Don't Stand too Close to Me.

I think I brought home more than memories and gifts from the Loop Christmas. I have been fighting a nasal drip and sore throat since the trip. The same having been suffered through by the rest of my family, but I in fits of stubbornness have refused to take medicine nor go to the doctor. I snorted and sniffled my way through semester exams, and pretty have much felt miserable through our Christmas stuff here at home, at my Mom's, and at Brandy's Mom's. So this morning I got up, sounding about like I had a 2 pack a day habit, and as if i had gargled with Drain-O. That would not have been too bad, but I had one ear completely stopped up and hurting, and the other about "half full".

I gave up. It was time to go to the doctor...

Brandy and the kids use a different doctor here than the clinic I "use." By "use" I mean the mandatory physicals we have to take at school each year. I had been wanting to use Brandy's doctor after hearing how good he was with the girls. Unfortunately he was out of town until next week, so I resorted to use the clinic. So after waiting an hour and a half (not too bad as far as medical places go, but remember where we are talking here) I got in and spent maybe 5 minutes, to hear the guy say, "I don't think it's a bacterial infection, so... I can give you a steroid shot, but if its not allergies, don't expect much." Part of me wanted to spit a a big brown hunk of phlegm and ask him if he didn't want to run it over to the lab to make sure it's "not infected". But I remained polite while I think my temperature and blood pressure started to climb. Then he said, "I could write you a prescription, but there's an Over-The-Counter that will do the same thing to get rid of that mucus." My insurance plan doesn't have an Rx Card, so he gave me the name of it, "Mucinex-D" and told me I would have to ask the pharmacist to give it to me, since it is a variety of Mucinex containing pseudoephedrine.

I couldn't believe it, when I asked, and the pharmacist at the local drug store gave it to me, I had to give them my Driver's License, and then they entered my name and information into a list! She said they had to keep up with it where they could tell law enforcement who might be have the ingredients to make meth. I was thinking "Great, sell the Chemistry teacher a precursor to an illegal drug, and put his name on a list!" I wanted to ask the lady at the counter, do they keep a list of everyone who buys aluminum foil and "The Works" at the grocery store, just in case they might want to build a bomb? Or a list of everyone who purchases carving knives from Bed Bath and Beyond in case they decide to dismember their spouse?

I was checking news sites later in the evening, and one of the Digg sites mentioned the real reason for crap you go through just to get rid of a little snot, and why today's Sudafed is just about as good for your cold as taking cherry Kool-Aid, and its not because of the Meth-heads out there. The full article can be found here. The following are excerpts:

"Let's follow the money a bit. It seems that most all pseudoephedrine is manufactured in China and India, and very cheaply, much more cheaply than it can be made in the United States or Europe. What that means is that these companies don't have lobbyists in Washington who can make an effective case for their product.

Contrast this was phenylephrine, the world's largest manufacturer of which is located in Germany. The company is called Boehringer-Ingelheim, according to MSNBC. It developed the drug in 1949 for use in eyedrops. In the last two years, virtually every manufacturer of cold medicine has changed its formula to include the Boehringer drug. Some continue to make the old formula available but only with special access.

Is it possible that the move against wonderful pseudoephedrine and in favor of useless phenylephrine was really a form of protectionism in disguise? That it was really about rewarding a well-connected company at the expense of companies without connections?

If that sounds cynical, take a look at this. It seems that our friends at Boehringer Ingelheim are rather interested in American politics, with 73% of its donations going to Republican candidates for federal office. You can see here that Boehringer even has a PAC located in Ridgefield, Connecticut. Someone with more time than I have ought to check to see how the people it supported for Congress voted on the act that resulted in a massive shift toward their product, and has nearly kept its competitive product off the market.

Oh and look here. It turns out that this company spent $1.85 million on lobbying in 2005, and this was a huge upsurge over all previous years. "

I would continue to rant, however some CIA webcrawler will probably come across this and brand me an Enemy of the State AND a Drug Addicted Terrorist, all because I had a sinus infection and an earache. You might want to just say you've never heard of me, and don't know anything if guys in the black Crown Victorias drop by your door...

Deceit, Deception, and The North Pole.

Another strike against Brandy and myself in the "Parents of the Year" contest... as if the Oreo incident did not disqualify us indefinitely.

Holiday Season usually affords enough time to stretch out the family celebrations where there are few if any conflicts in scheduling. This is in part since I have two weeks off, and Brandy sets her own schedule. However, it seems the Yuletide Grinch conspired this year and set us "betwixt a sugar plum and a hard place" when it comes to making appointed rounds between "you and yours". I figure it was odds catching up, but when you have the opportunity to blame events in your life on fantasy characters you should make the most if it. "No sir, I did not get drunk on rum and then fall asleep at the wheel Captain, the Mermaid made me steer the ship into those rocks..." You get the idea.

