As for Me and Bupkis We Believe

Okay I have a confession. I don’t decorate for Christmas. I don’t put up a tree; I don’t hang lights, heck I don’t even hang mistletoe. First of all let me just say that I am not a Grinch. I in fact love the Festivus for the rest of us season. I love looking at Christmas lights and Chanukah or Hanukah howeverah youah spellah itah lights. I love the idea of the holidays and for what they are supposed to stand. What is that you ask?


My ideal of the Holiday Season has to do with love, peace and tolerance, which I guess if you have either of the first two then that third thing comes all on its own. I don’t believe it should be about presents and who decorates more or better than someone else. I gave up being materialistic for lent and I’m not even cataholic nor is it lent. I remember when I was a wee child going to our beloved Bathtist church that our youth director would not let his children have a Christmas tree. He said it was sacrilegious. He was not a bad man or a mean dad he just didn’t think his children should have a pagan symbol to worship and instead insisted on a nativity scene. This is how my story happened.

Little Gladys no longer believed in Santa Clause but she did believe in presents. She felt sorry for Brother Bupkis’ children. They had never believed in Santa, they were never given the opportunity to believe. Brother Bupkis told her this in her junior youth Sunday school class. He explained that he would not let his children believe in Santa because that was unchristian.

Now Little Gladys was perplexed by the fact that Santa could be considered unchristian. She thought he was the epitome of Christian. He was considerate, fair, giving and selfless. Think about it, he worked all year to spend one night flying all over the world giving things away to people he didn’t know. How much more Christian like could he be? She listened to Brother Bupkis spout his opinions as to why Santa was more Satan. Little Gladys began to fume. She began to boil. She began forming her rebuttal in her mind not listening to the rest of the narrow minded rubbish Brother Bupkis was pontificating. She had her argument all mapped out. She knew just what to say and how to say it. She was ready for any untoward come-back he might have for her arguments. Little Gladys was going to close this case just like Perry Mason. She would have Brother Bupkis confessing to killing Santa by the time she finished. The more she thought about it, Perry Mason might in fact be Santa. He was built like him. Heck even his real name reminded you of the season...Burr.

Little Gladys had made up her mind she was going to research how the legend of Kris Kringle came to be then she would find a way to tie it in with the birth of the baby Jesus. She found out that Saint Nicholas of Myra was an actual saint as in canonized by the Pope.

 She knew this would do no good as she was a Bathtist and well let’s just say that Bathtist and Catoholics did not believe the same things. She then learned that the Germans celebrated the Yule which was based on Odin’s great hunting party in the sky. The children would leave straw and carrots in their boots for Odin’s horses and he would in turn leave them presents.

 No not horse apples, real presents like dolls and candy. This information again did her no good in her non-pagan Santa argument. The Netherlands and Belgium celebrated De Geode Sint or The Friendly Saint. Not to be confused with Casper the Friendly Ghost; they are two completely different holidays. She learned that the Christmas tree may have originated as a Druid symbol during the winter solstice. None of these facts were helping her in any way form an argument for Santa and a Christmas tree.

She again walked up to Mrs. Riley the librarian at her elementary school and asked for another reference for Christmas and the relating symbols. Mrs. Riley with her mini-skirt and go-go boots smiled at Little Gladys and walked with her to the reference section. “Gladys, why are you so interested in finding out about the origins of Christmas? Is this a project you are working on for class” she asked as she adjusted her glasses. Gladys looked at her Hush-puppies and shook her head “no ma’am. Our Sunday school teacher said his kids couldn’t have a tree or believe in Santa because it’s sack-religionous. I think its sack-relgionous to not let them believe.” Mrs. Riley corrected her and said “sacrilegious. I think it would be a shame to not believe in Santa. Gladys, do you still believe in Santa?” Gladys looked at Mrs. Riley and replied “I want to but I know it’s really your parents. I don’t care though; I still pretend that he exists. My mom still gives us presents from him.” Mrs. Riley smiled and placed her hand on Gladys’ shoulder “you can believe if you want to, it’s okay. I still believe in fact I just finished my letter to Santa would you like to read it?”

