Friday, December 31, 2010

The Year In Review!!

2010 has been a very good year. In many ways it has been the best year ever. In some it hasn't been very good. Still, overall, I am optimistic for better, perhaps to optimistic.


  1. My wife and I were married this year on August 21 (after almost 1-year engagement/planning).
  2. If you haven't met my wife you are missing out. She is the most wonderful and caring person I have ever had in my life.
  3. Moved from Topeka, KS to Austin, TX (Arrived Aug 25).
  4. My Bride I honeymooned along the way in Paola, KS; Tulsa, OK; Oklahoma City, OK and Dallas, TX. While her then 29-year old son drove the U-haul with all our belongings.
  5. I finally sold my home in October.
  6. In November I met Texas Governor Rick Perry at a book signing I attended.
  • Unemployed for nearly 4 months, I finally get a part-time job in early Dec., to bring some income in.
  • With me being out of work for 4-months is tough. Even now working only part-time isn't easy either. Still I am optimistic, that we will survive. Over all things could be better. However, I am grateful to have a job. Even if it is only part-time. I am grateful for the gifts I have been given. They truly help more then people realize. No matter how big or small they have been. I don't know what 2011 will bring, but I expect a brighter future. --- go ahead share your thoughts with me now, my ears are open. I'm always eager to hear what you think.
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    Thursday, December 30, 2010

    How to Become a Stress-Free Shopper

    Today I am posting a post originally seen Nov 17, 2007. There are many new people here who have not seen some of my original posts. So I think re-posting some of these can great for those visitors. In addition it gives everyone a new opportunity to comment on those posts.


    Have you ever gone into a store with the intention of only buying one (1) item and you walked out with several bags full of stuff?

    I can remember one time back in about 1990, I carried a cart load of groceries for a customer. Her husband and kids were waiting in the car. The first comment that was made when the door was opened was, "I was going to say, if you had to milk that cow." It is a comment I have heard my own dad say when I was younger to. I knew instantly, that she had said she was just going to grab a gallon of milk. Instead she did her weekly grocery shopping.

    The key here is to have a list. Not a list in your head, but a physical list. So that you don't end up buying more then you expected.

    The same is true for other shopping adventures as well. Grocery shopping is the obvious one, but you also need a list when shopping for clothes, toiletries, birthdays or even Christmas/Hanukkah. No need to stress this holiday season (or throughout the year) if you will follow the three examples below.




    Get together a game plan.


    Let's be blunt here. You MUST write down the exact amount of cash that you can spend on gifts, clothes, groceries or whatever. Nothing is magical about it; every family/individual is different. Whatever the REALISTIC amount is for you , is the limit you MUST stick with. It's pretty stupid to go shopping (anywhere) without a plan.




    Make a list. Check it twice.


    Without a physical list, you are opening yourself up to the risk of overspending. By writing down a list of exactly what you want to buy you are reducing that risk. Once you have a list (especially your Christmas list) look over it multiple times so that you know exactly what you are buying and what for. Doing this will help you avoid all the shinny new toys in the stores.




    Flash the cash.

    Once you have your list, the next thing to do is to get in your car, and stop at the ATM (or your financial institution) and withdraw the amount of cash you have alloted yourself for that particular shopping trip. In the case of Christmas shopping, when the cash is the gone, your shopping is finished. NEVER pull out the plastic.

    As Dave Ramsey says,
    When you pay with cash, don't be afraid to ask for a deal. Most people don't get deals when they're shopping because they either don't pay with cash or are too afraid to ask! What's the worse thing that could happen? They might say no. Big deal. At least you tried! Sometimes I like to go into stores and just flash a handful of cold, hard cash. The store employees sure do pay attention to me!

    Whoever said you had to buy tons and tons of presents for people anyway?! Enjoying gifts and shopping is all fine and dandy, as long as you stay within your own personal financial boundaries. Make a point to not put gifts and pleasing others above more important things in your life - spending time with loved ones, being in control of your money, and getting out of debt







    ---
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    Wednesday, December 29, 2010

    Jed Clampett's How To Live Frugally

    In September of 2007, I wrote a post regarding Jed Clampett's take on personal finance. The same article also appeared in my my newspaper blog post. Today I would like to re-post that article for those who missed either of the first publishing's.



    As a personal finance blogger, I often talk about my own personal finances. My success and my failures are an open book to everyone who reads this blog. In between the more personal posts I post various tips and occasionally an interview or two.
    Today, I set down with Jed Clampett to ask how he lives frugally, even with all his millions.



  • The first thing Jed told me was that last year he switched all of the light bulbs in his Beverly Hills house to compact fluorescents (CFL's). According to Jed, "you will be amazed with over 100 light bulbs in the house, how much this alone saves on our electric bill." He also said, that buying fewer light bulbs over time saves money as well.







  • While we were on electric use, I asked him about his electric use. Seems he not only turns off the lights when he leaves a room, but unless he is reading, he rarely even turns a light on. However, he admits, that as a elementary school dropout, he rarely reads. He even prefers cooking outside rather then using the electric stove.







  • While I keep my furnace set around 64 in the winter, Jed tells me that he keeps it around 50. Seems a little chilly for me, but with the nice sunny California weather. Even the chilly nights, probably isn't cold enough to warrant the use of heat for him and his clan anyway.







  • The thing that surprised me the most, is they have gone hi-tech. With cousin Jethro finally getting into high school, Jethro has become a big fan of the computer and helps his uncle and Granny pay the bills with their banks online bill pay. Not only that they email just about everyone. Saving the family a heap of money on stamps.







  • Around the house, Jed says he reuses the grocery bags they bring home from the store. Instead of buying trash bags, he said they put the plastic grocery bags in the smaller cans, like in the bathrooms and bedrooms. The paper grocery bags, according to Jed, are reused in the bigger trash cans, like in the kitchen.







  • of course, that is difficult sometimes, when they don't buy much food. Since they have a nice garden out by the cement pond, and go hutting for possum for meat. He even offered me some possum and greens, which I politely turned down.







