Something on my Mind: Old Year Reflections, New Year Predictions

I don't know which is harder for me this early in the New Year: looking backwards or looking forward.

Looking ahead, we make resolutions, repair broken relationships, turn over new leaves, and anticipate plans for the next twelve months.

Looking back, we reflect on the “highlights,” which often work their way into our Christmas newsletters (even newspaper columns). But where are the “lowlights”? Do we gloss over problems from the past? Do we de-emphasize the disappointments, turning a blind eye to them? Sweeping the events of the past year under the proverbial carpet doesn't mean they'll go away.

Be it a Christmas newsletter, Canadian politics, or world affairs, we must consider the past in order to face the future. We ignore this principle at our peril.

So I draw from our past year or two: Did anyone anticipate the price of oil sitting this low, and creating this much unemployment? Or did anyone ever make the connection between Alberta and the NDP, or Canada and the Liberals?

Well, actually I did: I just didn't think the results to be so pronounced.

Yes, I could see the ineptitude of the provincial Conservatives, and I could sense the insipidity of the federal Conservatives. Those facts were a start, but I never thought they would lead to the mess we're in now.

You'd think voters were blindfolded and threw darts at the ballot. Surely no one could voted that way with their eyes open. How shortsighted could they be? Or more to the point, have they never examined the past?

I voted the way I did because I did examine the past (recent history, if you will). I was acutely aware of policies by both respective parties. Thus, because I learned by looking back, I am not surprised at what I see coming out of Edmonton and Ottawa.

Surprised, no; offended, alarmed, and disgusted, yes.

You see, when we look into the past, we can see certain developments, that may or may not, if unchecked, worsen in the future. But if we don't take that look back, that is, if we don't study the past and don't interpret those facts accurately, we have only ourselves to blame.

Studying and interpreting are fine, but are useless unless we learn from the past

It has been said that those who don't learn from history are bound to repeat it. Well said, and the operative word is “learn.” But studying it, then ignoring it, is a waste of time (and money, resources, maybe even lives). It is the ultimate futility.

Analyzing the past gives us a sense of the future. Disregarding the past gives us no sense for the future. And if we continue to pooh-pooh the past, the mess we're already in is going continue into the future.

That's why a minimal regard for history is very scary. I'd even go as far to say it is “irresponsible.” And even worse, what is being passed off as history in educational and media circles these days is pure tripe (an old line of mine).

But at the end of the day, we have no one to blame but ourselves if we ignore the past. And the penalty for ignoring lessons from the past? A very miserable future.

In other words, while I didn't anticipate the socialist sweep of Alberta, or the liberal (lower case “l” intentional) success in Ottawa, I knew that any ground given to these parties would put us on bad footing (pun mercilessly intended) for the future.

Politics aside, one principle, that of cause and effect applies, whether from years ago, to decades ago, maybe even centuries ago--be it moral, cultural, or economic. For instance, the implosion of the nuclear family the last decade or two ago is catching up with us now. And the mess of “First Nations” ghettos, oops, reserves, established many decades ago is also catching up with us now.

Reflections on the past are necessary, both the highlights and the lowlights. We just need to learn from them. They should be applied to assessing and tracking the future. Learning from the past allows us to face the future equipped, alert, and pro-active.

So yes, it's good to look forward at this time of year, but do not forget to glance backwards. Looking forward and backwards are clearly connected.

In other words, the roots of the past will produce the fruit of the future. And the question begs: What are we producing?

 

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Something on my my Mind: Christmas, or Christ-miss? Christ-mess?

So, it's a few days before the big day, that day we celebrate the birth of the Christ-child. No matter how you approach it, I sincerely trust your celebration(s) will be a great time for you and your family.

However, in far too many circles here in the West, that opening line would be unacceptable: too religious and too assertive. Such would produce protests and petitions. And for starters, that would only be just over the songs.

Question: Why all the fuss? I have no idea.

For those types of people, Christmas becomes Christ-miss. That's more tragic than witty, if I may so say myself. In other words, they “miss” out on the genuine good that comes with Christmas season. I cannot fathom why all the pettiness (sorry, friends, but that's what it is) that they drag into the season.

The birth of Jesus was a verifiable historical event. Any thinking person would not dispute that. The Christ-missers have no problem celebrating with presents, trees, lights, and turkey dinner, but they want the fundamental reason for the season left out.

That's like saying that I would like teaching if it wasn't for the kids—or a store if it wasn't for the customers

Here's a tip to those whose noses are out of joint: Do your Christmas thing your way, but leave the rest of us alone. Deal? You don't want nativity scenes? No problem, don't have them. Just let us have ours. You want to delete any reference to Jesus, Christ, or God in the Christmas carols? No problem; sing your own inane ditties (man, I love that line!). Just let us sing the ones we value.