Our dilemma: Christmas eve at Grammy and Grumps, Christmas Day at MaMa and PaPa's. This would not be difficult, but Christmas is slated to take place in the evening at "Grammy's House" and we could not find a good way to get back home in time to properly entertain some house guests that stop by on Christmas Eve, as well as one (whispered) "Jolly Old Elf."

We do not mention his common name here, since it sends cold shivers down Megan's back! She is totally frightened by the clandestine, chimney-entry, nocturnal Noel-sneaker, St. Nicholas. I think she has grown up in a modern age where stories of old, whiskered men enticing young girls to "sit on their lap" usually don't end with good cheer. She has no trouble with the notion of a person who comes in and drops off the goodies she has asked for, and then leaves post-haste. However, if said "bowl full of jelly" made its way down the hall towards her bedroom, I think we would have "The Night Before Christmas" meets "The Shining." No lap sitting, or even stares in the mall. Just a nice letter, and "please come while I'm asleep, drop off the stuff, and stay in the kitchen to eat your cookies. Thank You."

Where was I? Oh Yes! Time Management. Not enough time to entertain guests who wish to be around to see what that "Red Suited Fellow" brought. Other folk would have just changed plans, or sucked it up, left a key under the mat and "be warm and filled" post-it noted to a re-gifted fruitcake. But we were selfish, as we wanted a chance to be with everyone this Christmas, and keep the traditions we have-- all of them, as long as we may. So those hard pressed find novel solutions, and this one even got a grin from the misses.

Last night as Megan was brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed, I asked her if we could talk for a moment. She gave me her attention and I told her a li-- a "fabrication atop fabrication". Much like a velvet Christmas dress atop a petticoat, each enough on their own, yet together full and rich. It was deception, however I contend this friendly season is replete with deception. We make up excuses for where we have been to cover shopping trips to the store. We launder funds where gift purchases do not show on credit card statements. We include...I'll stop here, it's just excuses and you have already seen through this ruse. You get the point.

I said to Megan, "Hey I e-mailed Santa." She shot a chilling look at me as if I had spirited a curse. She searched around as if looking for the ghost of Marley (not Bob...) As if just mentioning the name would cause Claus to jump off the Coke bottle and come for her. I told her, "It's OK. I had to ask if he could move us up in the rotation." She looked at me inquisitively, reassured that the stuff would arrive but not while she was standing in the middle of the bathroom with toothbrush in hand. I began my tale:

"You see, I e-mailed the North Pole and told them of the scheduling issue we were having. I didn't get a reply back from him, but from his Logistics Office. They said he was very busy with last minute details. The Department of Homeland Security was having issues with whether or not the bottles of bubble liquid were under the regulation size limit, and some of his elves were having trouble with renewal of their guest visas. Both Barak Obama and Hillary Clinton mentioned legislative support, but have spent so much time in Iowa lately, he doesn't know if they are going to help him out or not. "Dubbya" isn't on his list right now, so he figures he isn't on Bush's either. I replied and told them I understood and we would manage. But then they forwarded me a waiver form, that allowed us to be part of the "PEST-R," or "Pre-Eve Sleigh Test-Run." Who knew Santa had Engineering Elves, like NASA (although most of them are probably having to return to India after the season.) To make sure the sleigh and reindeer are operating at maximum efficiency, Santa delivers some packages to select homes the night before Christmas Eve, as a dress-rehearsal to the real event. This way they can make sure the AutoReign, Cruise, GPS, satellite telemetry link, On-board Internet and Real-Time Naughty-Nice Database, Reindeer Defecation Storage Systems, Defroster, and iPod-music Sync are working correctly. I emailed the form back and we've been approved."

"So he's coming Sunday Night?" She asked. Her eyes squinted slightly as if she was measuring my words carefully. I saw her sifting my yarn through that 5-year old brain of cognition and wisdom. I thought I might be in trouble.

"Yeah...Sunday Night," I replied hesitantly, thinking she might have found an issue with the story.

"When I'm asleep, right?" Her look more harsh.

"Yes. When you're asleep," I said in mocking comfort.

"OK." She smiled as she walked out the bathroom, content with the knowledge that she would see no weird man in red traipsing into her room, no matter the evening.

She walked down the hall. I followed and we all prayed together in her room. Not for things, other than in thanksgiving of what He has given us for the day. We prayed for people and thier health, and safe travels to see their family. We prayed our friends and family would find peace during this season of bustle, and blessings not in new gifts but in old acquaintances. We prayed thanks notsomuch for a baby in a manger, but for a man on a cross. I prayed for forgiveness, and to learn to be a better father and husband.

The Amen was spoke from all, and one by one the hugs and kisses were given, and lights turned out. And we all went to bed for a "long winter's nap."

Merry Christmas.