  • Despite all their money, Granny refuses to use a washing machine and dryer. Instead, she still uses a washboard. Hanging the clothes out on the clothes line to dry.







  • Jed also told me that they don't buy soda pop or buy any water. The water that comes from the faucet is better then any thing they drank before they "moved away from there."







  • Finally, he said the one thing he learned before striking it rich and moving away from there, is he compared insurance rates and changed his insurance company to a company that offered cheaper premiums. Something, he still does every year, to make sure he still is getting the best rate.






  • ---
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    Tuesday, December 28, 2010

    25 Frugal Tips Revisited

    A couple of years ago I published the following tips. At the time everyone of them were very accurate. Today I thought I would revisit them. As some of them have changed in my personal life. Some for good reasons and some not.

    The 25 Frugal Tips I Attempt to Follow are as follows:
    1. I am in the process of changing my light bulbs to compact fluorescent lights (C.F.L.) bulbs to save money. (in my old house all of them were changed. Now I am starting over in an apartment.)
    2. In the cold months I keep my furnace setting at 67 degrees. (nice idea, but with my wife's arthritis, arthroposy and other medical conditions)
    3. I am in the process installing outlet insulation. These little babies, help prevent drafts around your outlets and light switches. My first planed major spending this year is getting insulation into my attic. The cost will be around $600 to buy about 20 rolls of insulation, but should save quite a bit in my heating bill. (I even did this in the apartment after I moved in. At least on the outside walls. Hope the owner was smart enough to put the insulation in when he built the place in the 80's.)
    4. I pay nearly all my bills online eliminating the cost of stamps and checks.
    5. Reuse the plastic margarine, cottage cheese, etc, etc bowls to store leftover food in.
    6. Turn off all lights when not in a room
    7. Cook my own meals at home, rather then eating out.
    8. Take my lunch to work. (since my current job is fast food, this would be a little difficult since my break-room is the public dinning area to. However, it is still a great idea that in most cases is a great idea to save money.)
    9. Wash clothes in cold water to save on heat
    10. Pick up money from the ground and save in my change jar
    11. Round up in checkbook and place excess in savings at end of the month.
    12. Put raises or bonuses in savings or apply towards debt
    13. I only cut my hair 3-4 times a year...this last year I got a crew cut and was able to go six months before getting another hair cut. This year, I am thinking about doing the same only shaving it bald, and sort of get a feel what it will be like when I go completely bald. (LOL)
    14. Go to thrift stores, yard sales, and auctions, rather then buying new.
    15. Refrain as much as possible from buying things in vending machines
    16. Buy generic (store brands) over name-brand (My wife also base this on taste)
    17. Pay more than the minimum on my debts.
    18. Re-use the plastic grocery bags as trash bags (especially in the smaller bathroom/bedroom cans). I do the same with paper bags in my kitchen trash can.
    19. I use 1/2 of a dryer sheet per load.
    20. Stock up on non-perishable sale items.
    21. Train myself that my house is not a museum. I don't need to own everything cool that I discover. I can just admire it in the store. (I dream, may even blog about the desire and then work to save for some of these dream items.)
    22. When weather is nice, I walk the 3 blocks to church rather then driving (I usually would have to park 2 blocks away anyway).I do the same thing (or bicycle to neighborhood meetings. (I now live 6 miles from church. So this is now impracticable.)
    23. I pop my own popcorn, rather then buying microwave popcorn. I think it tastes better anyway.(My popcorn popper broke down and it is currently one of the dream items I am trying to save for.)
    24. Don't go to movie theaters
    25. Buy sodas from the supermarket when they’re on sale instead of from the office vending machine. (I have also started trying to limit myself to one soda a day).



    ---
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    Monday, December 27, 2010

    Thanks For becoming a Fan of JMC Ministries

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    Dear Friend,
    Thank you for joining and becoming a fan of JMC Ministires.  Now that you are a fan you will receive updates every month on what JMC Ministries is doing as well as exclusive free music downloads for just being a fan.  If you would like to promote JMC Ministries click on the Street Team link and become a promoter for JMC. 
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    "Ways to Reach the Lost with Internet Evangelist - Jeremy Caverley" Today Stacy talks to the founder of JMC Ministries, Jeremy Caverley about what he is doing for the kingdom of God online with his ministry.   Stacy Lynn Harp, Active Christian Media

    "Miranda Caverley interviewed On NBC 4 News out of Columbus Ohio about A suspicious U.S Census Worker that Came to her home on May 3rd 2010 wanting information on previous neighbors that had moved out of 2 of the homes on her road. As well as information on her landlord."  NBC4i, Miranda Caverley Interview on NBC4i About Suspicous Census Worker

    "Community comes through for Salvation Army" Volunteers Miranda Caverley, left, and Melissa Kepler, right, look for a Dora the Explorer doll for a client Monday during the annual Salvation Army Christmas Giveaway.    LOREN GENSON , Chillicothe Gazette

    "Online PR News – 30-November-2009 – CHILLICOTHE, Ohio – radio show host Jeremy Caverley of JMC LIVE knows how to work a room … especially when it comes to the Internet chat room during his weekly shows on Tuesday nights at 8 pm EST."  Alex Murashko, Social-minded JMC LIVE show stays current, chatty


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    Getting Cable Costs in Line

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    Investors Should Be Wary of Gold Claims

    I recently received an article from the Topeka Capital Journal. It seems that the Kansas Securities Commissioner is warning people of possible scams. Really it isn't anything new as the same information as been given by many reputable financial advisors.
    Kansas' securities regulator says investors should be cautious about putting money into gold and should be on the lookout for scams.
    - Topeka Capital Journal

    According to the Kansas Securities Commissioner investors are seeing a growing number of ads touting gold as safe. Gold prices are approaching record highs. However, historically the value of gold and related investments fluctuate more than the stock market. He said an investment in gold isn't foolproof.

    Wilson also said investors have been harmed by promoters who pitch investment pools in precious metals or gold mines. Also, he said, when sellers offer to retain purchased gold in a secure vault and sell it when the price rises, the gold often doesn't exist.
    - Topeka Capital Journal
    I am glad the commissioner issued this statement. I have often felt the "secure vault" claim was a con job. It is nice to have an expert agree with my thought on this.