Gladys looked at the librarian and cocked her eyebrow “you wrote a letter to Santa? Why?” Mrs. Riley adjusted her skirt and smoothed down her hair “because you never know. What if Santa is real and people just tell you he doesn’t exist. You know like that horrible woman that wants to take prayer out of our schools. She doesn’t believe Jesus exists. It is a matter of faith. If you have faith then it doesn’t matter what anyone says.”

Little Gladys looked at the book that Mrs. Riley had handed her it was titled “Bible Stories”. Gladys thought about faith and what it had to do with Santa. The light bulb went off over Gladys’ head and she hugged the librarian and ran back to the table where she was making notes.

She was ready. She was more than ready she was Perry Mason ready. She walked into her Sunday school class holding her white Bible that zipped all the way around and had her name engraved in gold in the leather cover. That bible had been a Christmas present from Santa the year before. She walked up to Brother Bupkis and cleared her throat. “Hey Gladys how are you this fine day” he queried. “Brother Bupkis, can I talk to you about something serious” Gladys asked. The minister agreed and took Gladys into the prayer room. He sat on one pew and she on the other.

Gladys unfolded her paper and took a deep breath. “Brother B, I know you think Santa is evil and that Christmas trees are pagan but I think you are wrong.” The man shook his head and replied “you don’t understand Gladys; you’re too young to understand.” Gladys hated it when grown-ups said that. They really didn’t know that sometimes she understood better than they did. She understood without having all those clouded grown-up opinions. She looked at her paper and said “I did a lot of research and I can certainly understand why you would feel that celebrating Christmas with a tree and Santa could be miscon… miscom… um not be right. I was getting pretty discouraged but then my librarian said something that made me think differently.” The young minister smiled and put his hand on Gladys shoulder “I’m sure you did a lot of studying on this but my mind is made up.” Gladys bit back her frustration and marched on “I did but that’s not important what is important is that it made me realize that it’s about faith. If you don’t have faith and believe then nothing is real. The baby Jesus being borned in a trough is just a story. The guy parting the sea is just a story. Jesus being dead as a doornail then coming back to life is just a story unless you have faith. Santa is just a story but if it teaches you to have faith then is it evil? If you equate the character of Santa with Jesus then is it evil? If you use the life of the tree as the life of Christ and the presents as the gifts he gives is it evil? Is it? If I can have faith in Santa bringing me the one thing I really want then I can have faith that Christ will forgive me of my sins”

Brother Bupkis wiped his face with his hands and then looked at Gladys. “Gladys you make a really good point but I think it is important for my kids to grow up knowing the truth.” Gladys lowered her head and thanked the man for his time. She took her seat in class and felt sorry for the Bupkis kids.

Christmas approached and she saw little four year old Katie Bupkis in the vestibule of church. The little girl ran up to Gladys and cried “guess what! You’ll never ever in a million hundred years guess.” Gladys smiled and said “you got a pony?” Katy giggled and said “No.” Gladys guessed again “you got a puppy?” Katy squealed “NO! We got a Christmas tree. Daddy took us and bought us a Christmas tree.” Gladys hugged the little girl and made her way to the front of the church. Sister Bupkis was standing waiting for Katie and saw Gladys and gave her a hug “I don’t know what you said to Mr. Bupkis, Gladys, but thank you.”

Gladys smiled and said “I just told him you got to have faith.”

I haven’t put a Christmas tree up for a couple of years now. I just want you to know it’s not because I think it’s pagan or evil. It is because I’m lazy. Happy Festivus oh and Santa if you are reading this I DO BELIEVE.

Gladys has Snowless Random Thoughts 12-11-09

It is Friday again and time for Mrs. 4444 to present her Friday Fragments, which I made her Fragment of the Week. Yes I’m just that good.