I recognize clearly that so many in the world have no time for the birth of Jesus, or at least don't feel the urge to celebrate it. That may be for religious, cultural, or other, reasons. No problem; but that doesn't mean I need to protest or petition.

Strange that so many have come to “miss” the significance of what Christmas is all about, and want to join the Grinch in spreading their grumpiness around. One wonders what the real reason is. Fear? Resentment? Bitterness?

Then there is another group that I think about at this time of year. They too will “miss” out on the real meaning of Christmas, but for very different reasons. You see, their life is a “mess,” so Christmas for them is not so much Christ-miss as it is Christ-mess.

It's Christ-mess because they've just lost their job, or their marriage has fallen apart, or they read the news headlines everyday, or because the doctor's prognosis was not good at all or...well, you get the picture.

Christmas is a time where family and fun, love and laughter, hope and happiness, are emphasized so strongly—and rightly so. And when there has been loss of any of those factors, well, it's not much of a Christmas. Maybe you struggle with a deep sense of alienation of some sort. My heart goes out to you.

Or, maybe you don't, but you know someone who does. Does your heart go out to them?

One of our habits at Christmas is to have someone over (individual or family), someone who has no family connections in the area. We aren't motivated by pity, as much as a sense of camaraderie: we're actually in the same boat. So while we don't seek out those whose lives are necessarily in a “mess,” we do seek out those who may be on their own for the day.

That, I believe, is one of the special spirits of the season.

I am so grateful that both my wife and I were raised in that attitude of Christmas. I think those who object to the spirit of the season really “miss” out. For us to cram our viewpoint down the throat of a reluctant citizenry would be wrong. And for them to cram their take on the season down our throat is equally wrong—and I did say “wrong,” not merely objectionable.

But likewise, for us to hold back the genuine good that we want to share—whether in song, or in scenes, or in spirit-- would likewise be wrong. We need to do what we must do, without restrictions.

As much pain as I feel for those who feel the “mess” of their lives so keenly, believe it or not, I also feel pain for those who “miss” out on what Christmas is all about. It's about giving, not grabbing; about sharing, not stifling; about magnanimity, not miserliness.

So whether it's a “miss” or a “mess,” and regardless of what your take on the season is, I want to wish you one and all the very best of this Christmas season, from our home to yours. Even if you can't accept the words I say, please at least accept the spirit in which it is given. Merry Christmas to all!

 

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Something on my Mind: The Twelve Days of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas, I wish my true love would send to me one Conservative government in Ottawa. Not being impatient, m'love, you understand, but we need it now—before the guy with the name and the mane screws up things some more.

On the second day of Christmas, I wish my true love would send to me a second conservative government in Canada, namely, one here in Alberta. Here we call our truly conservative party “Wildrose.” Just in case you have been imitating Rip Van Winkle in the past few weeks, there are no longer any Conservative (or conservative) governments presently in Canada. This is indeed a sad commentary on thinking Canadians.

On the third day of Christmas, I wish my true love would send to me--I'm on a roll--a third conservative government, this time in Ontario. No matter how bad the last Conservative bunch were there, they look like a bunch of Churchills compared to this the present travesty. You might say that Ontario's Wynne is really Ontario's loss.

On the fourth day of Christmas, I wish my true love would send to me four years of uninterrupted conservative rule (see gifts numbers one, two, and three). Is it just me, or does the current four-year mandate seem like a four-year prison sentence? Even if it's a “suspended” sentence, that would mean hope, progress, and reason themselves are suspended for four more years.

On the fifth day of Christmas, I wish my true love would send to me (let's leave politics for a moment, please) five wins apiece for the Flames and the Oilers. Never thought I'd say anything charitable about either team, but, hey, it's Christmas and all that. Besides, the team I really cheer for (see #11) is in far deeper trouble, and they need even more goals

On the sixth day of Christmas, I wish my true love would send to me a pause in the passing of Bill 6. There are six reasons why it's wrong: restrictive, invasive, expensive, excessive, destructive, and prohibitive. We normal, rational Albertans knew that the NDP would be bad for the province, but not this bad, this soon. We're appalled, astounded, and aghast--and that's only the beginning...of the alphabet.

On the seventh day of Christmas, I wish my true love would send to me seven days without wind. Last week we just had wind twice: Sunday to Wednesday, then Thursday to Saturday. We have more wind than an auctioneer's training school. Or a bean factory. Maybe JT should be out here in a windstorm; it might do something creative to that hair of his.

On the eighth day of Christmas, I wish my true love would send to me at least one government in Canada that would get it right on the following eight points: immigration, medical marijuana, abortion, climate change, same-sex marriage, gun control, doctor-assisted suicide, and carbon footprint. The present leaders are at least consistent: consistently wrong on all eight points.

On the ninth day of Christmas, I wish my true love would send to me nine centimetres of that white stuff, commonly known as snow, every week for the next couple of months. We need it for fun (now) and work (later)--deep enough to plough either way, if you get my...drift. While you're at it, keep it on the fields and mountains and off the roads. And thank you in advance!