    ---
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    Sunday, December 26, 2010

    Our 1st Christmas as a Married Couple

    My wife and I ate Christmas Dinner alone this Christmas. We didn't have much for Christmas, but we had each other and that's what really matters. For dinner we had Turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn bread stuffing, green beans, cranberry sauce and deviled eggs. I also made Strawberry cookies (pictured) and 7-Layer cookies (not pictured), while my wife made no-bake cookies (pictured).


    A nearby church stopped by Christmas day. It was the same church that my wife felt very uncomfortable attending. They were inviting everyone in the complex to attend their church. In addition they also gave us a New Testament and a $5 gift card to McDonald's. We will be able to use the New Testament in the Monday night ministry at church. In addition the $5 McDonald's gift card will be a real blessing on the those nights we are rushed.

    We will have dinner Wednesday after work with her son and his fiance. Today they were in Dallas with some of her family. Hope each of you had a great Christmas. What did you and your families do for the holidays?



    ---
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    JMC Christmas Special

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    Merry Christmas!

    We hope everyone is enjoying this time to celebrate Jesus' birthday!

    Please enjoy our JMC Live Christmas Special with guest stars The Diversity Puppets!


    God Bless

    JMC

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    "Radio Station WAWK AM1140 "The Hawk" In Indiana Interviews Jeremy Caverley Live On Air about his testimony and how he and his wife came to form JMC Ministries"  WAWK AM 1140 "The Hawk", WAWK AM1140 "The Hawk" Interviews Jeremy Caverley

    "Ways to Reach the Lost with Internet Evangelist - Jeremy Caverley" Today Stacy talks to the founder of JMC Ministries, Jeremy Caverley about what he is doing for the kingdom of God online with his ministry.   Stacy Lynn Harp, Active Christian Media

    "Miranda Caverley interviewed On NBC 4 News out of Columbus Ohio about A suspicious U.S Census Worker that Came to her home on May 3rd 2010 wanting information on previous neighbors that had moved out of 2 of the homes on her road. As well as information on her landlord."  NBC4i, Miranda Caverley Interview on NBC4i About Suspicous Census Worker


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    Saturday, December 25, 2010

    Freebies Saturday - Christmas Day Edition

    It's time once again for Freebies Saturday. Even though it is Christmas we are still posting the freebies we find. I make every attempt I can to make sure that the freebies, I present are legitimate offers, and not those "please spam" con-jobs. By legitimate I mean, all you have to do is fill out a simple form giving them your mailing address, so that you can receive the Free offer. They may ask 2-3 simple questions to verify you are eligible (like age, sex, etc). So lets get started shall we. Here are today's Free offers that I have found.



    1. Get free winter product samples today.


    2. Go to the HydroPeptide Facebook page, “like” them, and then click on the “Free Samples” tab. Complete the form and you’ll snag a free sample of HydroPeptide anti-aging serum. 


    3. Get a free sample of Lacoste cologne.


    4. Green Magam® is a highly nutritious, mildly alkaline powder made from organic young barley grass juice. It contains vitamins, minerals, amino acids, enzymes, chlorophyll, carotenoids, flavonoids, and other valuable phytochemicals that support every system of the body.
      Receive your free order of Green Magma® samples
    ---
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    Merry Christmsas and the "Wild" Christmas Trees of Highway 360

    One of the things I have heard about from other Austin bloggers, like Don't Mess With Taxes, is about what she called "wild" Christmas Trees. Apparently the folks around this area will stop along the highway and place decorations on the many trees growing along Loop 360 (aka Capital of Texas Highway). The decorated trees (Juniper Bushes) seem to be between, FM 2222 and Hwy 183, but it seems that the number of trees decorated grows from year to year.
    In a post from the blog, Life Distilled, it seems the local paper did some investigating with a tongue in cheek article (that's no longer available on their site - not even in the archives).
    It’s a bit of a seasonal mystery, one that has attracted the attention of the Texas Department of Transportation, which maintains the right-of-way along the highway. (O.K., we admit we stirred things up when we called them.) Turns out this Austin display is, well, unlawful.
    As someone, who loves Christmas and Christmas trees, I had to see this for myself. I just couldn't wait for the Christmas season, so that I could view these trees of love of the holiday. Not to mention sharing these trees with all of my readers.

    Once, I heard that the trees, had begun to appear, I made the detour off my normal route down 183, to see the trees.  While I was there taking these pictures, one of the local news teams arrived, wanting to interview me about my thoughts on the trees.  I mentioned how it was unique to Austin and that it was a great sign of Christmas Spirit and giving, but all that was cut out for the partial sentence that they used in the story.

    Hope you enjoy the picture(s) and video (below).

    Have a very Merry Christmas!

     

    Video from KVUE-TV (ABC Austin News), who interviewed me as I was taking these pictures Dec. 2, 2010.




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    Friday, December 24, 2010

