The Christmas Ball

For the past 15 or so years, I’ve had a ball at Christmas time. Oh sure, I’ve had a great time, but I’ve also had an actual ball...a golf ball to be exact.

You see, my brother and I went golfing some 20 years ago and both spotted someone’s lost ball in the tall grass. If you’ve never golfed before, please understand that finding a lost golf ball is as precious as shooting a good score, especially when you’re two young and broke guys like we were. Being the brothers we are, we both laid claim to the ball, but rather than fight like, well, brothers, we decided to play the hole for it. The best score for that hole won the ball. I still think he cheated.

Sometime over 15 years ago, my brother and I were still young and broke, but we still made sure to exchange gifts at Christmas time. We lived hundreds of miles apart, so we made sure the packages were small and cheap to ship. I received a small, tootsie roll-like package from Jeff that year. It turned out to be a paper towel roll with the golf ball inside. (I guess he felt guilty about cheating). Not to be outdone, I decided to return the favor the next year and, well, returned the ball. This continued for a couple of years…both of us jokingly knowing what was contained within the tootsie roll-like package. One year, I changed the rules.

I read an article about a couple of guys (maybe brothers as well) that exchanged a pair of jeans each year. The jeans were torn and ratty, but the “gift” was in the challenge of how to package the jeans in the most creative way. Inspired by that article, I started our current tradition when I found a 3-D puzzle that required several complex moves to be able to dismantle the puzzle. I took it apart, placed the ball within and reassembled the puzzle while throwing away the instructions. This was the first official “Crazy Golf Ball” exchange, back in 1994.

Jeff responded the following year in an equally creative manner…with a candle shaped golf-ball that contained the ball itself deep within the wax. I decided to honor the spirit of the wrapping by burning the candle until the ball was exposed. Unfortunately, this left a nasty smell in the house and a lasting scar on the ball itself. But this wouldn’t be the first scar.

Over the years, the ball has been packaged in many ways. I have packaged the ball in a snow-globe (luckily the water stayed in); a Christmas ornament that I had my sis-in-law hide on their tree; within an apparent used diaper (the “poop” was melted chocolate and oatmeal); wrapped in twine and masking tape (I was running out of ideas); and super-glued within a block of Legos. In response, Jeff has sent the ball to me wrapped in a large ball of yarn (in honor of my cats); embedded in a commemorative brick; within a decorative holiday “kissing ball;” cooked inside a large Hershey’s kiss; and last year, I received the ball in large ball of hard candy.

This year, I asked a favor of a local machining shop to help me encase the ball in a steel container. Unfortunately, they got a little overzealous with the welding and the ball is quite charred now. I’m not sure if this will mark the end of our tradition, or whether the charred and cracked appearance of the ball will just add to the character. Either way, I’m sure I’ll continue to have a ball at Christmas.

Happy Holidays...yeah, I said it!

Happy Holidays!

Yes, I said “Happy Holidays”…so go ahead and boycott me. Accuse me of being too politically correct, question my Christian faith and deny me the Wal-Mart happy face sticker because I said, “Happy Holidays” rather than “Merry Christmas.” But hear me out first…

When I grew up in the suburbs of West Virginia, we celebrated Christmas. The only Jewish people I knew of were comedians and entertainers on TV and the only black folk (now called African Americans) I knew were the two that went to my school. It was just the way things were back then. There was rarely even a passing mention of Hanukkah, and I’m not even sure if Kwanzaa was a holiday yet. All we celebrated back then was Christmas…and we celebrated it like most of the rest of the country. We had our Christmas tree…we hung our Christmas lights…we attended our parties…and we watched our TV specials. Of course we watched the classic animated shows, like Rudolph, Frosty and “Here Comes Santa Claus.” However, I recall other Christmas specials hosted by various celebrities. Who do you think of when you think of old Christmas specials? Bob Hope? Bing Crosby? Perry Como? Andy Williams? And can you guess one of the songs that Andy Williams was famous for singing? You got it…”Happy Holidays!”

When I grew up, the phrase “Happy Holidays” was a heartfelt greeting of the season. If one had to decipher the meaning, I’d say one was wishing happiness throughout the holiday season. The question then arises, what IS the holiday season? If you ask the retail world, and I have to agree, the holiday season starts on Thanksgiving and ends on New Year’s Day. Saying (or singing) “happy holidays” is merely a way of wishing folks well throughout this time frame. It’s not a politically correct cop-out to include those who celebrate Hanukkah or Kwanzaa. Those who are offended by a store posting “Happy Holidays” versus “Merry Christmas” are just as overly sensitive as those who insist upon using “Happy Holidays” for political correctness. Both parties need to just lighten up and not get so bogged down with this simple phrase.

There…I’ve had my say. And for the record, I usually wish those I encounter “Merry Christmas,” but I really don’t see the problem with wishing everyone “Happy Holidays” as well. So again, Happy Holidays!