Sunday, December 10, 2017

'Twas The Night Before The French Roast

Was I that transparent? Despite my pin-striped Brooks Brothers suit and Master of the Universe manner - I had my cell phone resting on top of my expensive leather T. Anthony briefcase as if expecting an important call - could she see that I was really one of life's losers?  - Michael Gates Gill

I don't have kids, but if I did, I really think I'd just skip right over the whole Christmas eve tradition of reading them 'Twas The Night Before Christmas, which was, I've always suspected, written by department store salespeople of the day looking to maximize profits through manipulating entire generations of children to expect people to buy them more things.

I think I would, instead, read to my children a story which could assist me in establishing some behaviors in them which would help them to see the bigger pictures when adversity hits them at totally random points throughout their lives, and helping them to understand how they can find meaning in humble service to others - and not just whine and complain their entire lives away while demanding more stuff, because, enough stuff, funny thing and as it turns out, is never enough.

I think I would, instead, read to my children the best Christmas storybook I've myself read - and it not being the best because it was ever intended to be a Christmas story by the author - yet because its message is simply the best I could think of for sharing with my children at Christmas, or any other time.

Chapter One of How Starbucks Saved My Life can be read here.

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