    Miracle in Climax Canyon


    by Daniel 'Chip' Ciammaichella
    "Ya know something? Life stinks." Chuck was talking to nobody in particular. The bar
    had few other patrons on this Christmas Eve, just a few old men nursing their beers, not
    paying any attention to Chuck's complaints. Chuck didn't care if they were listening or
    not, he was quite drunk, and continued talking.
    "I don't see what's so special about Christmas. What's to be so happy about? Life stinks,
    Christmas or no Christmas. Who needs it anyway? If Christmas is so special why don't
    you buy me another drink, bartender? That would be a fine Christmas gift indeed."
    The bartender heard that, and walked over to where Chuck was slouched at the bar.
    "No problem, pal. It is Christmas Eve, after all. I'll give you one on the house, but it's
    your last one, and you'll have to keep your voice down too. Merry Christmas." He slid a
    shot of Wild Turkey in front of Chuck.
    Chuck only nodded, took his drink, and then resumed his oration.
    "Yea, Merry Christmas. What's to be merry about? In the space of a year I've lost my job,
    my wife, my kids, and any dreams I might have had. Last week I wrecked my truck, and
    my landlord threw me out yesterday. He was in the Christmas spirit, wasn't he?" Chuck
    slammed the shot down his throat before continuing. "To top off the holiday season, my
    sister called to tell me that my Dad probably won't live to the New Year, and I can't get
    back to see him. What the heck do I have to be merry about this Christmas?"
    "Where does your dad live, son?"
    The voice came from Chuck's right. He turned to face a chubby little old man sporting a
    great white beard, dressed in the trappings of a Salvation Army Santa Claus.
    "When did you sneak in, Santa? Whatta ya doing here anyway? Oh, I get it. You're gonna
    spend all that money you collect in them iron pots all day. If you're gonna have a drink
    yourself, at least you could buy me one. It is Christmas, and you're Santa, ain't you?"
    "Yes, Chuck, I am. But you don't really want a drink of whiskey for Christmas, do you?"
    The old man was chuckling.
    "That's what I said I wanted, you old rummy. What kind of Santa are you, anyway?"
    "Come now, Chuck. If there was one thing you could have for Christmas, what would it
    be?"
    The whiskey was getting to Chuck, and he became somber. "If I could, I'd like to see my
    Dad for one last Christmas. He may not make it another year, and I haven't spent
    Christmas with him in a lot of years. But I guess that's a moot point. It's already
    Christmas Eve, he's fifteen hundred miles away in Ohio, my truck is trashed, and I'm
    broke. Neither Santa nor the devil himself could get me home by Christmas day. If you
    were a real good Santa, you'd give me a lift in that sleigh of yours, or put a couple
    thousand bucks into my stocking tonight. Right now, I'd just settle for another drink."
    The old Santa put his gloved hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Have faith, my boy. This is
    Christmas Eve, the night when miracles happen and dreams come true. The Lord blessed
    the world with a miracle on that first Christmas, and many smaller miracles have
    happened each Christmas since. You don't have to believe in Santa Claus, or reindeer, or
    buy a lot of fancy gifts for everybody, you just have to believe in the spirit of Christmas;
    peace on earth and goodwill to men. Miracles can happen, boy, you just have to find the
    spirit of Christmas, and believe. Getting that chip off your shoulder would help a lot too."
    Chuck got up from his stool. "That's all well and good...you old geezer. If you're not
    going to buy me a drink, I'm gonna go to the little boys' room." Chuck stumbled off,
    mumbling to himself as he zeroed in on the restroom door. "Old rummy tells me I got a
    chip on my shoulder. What does he know anyway, sitting on a street corner all day,
    ringing his bell? I got plenty of Christmas spirit...and if he'd buy me another drink I'd
    have even more. Hee, hee..."
    When Chuck returned to his stool, the old man was nowhere in sight. "Hey bartender.
    Where did that old wino Santa Claus go?"
    The bartender looked at Chuck, puzzled. "What Santa Claus?"
    "The one that was sitting next to me. I was talking to him. He was going to buy me a
    drink."
    "You must be pretty drunk, pal. There wasn't anyone sitting next to you. You were all by
    yourself, talking to yourself." The bartender's voice hardened, "I think you'd better leave
    now. You're too drunk. Don't make me call the cops."
    Chuck stared at the bartender. "You must be blind, and you're definitely not in the
    Christmas spirit, are you?" He gave the bartender the universal sign of good luck, with
    his finger, and stumbled out of the bar.
    Outside, the air was cold and flakes of snow fell lazily from the dark sky, reflecting the
    twinkling lights of the big Christmas tree in Ripley Park. Chuck trudged south on Main,
    under the wreaths, garlands, decorations, and multi-colored lights that dressed the street
    up for Christmas. He noticed the sign, pointing the way to the Raton Lions' City of
    Bethlehem display, as he approached Apache Avenue.
    As Chuck turned west on Apache, he realized that he'd never visited the popular
    Christmas display before. "In ten years, I've never been there. I guess now is a good time
    to see what everyone fusses about. It's not like I've got anything better to do. Maybe
    there's a building or something up there that I could sleep in. Sure is cold."
    The cold mountain air and the long walk up the avenue to Climax Canyon left Chuck
    winded, and somewhat sober by the time he reached the entrance to the City of
    Bethlehem. He passed through the archway under the shadow of the trumpeting angels
    that adorned each side, and continued up the dirt road into the canyon. He caught sight at
    once of the nativity scenes that made up the City of Bethlehem, each made up of colorful
    wooden images, brightly lit against the canyon walls. He stopped at each one and read the
    storyboard that told of the scene's place in the story of the first Christmas. Glowing
    images of angels stood guard on the rocky canyon walls. As he came to the scene of
    Christ in the manger, he had to admit to himself that, while not high tech, the City of
    Bethlehem was indeed a special place.
    Chuck spotted an old railroad car around a bend of the canyon. He remembered that the
    Lions used it for storage. "I'll bet it's unlocked. Looks like as good a place as any to catch
    some sleep, without freezing to death." As he got closer to the car, he spotted the glow of
    a campfire farther up the canyon. The scent of cedar smoke and roasting meat began to
    filter into his nostrils. He could see the outlines of two people in the camp, and an Indian
    style teepee stood behind them.
    Chuck stopped in awe just outside the light of the small camp. The man inside the camp
    was magnificent. He was an Indian warrior; of what tribe Chuck could not guess. His
    sleek body was clad in deerskins, and a huge buffalo robe draped his wide shoulders. It
    never occurred to Chuck that an Indian warrior, in the middle of Climax Canyon, in the
    middle of the night, in the middle of winter 1996, was at all out of the ordinary. It
    somehow seemed that he belonged there.
    Sensing that someone was watching, the Indian turned and stared right at Chuck, his
    black eyes piercing through the night. Chuck tried to speak, but the words would not
    come. He wasn't afraid, he just seemed to have forgotten the mechanics of speech. The
    warrior walked quickly towards Chuck, raising his coup-stick to strike, but Chuck stood
    his ground, frozen for no reason he could think of. The warrior stopped short, inches
    away from Chuck's bearded face. He looked fiercely into Chuck's eyes, then at once his
    expression softened. He lowered the coup-stick and took Chuck gently by the arm,
    leading him into the camp. Chuck followed unquestioningly. He and the warrior hadn't
    shared a word, yet they seemed to understand that neither man meant the other any harm.
