Ellington

I have just finished wrapping the last present and laying it on the ever growing pile in the corner. There is only a "pile" because I have no tree. I have cats. Cats eat trees. If they don't eat them, they kill them. And, if they don't kill them, they knock them over, chew the lights up, and electrocute themselves. The house would then smell of melted cat fur and cinnamon for the next week. Ask me how I know this.

"How?" You ask.

I had a tree, once.

The wrapping of each present was a huge undertaking made more difficult because I cut a two inch gash in my thumb with a butterknife (OH, The Irony. There will be people that get that, and people that don't.) at my friend's Solstice Party the other night. I almost needed stitches. I probably did need stitches, but I hate doctors worse than I hate the smell of melted cat fur. So, no stitches. As a result I have Christmas presents that look like they were wrapped by a hurricane and a bandaged thumb that would catch me a ride on any interstate in this great country.

I have a feeling the family won't care seeing as how I forked over some hard-earned credit to buy them things because Jesus was born this coming Sunday. I was thinking about not showing up with presents and being "that" person. You know, that person that eschews buying presents because they believe Christmas has turned into a whirlwind of frantic consumerism and other hurried "-isms".

I decided against this because I like my head. I like my head even better when its attached to my body and fully functioning. My family don't care 'bout my damn -isms, or any other political concerns that might get between them and some small thing made in China, wrapped with tissue paper, and calling their sugar-plummed name. Christmas morning I will join them in the merry making. Dropping CD's and sweaters into their little baby bird beaks with all the proudness of a mother that has found the perfect worm.

See, I like presents too. I like the Christmas Booze Fests leading up to the day better, but getting free crap ain't bad either. Especially when this free crap is money. When my family asks me what I want for Christmas, I always say "money". I say this because I think I should be honest when someone asks me a question. What's funny is that they say "okay" and then proceed to give me free money just because I asked for it. As well you know, this doesn't happen that often. I feel I should take advantage of every rum-soaked moment of it.

While lovingly gazing at the stack of "isms" in the corner, I decided I was going to bask in the true meaning of Christmas this year. Right after this decision, I got a phone call from a very good friend of mine. I've known him for about seven years and have always thought the world of him. He simply has a good soul. I knew that he had been on the coast and in New Orleans since the hurricane helping rebuild. He's a contractor. I hadn't heard from him in a while, but that's how things went with him.

After talking to him in September we went the longest stretch without talking that we ever had. I was actually thinking about him yesterday and wondering what he was doing for the holidays. I should have assumed he would call for Christmas, and he did. He told me he'd been living in Waveland for a couple of months. A priest let him use a trailer behind the Catholic Church and he was helping people rebuild their homes for free. He was currently driving a truck full of bikes back to the coast from Jackson after being interviewed on the news last night for all that he's been doing down there. He wouldn't let the news use his name, because he's that kind of person. I won't use it either because I know him well enough to know that he means that when he says it.

On the phone we caught up and he sounded the happiest he's sounded in years. I could feel it on the phone. I asked him "What have you've been doing? We haven't talked in FOREVER. I miss you."

He simply answered, "I've been getting to make people happy. It's been wonderful."

My heart swelled just because I knew him. Because I knew he meant it to the depths of his beautiful soul.

So, I thought if any of you guys wanted to give people down on the coast some free crap because, well, it is Christmas...I would post his cell phone number. 601-214-4402

I'm only doing that because the news ran the number last night and he's getting calls from people that want to donate supplies for rebuilding.

I won't give you his name, but feel free to use the one most people who are calling are using "Are you the guy that is down on the coast doing all that stuff for free?"

Yep.