Go on go over read her fragments, link yours and have a big old fragmented party. Then go on over to Ann Again and Again for your weekly Virtual Girls Night Out. Have a drink, even if it’s just water, read some stories and partake in her game. Also link your Friday to her Friday. *********************************************

I am happy and sad at the same time. No I’m not bi-polar my girls are both leaving for their Christmas trips today. I will miss them watching Friends and making cheese cakes. I will really miss those cheese cakes.

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I am a sap for Christmas movies. I love the old movies but I will sit for hours watching the really hokey movies on Hallmark and Lifetime. Evidently I just can’t get enough of Peter Faulk being Max the Christmas Angel and Valerie Bertinelli finding her long lost schizophrenic brother.

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My favorite Christmas movie of all time is Christmas in Connecticut with Barbara Stanwyck, not the one with Diane Cannon. What is yours?


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Remember that Sesame Street song one of these things doesn’t belong?

One of these things is not like the others,

one of these things just doesn't belong,

Can you tell which thing is not like the others

by the time I finish my song?

This popped up on my Entertainment Local Events of my homepage.

Local Events


• Brian Setzer Christmas Extravaganza


• Metallica


• 20-20-20
Festival Ballet: The Nutcracker


• Festival Ballet Theatre's The Nutcracker- School Performances

So which of these things doesn’t belong?

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This week’s overheard was in line at my local grocery store.
A woman was on her cell phone talking away the man in line behind her evidently decided he was part of the conversation.

Lady on phone: You would not believe her house. It was huge.

Man in linebehind lady on phone: Why thank you I didn’t think you had noticed.

Lady on phone turns and looks at man in a questioning way. And continues with her call.

Lady on phone: And she had painted the walls yellow.

Man in line: I have always liked yellow, but I would have painted them puce.

Again lady on the phone turns and looks at man in line behind her and said

I am talking to my friend on the phone. I am not talking to you.

Man in line: Well then talk to her somewhere else or include me in your conversation because we can all hear everything you are saying.

Lady on the phone goes back to her phone conversation and says: So Julie like I was saying some jerk wants to paint her house puce and is an idiot for trying to join our conversation.

And they say the Christmas spirit is dead and gone.

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Otin hosts his Happy Hour Friday over at the Wizard of Otin.  Go see what makes him happy and link your happy thoughts to his happy thoughts and we will all be happy together.  No?  Well here are some of the things that make me happy.

Sheets dried by the warm sunshine

Unusual events.  This is Skijorling and no I didn't participate.

Christmas scenes that look like this from afar

Now go on and be good to one another and remember thoughts become things, think good ones.

The Snowballs of Hell

Once again it is time for Theme Thursday.  This week the Theme is SNOW.  Yes, as in Let it Snow, Let it Snow...  So go on over and read the Theme Thursday entries at Theme Thursday and link up your own Snow.

There it was finally. They had been sending out warnings, giving updates and predicting it for days. They stood noses pressed to the picture window in the forbidden room. They were risking life and limb being in the there but that was the best place to sit and stare at the Christmas tree and the snow falling in the front yard at the same time. Did you hear that? What was that? Is that momma’s car coming down the street? These were the questions little Gladys kept asking her older siblings. She was just a bit nervous about being in the forbidden room. I mean what if Nurse Meme came home early and caught them in the living room. The room she had forbidden them to enter. The room that the only person brave enough to enter was Trooper Bob and that was only because he carried a gun. Okay truth was he was a little afraid to go in there too.

Buck looked at Gladys and said “relax, pip squeak. Nurse Meme won’t be home for hours and she will never know we were in here because you are going to vacuum after we leave.” Then he turned to Matilda and winked. Gladys looked from one to the other and said “but I wanna go too. You can’t leave me here. I’m gonna tell.” Buck sighed heavily and replied “you’re too little. You’ll get hurt.” Matilda chimed in “yeah besides you’ll just get sick or something and then we will have to come home early.”

