“As I recall the events of Christmas past, I realize that possessions never bring as much happiness as moments do. Maybe Dad was trying to slow it down and take the time to appreciate the gifts. Christmas comes and goes all too quickly. It took him longer to open his few gifts than it did for all of us to open ours. He folded the paper and placed it neatly on the floor near his chair. He carefully sliced the cellophane tape in order to preserve the gift-wrapping paper. It’s sharp.’ The blades had been honed thin by years of sharpening. If someone asked to use my father’s jackknife, he handed it to the requestor with this admonition: ‘Be careful. “Dad reached into his pocket and removed a well-worn Barlow jackknife. “We all paused to watch my father as he didn’t open his gifts. “Dad picked up a gift and said something like ‘It’s so pretty, it’s a shame to open it.’ That was because most of them were boxes of chocolate-covered cherries. Most of them were the same size and shape. Soon, all the presents had been opened except my father’s. “We watched tots playing with boxes and realized that we needn’t have put any toys in the boxes. No rodeo cowboy ever had better times wrestling a gift. As the radio played Burl Ives singing unwrap music, the gifts were opened as if it were a timed event. It was time for the youngest to pass out the gifts. “After the meal had been devoured and the dishes were washed, we formed a circle of love. By the time I was finally able to take a bite, someone passed another plate heaped with grub. Plates of food went by at a furious rate. The kids ate at card tables with frail legs. “When lights began to grow on trees, we pushed tables together to make enough room to eat. The only thing I use my hanky for now is to dab my eyes when the wind makes them tear up.Īl B of Hartland: “Gift bags change hands more often than a dollar bill. I carry fast-food napkins in the car or in my coat pocket for blowing my nose. If I catch a cold…well, you get the picture. Now I carry my ChapSticks in my shirt pocket – not the best solution, but better than in my pants pocket. I’d take it out to use it and discover a mass of ChapStick crushed up in the cap. I must have been doing something that would slowly turn the little knurled thing on the bottom. As I moved around in my daily activities, a ChapStick in my right front pants pocket would creep out of the tube. “I used to carry a ChapStick in that pocket, but they somehow acquired a bad habit – or maybe I did. Pennies are accepted, but left at home at the start of the day. A guy never knows when he’s going to need a dime or nickel for some little thing – although those things that I used to be able to get for a dime or nickel now require quarters. I got out of the habit of carrying a pocket knife when I worked at airport security. I can whittle a little, but not with Dad’s dexterity. When Dad was riding to a job on the railroad, he’d take a stick of wood and whittle things like chains or a little ball-in-a-cage thing. My dad was a great whittler – and so was his dad. A guy never knows when he might want to whittle a little or pare his nails. “I used to carry a pocket knife all the time. I usually carry that in my jacket or coat pocket. That’s on a separate thing that has the remote door unlocker and such. heaven forbid that I get locked out of my own house. In my case, they’re all house keys, garage doors, entry doors, etc. I’ve carried some of the keys so long that the top part of the keys is worn smooth. I think I’ve actually used it as such only a couple of times. The seventh is a little key-sized screwdriver. I have a key ring with seven items, six of which are keys. We don’t typically carry any sort of dedicated junk bag, like a purse, so we have to make do with a stripped-down kit of only those things we actually need. Maybe to some it’s all junk, but to a guy, it’s all stuff that’s needed for daily activities. “A man’s pants pockets are carriers of essentials.
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