Tag Archives: purist

Construct

Construct: (v) to build or erect something

Four days until Christmas.

I sit in my home and look around.

In the corner is a beautiful Christmas tree. It’s perfect for our little abode. In my earlier years I was a purist.

A tree had to be located–preferably on a farm–chopped down by my axe, brought back to the house, set into a stand, usually crooked, with two or three match boxes under the legs to make it even.

I spent hours stringing lights, hanging tinsel and arranging ornaments on the extracted fir. I did not feel successful unless I personally constructed my Christmas funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
tree.

Last year I went to the store and found one that hooked together, and when connected correctly, had all of its lights and branches perfectly formed to create a glowing mass of wonder.

I also used to think I had to have my nose in everyone’s business, so it was clear to them that I cared and also that my influence was obvious. Now I realize that getting all of my personal work done, doing my writing projects and remembering where I placed my favorite slippers is plenty of labor for me.

I do not need to construct other people’s lives to satisfy what I have deemed to be a respectable life plan.

I do admire those people who have a knack for putting things together, but I happen to be one of those individuals who’s an enthusiast about things that are already constructed, and arrive in my presence in totality–ready to be enjoyed.

Donate Button

 

Mr. Kringle's Tales...26 Stories 'Til Christmas

(click the elephant to see what he’s reading!)

Subscribe to Jonathan’s Weekly Podcast

Good News and Better News

 

Chow

Chow: (n) food.

There aren’t many things about which I am a purist.

I greatly believe that human beings have the right to phrase, think, pursue and even live out their hearts’ desire.

This doesn’t mean there aren’t ideas and phrases I find annoying–and one of those peccadilloes is when people decide to get cute about
describing eating.

I personally like the word “eat.”

I see no reason to make it more clever. So when people refer to food as “chow,” and slap me on the back, asking me if I’m ready to “chow down,” I suddenly turn into a German Shepherd and want to bite them.

After all, German Shepherds do chow down. They put their faces in bowls and stuff the food into their mouths until it falls out the sides, returning to the bowl to continue their slurping and crunching.

I am not a German Shepherd.

I don’t eat chow, and therefore, I don’t “chow down.”

I also don’t like to pull myself up to the old feed trough. (There seems to be an animal theme going on here…)

I don’t like to shovel food.

I don’t particularly care to inhale my food.

I really do just like to eat.

And I don’t want to be prissy about it, but when I hear the word “chow” I think of someone who wants to convey he or she has been in the military, or a 13-year-old girl who thinks she’s cool because she knows the Italian word for “good-bye.”

 

Donate Button