Timmy’s eyes opened. He’d heard something … something out in the hallway. He’d heard footsteps. Could it be?

He rose to sitting, clutching his blanket. His head was just inches from the ceiling, because his was the top bunk. Below, David still slept.

As quietly as he could, Timmy lifted the covers and jumped to the floor. Then he crept to the door and slowly turned the doorknob. The wooden door groaned a little as Timmy pulled it open. He tip-toed into the hallway, his slippers muffling footfalls on the hardwood.

Timmy turned left then right. The footsteps had gone left, he thought, toward the activity room, where the Christmas tree stood.

He concentrated to maintain a lingering silence as he moved toward the end of the hall. When Timmy reached the room, he saw the figure’s shadowy outline. He couldn’t make out much in the darkness, but Timmy thought he could see a plump belly and beard. His mind added the red suit and hat, the black boots. Could it be Santa? If so, Santa was just standing and staring toward Timmy. More »


Dear Sprint,

I’m sorry you had to hear about it like this. After nearly a decade together, maybe you didn’t see it coming. I know it had to be hard – hearing about our breakup from my new provider.

“Provider.” What a strange word to use. “Partner,” “companion,” “associate.” Whatever you want to call it. I’m with Verizon now.

I wanted to tell you myself. I really did. But Verizon said it would be better this way – to contact you directly and switch the number … and cancel our relationship. As I watched Verizon end us via keystrokes, I remembered our years together, the good and bad.

You gave me unlimited texting and minutes and minutes of talk time. When I first met you, that’s what I noticed – the talk time. Some people like eyes. Others like a sense of humor. For me, it’s talk time, and yours kept me coming back for new phones and new contracts.

Then it soured. I would call you, and it didn’t seem like you even cared. I would be on the phone for hours before reaching you, talking to your friends in South America and India, trying to explain why my bill was too high. And then you would finally talk to me, and you were so dismissive. More »

I don’t mind hip hop. I really don’t. In fact, I like some of it.

But blasting “All of the Lights,” by Kanye West, over and over again is inappropriate for a Christmas display. Delmar’s done it anyway, though, because Delmar is inconsiderate.

He has multicolored icicle lights strung along his gutters, and from what I can tell, they surround the entire house. Plus, he has LED snowflakes, also multicolored, hanging intermittently with the icicles. These lights flash, fade and twinkle with the music, which is streaming from an open kitchen window. “All of the Lights,” over and over again. The entire light show is on repeat.

But he also has animatronic snowmen and reindeer staked in his lawn. The snowmen slowly wave and lift their top hats. The reindeer slowly bow and lift their heads. The movements are completely out of the time with the frantic music. It’s creepy. Plus, he has a sequential light display against the right side of his house that displays a spinning ballerina. I suppose Delmar would argue it has something to do with “The Nutcracker,” but it seems more like some random decoration having nothing to do with Christmas. More »

Blockbuster occupies the corner space at the shopping plaza. A friend of mine in Oregon had scoffed, over Skype, “You still have a Blockbuster?” Actually, up until last week, we had two Blockbusters. The other location was only five miles away.

But that one, a victim of a wireless world, is empty, and here stands the last Blockbuster.

“Blockbusters and CD stores,” my friend had said. “I don’t know how they do it.”

Well, I presume this last Blockbuster will get some traffic from its dead sister, a few new customers who refuse to watch movies on-demand, who refuse to download movies from the internet, who refuse to join Netflix. It’s a free-market presumption.

But that’s not what my friend was talking about. His thoughts fit better with free-market ideas. How would a Blockbuster survive into another decade?

In other words, why am I standing in this Blockbuster scanning new releases? “The Amazing Spiderman,” “Lawless,” “The Expendables 2.” In other words, why am I about to rent “Lawless?” Now I’m thinking about renting “Atlas Shrugged” to add a bit of irony, but I’d rather watch “Lawless,” which probably exudes a better sense of free enterprise anyway.

“You still rent movies from Blockbuster?” my friend had said following my Skype confession. More »