On the tenth day of Christmas, I wish my true love would send to me ten provinces that are actually Conservative or conservative (oops, back to politics). Enough's enough, I say; let reason rule, and dismiss the silliness of voting in NDP (or even a NDP-leaning) governments. I have this pressing urge to make a pun about “what's left?” or “leftovers” or “who's left?”--but it's no laughing matter.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, I wish my true love would send to me eleven wins for the Vancouver Canucks in December. If that's too ambitious, what about for December and January? February? (Hey you Canucklehead guys: All you have to do is just put the rubber thing in the meshy thing, raise your arms in the air like you're under arrest, then hug a teammate. Remember doing that a few weeks ago?)

On the twelfth day of Christmas, I wish my true love would send to me twelve more seats for the Wildrose party—for starters, but only at the expense of the NDP. (Maurice, that would mean twelve by-elections in NDP-held ridings, in which the Wildrose would win.) Not enough to assume the leadership of the province (yet), but a lot closer than they are now.

Complaining about politics, hockey, and the weather--can't get anymore Canadian than that, eh?

 

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Something on my Mind: Christmas Joys--or Noise?

There are really old Christmas carols, and then there are those pleasant songs that have appeared in the last few decades. I suggest a third grouping, namely, those mindless, inane ditties. These are the ones we're bombarded with if we're in the wrong store at the wrong time.

Maybe it's an age thing, but the older I get, the more I like the older music.

It could be that I appreciate meaningful content in a meaningless world, or possibly I sense the more serious side of the season, and frivolous lyrics just don't cut it for me any more.

Let me set the tone here: I confess I'm in your face today with my opinions. As I write, it is still a free country and the Stalinist mindset hasn't kicked in...yet. I am simply expressing my personal viewpoint, without any hard facts to force you to believe me. Opinions notwithstanding, I think you would agree that the older carols do have significance and substance, wouldn't you?

Simply put: Today's column, then, is dealing with opinions, memories, and reflections. Whether you agree with me or not is another thing.

I'm working backwards in my comments on my “hit” list (pun mercilessly intended), as follows:

As stated in an earlier column, Christmas is both a historical and a biblical event. To ignore and devalue its historical significance to the point of insatiable greed, kissing under the mistletoe, grabbing more than giving, and all the drinking binges, is a tragedy--a mindless charade of the real thing, if you will.

To put that behaviour to lyrics, then “sing” about it, calling it a Christmas song, is an affront.

That middle group of songs are the ones that I hum and even enjoy myself: Light and shallow, they don't have a lot of substance, to be honest with you, but they have a nice, homey storyline and good rhythm. They're harmless, I suppose, though they clearly miss the significance of Christmas.

After all, while I do like the following, they miss the essence of Christmas: not being being home for (a blue) Christmas; or dreaming of a white Christmas (that I'll be home for, but only in my dreams); or coming home with (those silver) bells on; or finally, those six white boomers (dashing through the snow on a one-horse open sleigh)? (And yes, Maurice, I intentionally mixed the songs up),

I'll limit my annual rant about Santa Claus and his seeming divine ability. Suffice to say, Christmas is not about a fat dude in red and white jump suit, shouting at reindeer that miraculously fly. And with a belly like that, he couldn't possibly slip down anyone's chimney.

Why, he can hardly slip into his pants.

But back to thinking of the old ones: For example, when I hark back to the sort of themes that Handel wrote about in his Messiah, for example, I am moved with deep emotion. If we try to categorize them, we do see some common themes—of angels, stars, shepherds, baby Jesus, the manger, joy, and genuine worship.

Mommy kissing Santa Claus? I don't think so.

Here I am again, with my persistent yearning for themes with “substance.” These are rich themes that I find in these “older” Christmas hymns. I don't think you have to be so-called religious or even “mature” to appreciate the depth of these songs that both men and women, young and old, penned for us, two, three, or four hundred years ago.

I think I'm consistent in this thinking: I also lament the trivialization of death, the glibness of war, the hollowness of marriage, and the cheapness of sex. Good old-fashioned Christmas carols are part of the collateral damage of a juvenile culture.

So for this Christmas, would you be able to make the effort to sing one really old Christmas hymn? Hum it? Okay, maybe look at the words? Or if that's a stretch, could you at least have it playing in the background? Plan to have a “ditty-free” day at least just once over the holidays.

Meaning and significance: these are two missing ingredients in our culture's quest for identity. And Christmas is easily the most opportune time to regain that ground for said genuineness.

Over 300 years ago, the Christmas hymn, O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, expressed the following words: “O come, Desire of nations, bind all peoples in one heart and mind. Bid envy, strife, and quarrels cease; fill the whole world with heaven's peace.”

That's a great message for Christmas, isn't it?

 

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