What is it about the Christmas season that makes one so nostalgic? Seems like all I can do these days is sit around and think about the old days. Sometimes, those thoughts bring back joy and sometimes, well, not so much. But one such thought left me pondering the state of cartoons.
Subscribe to Good Morning RSS feed
I am making a list and checking it twice and no, it has nothing to do with Christmas presents. I have finished with my Christmas shopping. Now I am on to planning my New Year’s Eve feast. Yes, I said feast. I am ready to let 2014 go.
Twice in the past week, my two-year-old coonhound Skeeter has exploited a fissure in the fence I built him and taken a Christmas vacation of his own.
Finally, last night, I got to watch “It’s A Wonderful Life” for the first time this season. After watching Christmas movies since the day after Halloween, I was really ready. I know every generation has to have their new holiday movies, and the world would get tired of watching the same old stuff over and over again, but some of the stuff that has flooded the television airways this past season has been a terrible imitation of the Frank Capra classsic.
One of my favorite quotes from the TV show, “The Office,” goes like this:
While I enjoy it just as much as the next person, sometimes I don’t understand the love affair some people have with bacon. For me it has always been something for special occasions; a treat for hard work. However some people just seem to take it too far.
Recently I read a piece in RedBook about how the movie “Love Actually” would be different if it were made in today’s world with today’s technology. For those who can’t remember, the movie was made in 2003. Yep, way back then.
I often write about life’s funny things. However, life also has many less humorous, more poignant moments.
My coffee pot takes no fewer than seven steps to produce one pot of coffee. Se-ven. Starting my chainsaw requires five minutes of switch-flipping, pump-priming and expletive mumbling. Heck, even a simple task like starting a fire in my fireplace takes the patience of 10,000 men before the flames are roaring.
When I was in fifth grade my teacher read “The Christmas Box” to the class as the winter break neared. If you’re not familiar with the novel by Richard Paul Evans, it tells the story of a young family that moves in with an elderly, wealthy woman to help care for her and her massive home.