    As Chuck's eyes adjusted to the glow of the campfire, he noticed the young woman
    sitting near the flames, tending to the rabbit roasting over them. She was a pretty thing;
    her skin was a golden brown, and her eyes were big and brown like a doe's. She paid no
    mind to Chuck, continuing to see to supper.
    The warrior gestured to Chuck to sit, and then turned to fill his beaver-fur clad pipe.
    Chuck watched in wonder as the warrior carefully, almost reverently filled the reddish
    stone pipe with tobacco. He then presented the pipe to the sky, the earth, and the four
    directions, before lighting it with an ember from the fire. When he was sure the tobacco
    was well lit, he passed the pipe to Chuck, who clumsily repeated the ritual and took a
    deep drag off the pipe. The tobacco was pungent and harsh, but its smoke further calmed
    and relaxed him. The warrior nodded and smiled, taking back the pipe and drawing upon
    it himself.
    The woman started to rise with two clay bowls, but the warrior jumped to his feet and
    stopped her. He took the bowls and motioned for her to sit back down. She shot him a
    look that confirmed to Chuck that she was definitely his wife, and sat back down. The
    warrior returned, handing Chuck a bowl of rabbit stew, grinning sheepishly.
    Chuck ate the stew without really tasting it. He wondered who these people were, where
    they were from, and what the heck they were doing out here. As Chuck began to ponder
    the question, a scream pierced the night. He looked to the Indian woman, as the warrior
    jumped up and ran to her side. As he held her in his arms, Chuck noticed for the first time
    that she was pregnant...very pregnant. "Oh boy," he thought, "she's gonna have her baby
    now, isn't she?"
    The warrior was in a panic. This was obviously his first child, and nothing in his
    upbringing had taught him the first thing about child birthing. That was a woman thing,
    something that warriors could not be bothered with. He loved his wife dearly, though,
    and he would have gladly traded his warrior status if only he could help his wife now. His
    black eyes suddenly met Chuck's gaze, and Chuck understood the pleading look at once.
    "Me?" he thought to himself, "What do I know about delivering babies?"
    They helped the young woman into the teepee, and down onto a buffalo robe. Chuck
    thought about what to do next. "Boil water, I've got to boil water." He ran out of the leanto
    and gathered snow, which he placed, into the pot over the fire. The warrior followed,
    understanding...sort of. Instead of going back into the lean-to, Chuck sat at the fire.
    "Better to mind the water than to go back in there. Women have been doing this for
    centuries without my help. Maybe it'll be all over before I get back in there."
    The scream of the woman dimmed Chuck's hopes. The warrior glanced at him, worry and
    concern evident in his eyes. Chuck avoided his stare and turned his attention to the pot
    over the fire. The woman screamed again. Chuck grabbed a ladle and stirred the pot of
    melting snow furiously. He could feel the warrior's eyes on his back. As another scream
    tore the night, Chuck felt the grasp of the warrior's hand on his shoulder. He could stall
    no longer. He rose and walked into the lean-to, praying as he went.
    As Chuck knelt down beside the young woman, he was suprised to see the form of a baby
    in her arms. She had done it herself! Chuck's elation was short lived as he noticed the
    sobs of the woman, and the stillness of the baby. Without hesitation, he reached for the
    baby, held him up by the legs, and slapped his backside sharply. To his relief and
    amazement, the baby burst into a wailing cry. Chuck and the baby's mother were so
    delighted they decided to join him, and tears of joy flowed freely.
    The warrior burst into the teepee. He had heard the cries of the baby, but the tears coming
    from Chuck and his wife confused him. As he cautiously moved forward, his wife placed
    the baby in her arms and presented him to her husband. He realized then what the tears
    were about, as his own eyes became moist. He took the child into his arms, and held him
    proudly. Sensing that the new family should have some time alone, Chuck stepped out of
    the teepee and snuggled down into a warm buffalo robe.
    As Chuck lay in the warmness of the buffalo robe, the warrior emerged from the teepee
    and knelt beside him. The warrior reached into the deerskin pouch around his neck, and
    removed a small object. He placed a small onyx coyote into Chuck's hand and nodded
    with gratitude. Chuck smiled and reached his right hand out to the warrior, and they
    shook. The warrior rose and returned to the teepee as Chuck placed the coyote in his
    pocket, and settled down to a contented sleep. For the first time in his life Chuck
    understood the true meaning of Christmas, and he realized that the Christmas spirit need
    not be limited to only one day a year.
    Chuck was exhausted, and he soon fell into a deep sleep. He dreamed that he was gliding
    through the night air in a sleigh, at the side of the old Santa he met in the bar.
    *****
    "Chuck, wake up." The sound of his father's voice echoed through his head. Then a sharp
    blow to his ribs woke him to the glare of the morning sun.
    "I said wake up, boy. I thought you was dead."
    Chuck looked up into the deeply lined face of his father, confused. "Naw Dad, I was only
    sleeping...DAD!! Where am I? How did I get here? What the..."
    "I was just going to ask you the same thing, son. What are you doing sleeping here on the
    porch? You could have just knocked. I don't know how you got here, but by God I'm darn
    happy that you are. It's been a long time... too long."
    The words of the old Santa in the bar popped into Chuck's mind. "Miracles can happen,
    boy, you just have to find the spirit of Christmas, and believe."
    Chuck looked at his father and smiled. "I got pretty drunk last night, Pop, and I don't have
    the slightest idea how I got here, but I'm glad to be here too. Merry Christmas, Dad...I've
    missed you."
    He could see the tears welling up in the old man's eyes. "Let's go inside, Pop. I'll cook
    Christmas dinner for you, and we'll watch some football; just like we used to."
    Chuck put his arm around the old man and helped him hobble into the house.
    Later that afternoon, Chuck and his father relaxed in the living room, watching football
    on the television. They were discussing the loss of the Cleveland Browns football team to
    Baltimore when the newsbreak interrupted the game on TV. The newsman was
    interviewing a wild-eyed teenager wearing a Plain Dealer newspaper bag around his
    shoulder.
    "I swear it's true, mister. I saw Santa Claus land his sleigh right here on this street. He had
    another fella riding with him, but he was sleeping. I wouldn't lie about something like
    that."
    Chuck's father pointed to the TV. "By God, that's my paper boy. What's wrong with these
    kids today, anyway...Santa Claus landing here on our street. Those drugs are going to
    destroy this country."
    Chuck didn't answer. The previous night's dream replayed in his mind.
    "What's the matter with you, boy? You're as red as a beet. Did you drink too much wine
    with your dinner?"
    "No, Pop. I'm OK. I think I'll get some air, though." He walked out of the house into the
    chill of the Cleveland evening. His hands were cold, so he stuffed them into his pockets.
    He felt an unfamiliar object in his pocket, and pulled it out to see what it was. It was an
    onyx coyote. Chuck smiled and continued walking down the street with the coyote
    clutched in his hand. He remembered that native Americans called the coyote the
    "trickster". He knew that he'd been blessed with not one, but two miracles the previous
    night, but he also knew that nobody would ever believe him if he told them about it.
    Chuck knew, and that was all that mattered. As he turned to return to his father's house,
    the clanging of a Christmas bell, rung by some distant Salvation Army Santa Claus,
    echoed through the night.