Gladys stamped her foot and screamed “I will NOT and I’m gonna tell if you don’t let me come.” Yes Little Gladys could be a real brat when forced. Buck whispered something in Matilda’s ear and she giggled. “Okay brat. You can come but first you have to fix us grilled cheese sandwiches.” Gladys decided that was an easy deal so she headed to the kitchen. She was only seven but if she drug the step stool up to the oven she could reach the knobs.

Gladys took the loaf of Wonder bread and divided out the slices.

 She slathered Parkay Margarine onto the bread then unwrapped a slice of Kraft American processed cheese product and inserted it into the bread. She slid the cooking sheet into the oven, stood on the stool and set it to broil. Now here was the trick, you had to crack the oven open and watch it to make sure they didn’t burn. When the outside got golden she took the oven mitt and a spatula and turned the sandwiches over so that the bright white side was exposed. She completed this task and took the sandwiches to the counter. She removed the crusts and placed them on paper plates. Then she poured some Tang into three Dixie cups and put them on the table. She was a gourmet cook and she was going to announce dinner to her guests.

Gladys stuck her head in the door of the forbidden room but didn’t see Buck or Matilda anywhere. She moved on to the bedrooms and then on into the den where the television was blaring out Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer. Little Gladys stood in the den with the fire blazing and Burl Ives singing Holly Jolly Christmas. .

She knew they had hoodwinked her. They had used the sandwiches to distract her and they had gone out to the neighborhood snowball fight without her. It wasn’t fair. She knew she wasn’t supposed to go out at night alone but was it really alone if they were already out there?

She was in a quandary. Did she go outside and risk getting grounded or did she stay inside and miss maybe the only snow fall of the year? They had watched the snow start and were waiting for it to collect enough to be able to play war. The snow was now deep enough and all the kids on the block would be converging in the empty lot next to the Varner’s house. She was missing out. What to do? What to do? She did the only thing she knew how to do. She sat down and started crying. They did things like this to her all the time knowing that if she broke the rules she would rat on herself. They also knew that they weren’t supposed to leave her alone.

She started sniffing the snot bubbles back into her nose and wiping her eyes. She wasn’t going to be the one in trouble, THEY would. She could go outside with a clear conscience. She ran to the hall closet and pulled out her coat with the big hood lined with almost fur, she pulled on her goulashes and her left mitten, yes only one. She couldn’t find the other so she put a sock on her right hand and headed out the door. She was going to build a snow man and make a million snow balls and throw them at her siblings. She might even go sledding. Well she would if she had a sled and a hill. She ran out into the front yard where the snow had piled up a quarter of an inch deep and looked into the moonlit night. She breathed in the cold damp air and started down the drive.

Gladys felt her feet sliding out from under her before she could do anything about it. Her equilibrium was off. It was the fake fur lined hood she was sure of it. She reached out to grab on to something but all she grabbed was air. She screamed as her tail bone met the pavement and then her head. She wanted to cry but she had hit so hard it had knocked the breath from her leaving her unable to do anything but gasp for air. That is when she felt something stinging her face. She opened her eyes and saw icy pellets coming down hard.

Gladys sat up and looked around. She could hear the neighborhood kids in the empty lot down the street but she couldn’t see them. That meant they couldn’t see her. She wouldn’t tell them about her fall. She tried to stand up but fell again this time on her knees. She tried again but could not find purchase on the icy concrete drive and ended up flat on her face. Tears began flowing from her eyes and freezing on her cheeks.

She scrambled again trying to stand up and once again she ended up on her knees. The sock on her right hand was wet and her hands were beginning to hurt. She was sure that she had frost bite and would be loosing at least one of her fingers. The knees of her red corduroy pants were soaked and her knees were throbbing. The seat of her pants was wet and her tail bone was wailing. She was miserable. She got up on all fours and began crawling toward the garage. She made it to the doorway and was able to stand up.

