It isn't the Blizzard of 78

 But it's earned our respect:

Especially in the sustained bitter cold temperatures.  It isn't that we don't have cold or subzero temperatures here in the Buckeye State.  But I'm not aware of a time in my memory that we've had them for so long a stretch.  And because of that, the more than foot of snow we received isn't going anywhere anytime soon.  

Again, nowhere close to the legendary Blizzard of 78, which saw two massive fronts converge over the Ohio Valley, a drop in temperature by forty degrees in a matter of hours that cast a sheet of ice over the state, among the lowest barometric readings ever recorded, days of snow, and of course the unforgettable hurricane force winds that pushed that covered entire houses with snow drifts.  Schools closed by the weeks at a time. And in some remote rural areas, it was almost a month before road crews were able to push through to those isolated by the storm.

But this storm still packed a punch.  College classes resumed today, as have most functions apart from the public schools, which remain closed.  As a note, I am generally not a hat wearer except occasionally for some sporting events.  Even in winter I prefer to keep my head uncovered.  Likewise, even in cold temperatures, I usually don't bother wearing gloves.  Like my Dad who preferred the cold, it usually doesn't bother me.  But I went out to get the cars cleared off this morning, when the actual temperature was -5 degrees not counting wind chill, and within minutes I could feel the sharp pain of the cold in my fingers.  Prompting me to grab a pair.  So we'll call it 'so cold it's Dave wearing a hat and gloves cold.'  

On the other hand, even after the snow plows, it still looks pretty in the old neighborhood

My 2020 MLK post

And I stand by it. 

And, as my son noted, the same development continues.  That is, when he was young, we began hearing about MLK well before Christmas, and it continued well past Black History Month.  Throughout the rest of the year you could count on hearing MLK quoted or referenced at least once a week in sermons, interviews, speeches and newscasts.  

Now?  The first mention of MLK Day I heard was last Tuesday (apart from the extended weather forecast that had today as MLK Day on the calendar).  I remember as a pastor being in meetings in November when I was asked plans for the day.  Now?  Our priest mentioned him in his homily yesterday, but that's it. I think that's the first time I've heard him mentioned in church since last year. Yet when we came into the church, like most churches I had seen, it wasn't uncommon to hear him reference many times over the year.  I did see a MLK post on some news page last year before the holidays.  Can't remember why, but that was it.

After all, we've all but completely endorsed judging and sizing people up based on race and skin color (think White Privilege).  And since 2020, the Left has made it clear that violence, rather than never being the answer, can be a darn good answer.  So much for the man of peace calling for content of character over skin color.

Yes, there were some attempts in 2020 and 2021 to insist we had the MLK legacy all wrong.  That before he was killed he was warming up to a bit of the old ultra-violence, especially when dealing with America's whiteness problem.  But that seemed to have crashed pretty quickly.  

Now, it's the odd mention every few months give or take. And for a week or so, we roll out the MLK day focus, hit it hard on the day itself (the message today apparently being that MLK would be right with the anti-ICE protesters), and then that's that.  We'll see. But if this year is anything like the last several, this too shall pass and pass quickly.  

BTW, this is not an indictment on the man himself. It's an indictment on a nation that has played this false for decades.  It's just so apparent when you see how MLK has been manipulated to achieve ends it's unlikely MLK ever imagined. 

Sad but true

 This has been around for several years:

But it continues to be true.  The problems we see today are the result of endless causes.  Figuring out which are the key factors to what we've become is a task unto itself.  Admitting that something went seriously wrong, on the other hand, is simple.  

The enemy of the Christian West is their friend

Thus: 

I'm old enough to remember when it was offensive that Western women, like journalists, had to don such apparel when visiting a Muslim nation.  Heck, I can remember when the very appearance of such apparel was seen as an affront to women's universal equality.  But I do believe that if that the Left, or some ally committed to the demise of the Christian West, said here wear this:

that liberal women would fall over themselves to do just that.  And not just feminists. For instance: 

Yep. Because we know that nowhere in the Muslim world do those within the LGBTQ lifestyle enjoy anything close to equality, if not the ability to survive.  But the enemy of the West is the Left's friend.  Better the Muslim world thrive even as it crushes gay rights than the country that panders to gay rights not be destroyed.   

Oh, and I'm not stupid.  I know one of the Left's talking points is that if anyone not Euro-American does something bad, like oppress homosexuals, browbeat women, murder Jews - it's because they learned it from the West.  That is not only a common retort, but an increasingly accepted one. But that sort of BS that only an intellectual could believe is for another time. 

Friday Frivolity: The best cookbook ever

At least if a cookbook can inspire an entire family's focus on establishing long traditions and our celebrating our heritage.  We received this as a Christmas present the year our first boy was born. Up until that time we really didn't 'do anything' as a family, at least in terms of traditions.  Flying by the seat of our pants best described things through our early years. 

Though not terribly imaginative, somehow it clicked.  It's presented as a faux cookbook from the Mary Cratchit of A Christmas Carole fame.  The very loose premise is that somehow Mary Cratchit, Bob's wife, has compiled the recipes by experience or interviews, including a post- redemption Scrooge (hence Fezziwig's ball).  It has seven complete dinners, with accompanying beverages and desserts, and they are centered around the key figures of the book and the days of Christmas: Fezziwig's Christmas Eve Ball, Nephew Fred's Christmas Dinner, Cratchit's Christmas Dinner, Tiny Tim's Caroling Party, Young Marley's Boxing Day Breakfast, Mary's Afternoon Tea, Scrooge's Twelfth Night Celebration. 