    ---
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    It Happened One Christmas

    It Happened One Christmas
    by Daniel 'Chip' Ciammaichella,
    A picture could never do justice to downtown Raton at Christmastime. Traveling north on
    Main, one is treated to the twinkling glow of multi-colored Christmas lights lining the
    street and adorning the well-kept storefronts, all nestled under the imposing, snowcovered
    mountains and mesas that separate New Mexico from Colorado. At this late hour
    on Christmas Eve the view was unspoiled by the presence of people and vehicles. Most
    folks were at home with family and friends, celebrating and looking forward to the magic
    of Christmas morning.
    Despite the charm of downtown Raton, Daryl Washburn wasn't in a mood to appreciate it
    as he trudged up Main past the Christmas tree in Ripley Park. He was having a hard time
    getting into the Christmas spirit this year. Daryl, along with his wife and twin daughters,
    had moved to Raton almost two years earlier. He had taken a job at the Cimarron
    underground coal mining operation, but was recently laid off when the company shut the
    mine down. Daryl had been looking for work ever since, living off of his severance pay
    and doing any odd jobs he could find. His truck needed a transmission, he was a month
    behind with the rent, the kids were outgrowing clothing and shoes rapidly, and his wife
    Sara had recently quit working at the Loaf-n-Jug because of the advanced state of her
    pregnancy. It was going to be a lean Christmas for the Washburns.
    As Daryl turned up towards Sugarite and the north part of town, he stopped to adjust the
    armload of packages he was carrying. These packages were all the presents the
    Washburns would get this Christmas. He'd gotten a winter coat and a doll for each of the
    twins, slippers and a ten-dollar pair of earrings for Sara, and a small turkey for Christmas
    dinner.
    "Not much, but better than nothing." he mumbled to himself as he continued on his way
    towards home. He had hoped to buy more, but he'd lost the money to do so. It was his
    own fault. Daryl had figured on saving a few bucks on a Christmas tree by just cutting his
    own from up on the Old Pass Road. The tree turned out to be a very expensive one
    indeed, after the property owner had him arrested and the judge socked him with a three
    hundred dollar fine.
    "If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all," he'd told the judge.
    Despite his current run of bad luck, Daryl refused to let go of his lifelong dream. He
    wanted to own his own small business. Ever since high school Daryl had been interested
    in computers and the way they would change the way Americans lived, worked, and
    played. He figured that with the right computer equipment and software, he could offer a
    variety of services from his own home, starting off part-time as he worked a regular job
    and building up to a full time endeavor.
    Back home in Kentucky, he had followed in his father's footsteps and worked in the coal
    mines. Unfortunately, the coal mining business back east was mediocre, at best. Just as he
    would begin to earn enough money to start saving for his dream, the lay-offs would
    come. When he did return to work, it was all he could manage just to pay the bills that
    had piled up while he was laid off. He jumped at the chance to work in the New Mexico
    mine. He worked hard, was well liked, and saved every penny he could. Just as he'd
    caught up on paying moving expenses, Sara discovered she was pregnant again. Then the
    Cimarron mine closed down, and Daryl was out of work again.
    As Daryl made his way through the crisp Raton winter night he didn't notice the gay
    decorations, the twinkling lights, or the sweet smell of burning cedar and pinon that
    wisped up from every fireplace. His mind was so cluttered by his own problems he didn't
    even notice the struggling figures under the railroad underpass, until he was right on top
    of them. A feeble cry for help jolted his senses back to the here and now.
    "Help me somebody! Please, don't do this."
    Not ten feet in front of Daryl was an old man dressed as Santa Claus, lying on the ground,
    pleading with three youths who were kicking him as he lay defenseless.
    "Come on, old man. Give us your money or we'll hurt you bad."
    "Yeah, you fat old coot. Give up the cash."
    "Please, I don't have any money. Leave me alone. I'm late; I've got to get going. Don't
    you boys believe in Santa Claus?"
    "Sure, we believe in Santa, don't we guys? You'd better believe in God, cause your gonna
    need him if you don't hand over your wallet." The young thug punctuated his words with
    a kick to the old man's ribs.
    As the ugly scene unfolded before his eyes, all of Daryl's sadness and frustration turned
    to rage. "Things like this don't happen in Raton, especially not on Christmas Eve," he
    thought angrily. He dropped his packages and rushed toward the old man and his
    assailants.
    "Hey! You punks leave that old man alone."
    Startled, the youths turned to face Daryl. While the three only looked to be only sixteen
    or seventeen, their eyes had the hollow look of hungry wolves closing in for the kill.
    Daryl had fought his share of fights, but a chill ran down his spine as he wondered if he
    could handle this bunch alone. The old man in the Santa suit didn't look to be in much
    shape to help out, and Daryl thought furiously for a way to get out of this in one piece.
    He thought, "When in doubt, bluff".
    "I've had a bad day, boys. Why don't you just go on your way and save me the trouble of
    giving you the whipping your daddies should have."
    The youths only laughed. "What have we here, a concerned citizen? Why don't you just
    keep on walking, mister? Hurry, before we stomp on you like we did old Santa Bum
    there."
    The closest youth let fly a large ball of spit that found its mark on Daryl's face.
    "That tears it..." Daryl launched his right fist directly into the nose of the spitter, causing
    him to fall to the ground holding his bleeding, broken, nose between his hands. Daryl
