Around this time of the year, we feel it (joy) in the air, hear the Salvation-Army bell, and see motorists stopping for panhandlers. Very much heart-warming, like in Joyeux Noel (1914 WWI film).
Enough for year round. Spin it again.
My first memorable Christmas in the alley where I grew up: tables were set out, blocking traffic (the only time not for funeral). I remember plenty of food/drink. Join us! (I was an under age. Yet, invited and included). That’s how I remembered.
Then the itch and the scratches through the night, perhaps from allergy to seafoods or drinks.
In All Quiet on the Western Front, our protagonist, almost survived till the end, recalled his first bombardment, and how his platoon had helped themselves to the whole pig that night.
Meals in the military. Memories of war. The dead in that context was more fortunate.
The ongoing joke of my times was “what! you’re gonna ship us to Nam?” Or ” When we get back to the world” (per Tobias Wolff) meant out of this war, to anywhere but there.
Let’s see: we’re gonna buy a whole case of Champagne. Cheap Champagne.
Costco Chicken. and of course, Chocolate. To celebrate. To spread the joy.
Sparkling drinks for Sparks of divinity. Even the Three wisemen came having followed the guiding star.
A Messiah is born.
Giving. What’s precious. What’s valuable. The Nativity with : manger mixed with myrrh, donkey in starry desert.
Just like a scene of contrast I saw this morning: a motorcyclist pulling out his wallet for a panhandler. It’s 2023 and not 1914 when opposing parties joined in the celebration. We do have hope still. That it only takes a spark. To get a fire going.
Just like that nuclear jolt in Berkeley, or the first locomotive that ignites the Industrial Revolution. Somewhere in time, we made that game-changing leap: to be where we are in the evolutionary chain. To have the ability to think, to remember and reflect.
I remember scratching like crazy that Christmas Eve. In that bent and out of shape alley. Yet the occasion was joy, not mourning as usual. And occasional pops of guns still could be heard. With fireworks in the background We created our own space for peace, inner peace, amidst war (outside). Our Joyeux Noel film set wasn’t as cold as in 1914, sitting with friends and not enemies. BTW, that same neighbor was the one who pulled away the barbed wires for us to back out to the street, and to never look back years later.
What are they gonna do? Ship me back to NAM?
Thang Nguyen 555 