I must admit, I wondered about the origins of young Marley's breakfast, since no explanation is given for how Mrs. Cratchit comes by it.  It's noteworthy, and a sign of the times, that the cookbook includes a brief nod to Boxing Day, its origins and how the tradition of giving to the poor remains today in the practice of employers giving bonuses on that day or the Christmas holiday in general.  Funny stuff.  Because of course today, the tradition has emerged that Christmastime is a fine time for companies to lay off employees and cut down on staff.  I guess a subscription to the Jelly of the Month club doesn't sound too bad after all. 

Anyway, back to the book.  Each meal features a seasonal or regional favorite main dish, like Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding, Roast Turkey with Sage and Onion Stuffing, or Roast Fresh Ham with Thyme. While other entries, such as the afternoon tea sporting such dainties as Cucumber Sandwiches with Watercress Butter, Herbed Egg Sandwiches and Scones with Devonshire Cream and Strawberry Preserves, and of course Plum Pudding pad out the rest of various menus.  

It's not particular to actual cooking methods, and doesn't pretend that this is some gourmet publication.  For Mincemeat Pie, canned Mincemeat Pie Filling will do (rather than making from scratch).  Likewise frozen veggies will do.  So it wasn't even some 'cook the way they did in Victorian England' book.  

Yet for some reason, it clicked. For the record, our first foray was the Roast Beef and Yorkshire pudding topped with Wassail and Plum Pudding - none of which, save the Roast Beef, I had ever had.  I doubt we've used all of the actual recipes, or even most to be honest.  But somehow, in some way, it lit a fire in us that would blossom and overflow in an ever growing number of annual traditions that defined our family over the years.

Oh, there were times when the traditions became unwieldy, especially as we tried to cling to ones that the older sons did when they were young so the youngest could enjoy them too.  At the same time the older ones were growing and pushing into new areas so that the whole began to feel almost logjammed.  

Nonetheless, over the years many of those traditions stuck, and it always did my heart good when I heard one of the boys speak to how this or that tradition meant something.  From the thrill of getting the first apple cider in fall*, to the excitement they had as kids when they heard Trick or Treat play on the old Disney tape, to the opening chords of the Carpenters' Christmas album right after Santa drives by in front of Macy's, to the smell of roast lamb at Easter - they spent years letting me know that for all the bumps, those traditions were what they associated with good times through our annual journeys.  And for that, I'll always be glad.  Therefore, I will always prize the book that started it all.  

You can trace their inconsistent enthusiasm even on behalf of their youngest,
but they're still fun memories

*I've told my sons that some things are written in stone.  That no matter what they do in life, even if they become some corporate zillionaire, there is no reason in the world they should ever have cider outside of the fall and Christmas holiday seasons.  

Why I don't buy the media's Jan 6 narrative

Or any media narrative for that matter, is because when I see this:

I'm reminded of the recent explosion of these and similar stories:

If years of a particular group being attacked and murdered by the tens of thousands leaves the press scratching their heads and wondering if it rises to the definition of massacre or persecution, then I'm sure not going to believe them when they insist the January 6th Capital riot was an existential threat to life and democracy and the worst terrorist attack in America since 9/11.  The fact that so many outlets zero in on the word Genocide and ponder what it could mean in the way Gary Johnson pondered what Aleppo could mean only exacerbates the mendacity. They never seem to worry about terms like white nationalism, white supremacy, fascist, authoritarianism, or even genocide when applied to anything right of center or historical America.  No complications there. 

Oh, and for those using the excuse that Muslims have also been targeted by these groups in Nigeria, I remember when pointing out that white Americans are also killed by police each year didn't matter in the wake of George Floyd.  Call me silly, but I reject the whole notion so common among the Left that declaring X to be true only matters until it's not convenient for X to be true. 

Hard to believe

 It was 30 years ago this last New Years Eve that this wonderful strip came to an end:

As they say, time does fly.  True to form, Watterson has never attempted any big comeback.  By all accounts, he took the tremendous fortune he received from the strip and retired into a quiet life and pursing what projects interest him. 

In its day, Calvin and Hobbes emerged as the comic strip that everyone was reading.  From the blue collar to the Ivy League. It had come about in that golden age of comics in the 1980s.  You still had the politically charged Doonesbury.  And the grand dame of all comic strips, Peanuts, still dominated the top front page of the comics section.   Also came Bloom County, an edgy and surreal comic strip that wasn't afraid to offend everyone.  At the same time, you saw debut that strange unreal world of the Far Side.  But among them all C&H skyrocketed to the top of the class. 

The good news is that Watterson did what so few ever seem to know to do - he got out while on top.  Oh, looking back you could see the cracks.  You could tell he was losing his edge, becoming more preachy, and beginning to betray some of the rules he had laid out for the strip early on.  But that was only toward the end.  There was still enough good that when he finally closed up shop, he was still near the top of his game.  And that's never bad.