Little Gladys stood there for a moment listening to the cries of pain and laughter coming from the empty lot. She could almost make out Buck’s voice yelling for Matilda to take cover. She thought about trying to get out of the drive again then she felt her cold numb hands, her aching butt bone and her stinging knees. She looked at the white dusting of snow on the lawn and at the moon peaking out from behind the cloud. She put her wet sock covered hand and the knob and turned it. She walked into the laundry room leaving behind her a wake of wet frozen clothes. She got into her pajama’s, prepared herself a cup of hot cocoa and grabbed her paper plated cheese sandwich. She marched into the den and sat down in front of the blazing fire and watched Frosty save the day.

Just The Facts 12-8-09

There are a million stories in the city.

Dum-dah-dum…dum-dah-de-dum-de-dum.

"The story you are about to hear is true; only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.")

The Flathead Beacon:

Police Blotter for the week ending 12-08-09

A sampling of crime briefs from the Kalispell Police and Flathead County Sheriff’s reports…by Heather Jurvis (comments by Gladys)

Monday 11/30/2009
12:01 a.m. Someone threw snowballs at passing cars in Martin City.

Was it the Abmoninal Snowman?
2:24 a.m. A car with a red light on top pulled into a driveway on Trumble Creek Road.
Now where I come from a car with a red light on the top means the police are in your driveway. Maybe they are there because you have been throwing snowballs at passing cars.

4:12 a.m. Reports of a woman being held against her will on Lower Valley Road proved unfounded. The situation involved a large amount of alcohol.
KYLE? IS THAT YOU? Did you do it again?

8:02 a.m. Someone at a local inn called saying that he hadn’t eaten in quite a while and couldn’t get out of his room. Authorities checked on him and found that he was perfectly fine.
Was he hoping to have Dominoes delivered?

4:22 p.m. Someone on Farm to Market Road has been receiving unwanted phone calls.
How many times do I have to say this? DON’T ANSWER THE PHONE!

Tuesday 12/1/2009
11:49 a.m. An intoxicated man argued verbally with his wife, then left.
Why would he argue with her and then stay?
12:17 p.m. A young kid lying on the road near a Columbia Falls school had a stomachache but was otherwise fine.
That is what Trooper Bob would call a sh*t pain.

2:38 p.m. Two neighbors on Haywire Gulch cannot agree on an easement issue. A driveway may or may not overlap onto the wrong property.
Things are a bit haywire in the gulch.  Hence the name Haywire Gulch
3:19 p.m. Someone walked into the Bigfork Fire Hall with their severed finger in tow. The individual received medical attention.
Wouldn’t it have been better if they had brought it in a cooler rather than towing it in?
Thursday 12/3/2009
6:09 p.m. A man with a metal walking stick was seen lying on the ground near a Whitefish gas station. Authorities checked it out and found that he was fine.
Maybe he had a sh*t pain.

8:25 p.m. A 13-year-old boy called to report that his mother had spanked him for misbehaving at home.
Okay I’m going to tell you my bad mothering story here. When Tadpole was about that age she came home from school and told me that they had learned about child abuse. She then proceeded to tell me that spanking was against the law and if I spanked her that she would call the cops. I patted my sweet child on the head and said “you would have a hard time dialing the phone with two broken hands.”

Friday 12/4/2009
6:41 a.m. Someone on Dern Drive heard a sound outside their window. Although the reporting party suspected a prowler, no one was found on the premises.
It was the abdominal snow man
7:47 a.m. Someone called from Columbia Falls to report that their trailer was sinking. Specific details are unknown.
Was it IN the falls?

12:04 a.m. A female party called from a Bigfork bowling alley to report that someone had threatened her. The woman struggled to stay on the line because of her state of extreme intoxication.

I think I see the problem here. She was so drunk she thought that people were throwing the balls at her not at the pins.

The Joe Friday Quote of the week:

And then there's your first night on the beat. When you try to arrest a drunken prostitute in a Main St. bar and she rips your new uniform to shreds. You'll buy another one-- out of your own pocket.