29.12.06

Actually, lots of things come in small packages.

Before I get distracted by New Year's Weekend in the Queen City, it's time to reveal the mystery. Last week, I reported that my mother bought me an expensive present that I wouldn't like. There were some good guesses, but when the gift wrap came off on Christmas Day, I was holding...

...a gold St. Christopher medallion.

Now, if you've known me for a while, think back, and try to recall the last time I wore a ring. Or a necklace. Or a bracelet. Or a piercing. Or, for that matter, a watch that didn't have an indiglo digital readout. You'd think that if my mom notices when I buy my milk from a different grocery, she'd notice that I have never in my life worn jewelry. (Well, there was that Green Lantern ring, but that was a political issue.) Did she think that the reason I haven't worn jewelry up until now was that I didn't have anything with a saint on it?

Speaking of which, I am somewhat familiar with St. Christopher. He's the patron saint of travelers, which certainly puts me under his jurisdiction. He also had the head of a dog, depending on which version you believe is the word of God. (Now that's dogma.)

He sounds like a good guy to know, and I've nothing against him or his followers, but I still won't be carrying that medallion with me. Basically, it's for the same reason that I didn't apply for EI when I was unemployed: Sure, if I sweetened up the application with the right buzzwords, I'd sound sufficiently traumatised to glean a few cheques, but it would've been help I didn't really need, and it would have taken way from those who did. I can't help but apply that same logic to the "Jesus loves you no matter what you do" school of thought. I mean, I'm just trying to be polite.

Anyway, I'm getting off tangent here -- let's get back to the present. I'm still grateful, you know. It's a token from my mother saying that she loves me and that she worries about me when I travel, but she doesn't want me to stop traveling, because she knows I enjoy it. On that level, it's a wonderful Christmas gift.

I can live with that.

And I'm especially grateful that it wasn't a set of golf clubs.

4 comments:

chad said...

Hang on St. Christopher through the smoke
and the oil,
Buckle down the rumble seat,
Let the radiator boil,
Got an overhead downshift,
And a two dollar grill,
Got an 85 cabin,
On an 85 hill


I'd added your Wii number to my Address Book, but in my haste forgot to leave mine... 3819 6313 6707 3469

Denton said...

What the... how come Google keeps telling that this is a Rod Stewart song? Man, if I'd known that his "American Songbook" volumes would lead to this, I would've spoken up sooner.

Anyway, good to see you, Chad!

chad said...

Yikes! He's my musical arch-enemy! I've actually not spoken his name since sometime in the mid '90's.

I'd intended to reference a Tom Waits' song from Frank's Wild Years, but I shudder to think that the other man you mentioned wrote it.

Denton said...

Don't worry; I agree with you entirely that it's a Tom Waits song. It's just that seeing the unspoken's name come up at all was odd enough to deserve mentioning.

About The Author

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Canadian explorer. Chemist by training, biologist by nature. Long-time supporter and participant in National Novel Writing Month. Known as "Aquadeo" in most Internet circles. Also known as "that guy with the pants" to people who have seen me in certain pants.