    then turned to face the other two thugs, but before he could lash out again he felt a sharp
    pain shoot through his head, then another, and another, and another.
    "So much for bluffing...," he thought as the world went black.
    *****
    As Daryl began to regain his senses, he felt like every part of his body was in pain. His
    head felt like ten thousand little men were using jackhammers on it, from the inside. He
    tried to get up, but collapsed as the world began to spin around him.
    "By golly, I was starting to think that you were dead, son."
    Daryl opened his eyes, and once they regained focus he saw the face of a white bearded
    old man studying him. The old man's white hair and beard were matted with blood from
    his nose and split lip. His blue eyes twinkled with the reflected light of the street-lamps,
    though the tissue around them was red and swollen.
    "Wha... what happened. I feel as bad as you look."
    "Just take it easy son. Those boys gave you a pretty good beating. Sorry, but you don't
    look so good yourself, you kinda remind me of ten miles of bad road." The old man
    chuckled, then became serious again. "You saved me from those whippersnappers, and I
    sure thank you. I'm sorry you had to take a beating on my account. You broke that one
    fella's nose pretty good, and I'll bet the others really hurt their hands on your head." He
    chuckled again.
    "Don't make me laugh, old man. It hurts too much. Who the hell are you anyway?"
    "Don't you recognize me?"
    Daryl sat up and studied the old man. He had taken a bit of a beating himself, and his red
    Santa suit was soiled and torn.
    "Sorry, I don't. Maybe if you took off the Santa outfit."
    The old man's massive belly shook as he laughed. "It's no costume, son. I'm the real
    thing. I'm Kris Kringle."
    "Yeah right. I'm serious, laughing kind of hurts right now. Help me up and I'll walk you
    to the police station."
    "Oh, no, no. That won't do at all. I've still got a lot of ground to cover tonight. I'm late, I
    must get going."
    "Don't be silly. The police department is just a few blocks away. Let me just get my stuff
    and I'll walk over there with you. I'm O.K. Nothing broken or anything."
    Daryl turned to retrieve his packages.
    "I'm sorry, old timer. Things like this usually don't happen around here. Those young
    punks should be.... Wait! Where's my packages! Those little so and so's stole my
    Christmas presents and my turkey!"
    Daryl's hand shot to his rear pocket. "They stole my wallet too! Of all the bad luck. I
    knew I should have minded my own business. Did you see which way they went?"
    No answer.
    Daryl turned to face the old Santa. "I asked you if you saw which way they... Old man?"
    Daryl's gaze fell on an empty street. The old man in the Santa suit was nowhere to be
    seen.
    "Just great. I get my butt whipped, my wallet stolen, lose my Christmas presents and
    Christmas dinner, and that crazy old man just wanders off. OLD MAN, COME BACK!"
    Daryl hollered in frustration.
    Once he realized that the Santa was indeed gone, he began to rant, rave, and hit the
    concrete sides of the underpass. I can't repeat his words in mixed company. Suddenly,
    Daryl's ranting words were drowned out by a piercing, WHOOP, WHOOP. As Daryl
    turned towards the sound, the bright beam of the police spotlight blinded him.
    "Now you guys show up."
    *****
    Later, the police cruiser pulled up slowly in front of Daryl's house.
    "Thanks for the ride, guy. I appreciate it."
    The police officer leaned towards the passenger side door.
    "No problem. Sorry about the hard time we gave you tonight. You've got to admit, you
    were acting pretty crazy, and your story sounded even crazier. Santa getting mugged… I
    can't remember the last time Raton had a mugging, let alone on Santa Claus. Merry
    Christmas to you."
    "Yeah, some Christmas. Thanks again, officer."
    Daryl's mood had improved somewhat, but as he approached his front door he was filled
    with sadness. Christmas was ruined. He'd lost his presents for Sara and the kids, he'd lost
    Christmas dinner, and he'd lost the little money he had left.
    "Darn crazy old man probably deserved to be mugged. Should have just minded my own
    business."
    Sara was awake. The police had called and assured her that he was all right, but Daryl
    could tell that she had been crying. Daryl fell into her arms.
    "I'm sorry babe."
    His wife smiled sadly, "No use crying over spilled milk. Come on to bed and tell me all
    about it."
    Sara and Daryl checked in on the kids before retiring to their bedroom. Daryl thought to
    himself how sweet and innocent his daughters looked.
    "It's not fair that a bunch of young punks and a crazy old man should ruin their
    Christmas. It's just not fair."
    As he lay in his bed, Sara stroking the hair on his forehead, Daryl relived the events of
    the night. Sara was silent after he finished. For a moment neither spoke, then Daryl broke
    down and began to cry.
    "I'm so sorry, Sara. I've ruined Christmas. When will I ever learn? I'm just a born loser.
    You and the kids would be better off without me."
    Sara took Daryl's head into her small hands and looked him in the eye. Daryl could see
    anger behind her ocean blue eyes, and he turned away.
    "Here it comes," he thought to himself.
    "You listen here, Mr. Daryl Washburn. You're no loser and I love you very much. I won't
    have such talk. You're a good husband and father. The twins adore you and I hope this
    little package I'm carrying now will be a boy... and I hope he grows up to be just like his
    daddy. You did the right thing tonight. You couldn't just stand by and watch a poor
    helpless old man get beaten and robbed. I'm proud of you, and I'll not tolerate any more
    self-pity. You didn't ruin Christmas, and neither did that old man or those terrible young
    hoodlums. Christmas has nothing to do with money, or turkeys, or presents. You're safe,
    you have a family that loves you, and we're together. What more could anyone ask for?"
    Daryl raised his head and looked at his wife, tears welling in her eyes, proudly defiant.
    She never looked more beautiful.
    "I love you, Sara."
