the piles of plowed snow. I remember how the Christmas lights blinked on porches as we passed, and for just a while, I remember that we were so very happy.

    Happy Holidays to you and yours, Dick!

    Dave V.

  6. Merry Christmas 🙂
    My fav Christmas memory – The very first time I got to put a tree up for my children and I got to be Santas helper. There is nothing better in the world than to wrap gifts, bake and just soak in thier joy at this time of year, this is MY best gift from Santa. This is the time of year I can really and truly feel the love this world has to offer.

  7. Sheri says:

    I believe in Santa too! And Christmas miracles, and even though I know live in Florida, in my mind, it’s always a white Christmas!