    "Turn out the light, darling. Tomorrow is another day."
    *****
    The excited screams of Daryl's twin daughters woke him after it seemed he had just fallen
    asleep.
    "Daddy! Mommy! Wake up! It's Christmas!" Molly and Millie jumped into the bed, then
    back out, too excited to stay still.
    "O.K. girls, go on downstairs. Daddy and I will be down in a minute. We need to talk to
    you."
    Millie ran out, Molly close on her heals.
    "Can we open our presents, Mommy?" they pleaded on the way out.
    The girls were gone in a flash, saving Daryl and Sara the difficult answer.
    "I guess we'd better get it over with."
    Arms around each other, Daryl and Sara walked down the stairs, each dreading having to
    face their daughters empty handed on Christmas morning. Daryl's heart was almost torn
    to shreds when he saw the confused, worried look on the faces of his girls as they
    searched the house for presents they knew had to be somewhere.
    "Santa didn't come, did he?" Millie's eyes were filling with tears.
    Molly was more optimistic. "Maybe he's playing a trick on us. Kinda like the Easter
    Bunny does." Her voice didn't sound confident.
    Daryl started to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Sara took charge, wiping her tear
    soaked eyes. "Girls, let's sit down and talk..."
    The ringing of the doorbell gave Sara a reprieve.
    "Who could that be? Get the door Daryl, I need to put something on." She streaked up the
    stairs.
    When Daryl opened the door, he almost had a stroke. The police officer who had helped
    him the night before was standing on the porch, and he seemed to have the entire police
    department with him… and the fire department as well.
    "Uh... Merry Christmas officer... er... officers. Can I help you?" Daryl's voice was meek,
    indeed.
    "Sorry to bother you at home, sir. But we figured you would want this stuff."
    He handed Daryl a few packages.
    "I believe that these were the items stolen from you last night."
    Daryl was dumbfounded. "How did you find them?"
    "Well sir, the punks that stole it from you turned themselves in, and brought their loot
    with them. It seems they had a good night robbing citizens and looting businesses, but
    met up with some guy dressed in a Santa suit who scared the bejabbers out of them. They
    were so scared of the guy that they confessed to about three dozen robberies and
    burglaries, committed over that last month. They asked us to protect them by putting
    them in jail. Go figure."
    "Daryl, why is the whole police department here?" Sara joined her husband at the door,
    her eyes wide with wonder.
    "And the fire department too, ma'am," piped the policeman, "We needed some help in
    getting all your other stuff over here."
    Now Daryl was confused. "What stuff? This is all I had, except for a turkey."
    "We got your turkey too, sir. It wasn't in such good shape though, so these guys and I all
    chipped in to get you this one." The officer snapped his fingers, and a young fireman
    stepped forward and handed Daryl a thirty-pound Butterball.
    Sara's eyes were beginning to get moist again. "Thank you all so much, but what is all
    that other stuff?"
    "Well ma'am, that's a funny thing. We figured that you all needed a few more toys for
    your kids, so we went to load up the SWAT wagon with our leftover Toys-for-Tots stuff.
    When we opened the door of the wagon, we found a bunch of Christmas packages, all
    with your names on them. The darn wagon was so full of stuff; we had to call the fire
    department to help us deliver it to you. I don't even want to think about how it all got
    there. We see lots of weird stuff in our line of work. I quit asking questions a long time
    ago."
    As Daryl and Sara stood and stared, jaws dropped to their chests, the police and firemen
    formed a bucket line and began passing brightly wrapped packages to each other, and
    into the house. Molly and Millie began tearing the wrappings off at once, their delighted
    screams filling the paper-strewn air. It took most of the morning to unwrap all of the
    presents. There were toys and clothing for the twins, as well as for the little one on the
    way. There were grown-up presents as well. Sara got the set of books she wanted, the
    complete works of Stephen King. Daryl got a state-of-the-art computer, along with a
    printer, assorted software, and a book: How to Make Money at Home With Your PC.
    Daryl's dream seemed within his reach once again.
    "Yes, tomorrow is another day," he thought to himself.
    *****
    Later that evening, Daryl laid back in the easy chair. The combination of all the
    excitement of the last day, and a great turkey dinner, had exhausted him. He didn't try to
    rationalize the events of the day… that could be done later, after a good night's sleep. For
    now, he was content at admitting that Christmas was indeed a magical day. He got up and
    went to the kitchen to turn off the lights. Sara had already gone up to bed, and he was
    anxious to snuggle up in a nice warm bed. He flipped the switch and returned to the
    living room.
    "I told you I was running late."
    The voice made Daryl jump. Sitting in Daryl's easy chair, smoking a pipe, was a chubby
    little old man with a white beard. His red suit was soiled and torn. His eyes had a twinkle
    that made Daryl recognize him at once.
    "You'd better go up to your wife now, son."
    Before Daryl could speak a word, he was gone. He rubbed his eyes, not sure of their
    accuracy.
    "I'd better get some sleep," he mumbled as he trudged up the stairs, checked in on the
    girls and went to his bedroom. Sara was still awake, gazing out the window at the moon
    rising over Johnson Mesa.
    "This is a magical town," she whispered.
    "Yes, it is."
    Sara turned to face him. There was a mysterious glow in her eyes. "There's one more
    present for you."
    "You mean Molly and Millie missed one?"
    "No dear." Her eyes were laughing.
    "You mean...?"
    Daryl wasn't that tired. He reached out to embrace her.
    Sara began to giggle.
    "Yes. I think it's time to go to the hospital."



    ---
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