Review: Jacob Marley's Christmas Carol

With the holiday season peeking around the corner I thought I would share a quick review of my favorite non-traditional Christmas novel.

“Jacob Marley’s Christmas Carol” written by Tom Mula based on his one-man play.

The story is not so much a sequel has it is the same story told from the perspective of the ghost of Jacob Marley.

Beginning with Jacob Marley’s death the story follows Jacob to the other side. While he does find that his just completed life was not exemplary he comes to understand that he has not condemned himself to eternal damnation either.

In dealing with post life bureaucracy Jacob finds that he has the opportunity for redemption if he can complete the mission that he has been offered. The mission fittingly enough is the redemption of Ebenezer Scrooge himself.

The remainder of this excellent book deals with Jacob’s attempts to make Ebenezer aware of his possible fate.

Mr. Mula finally answers the question that had been bothering me for years. Was Jacob himself beyond redemption?

The familiar characters of Dickens London are brought back to life without missing a beat. The scene development and the dialogue are both exceptional. Anyone who loves the Christmas season will find the Spirit of Christmas alive and well in the pages of this wonderful book.

The Face

Once the face was firm and unblemished, no marks or wrinkles to mar the skin. A strong nose, well defined eyes and a mouth upon which could be found a perfect smile.

Passerby’s would stop and ponder the Mona Lisa like perfection of the face. Talking amongst themselves they would comment on various features seemingly happy just to stop and share the moment.

However, perfection in any state never seems to last.

Change happened gradually, so gradually that at first no one seemed to notice.

Eyes beginning to appear a bit sunken nose sagging just a bit and a smile that was becoming more grimace than grin.

Once noticed age began to ravage the face beyond all recognition. The once beautiful features seemed to sink in upon themselves. Collapse of the facial structure appeared to be eminent.

Those who passed no longer stopped, no longer commented, they appeared to have forgotten the beauty they had once beheld.

Finally, to the dismay of its creator the time had come to say goodbye to his creation. Lovingly the young boy picked the jack-o-lantern up off the porch, he carefully wrapped the expired gourd in old newspaper and placed it on top of the trashcan.

Wistfully he turns his back on his old friend already making plans for next years Halloween.

Hot Chocolate Days

Rain again today. October set a record for rainfall in Southern California and it is beginning to look like November may continue the trend.

I found myself walking through the Home Depot parking lot as a band of heavy showers passed overhead. The torrential rain acted as a catalyst and swept be back in time, to a more innocent time.

I am in the 6th grade and I am in the living room of my Nana’s house. A fire pops and hisses in the fireplace while my grandfather pops corn the old fashioned way. His hands grip a long black metal handle connected to a round black pan sealed with a lid. He always said that the secret to perfectly popped corn was in keeping the pan moving over the flames, rhythmically shaking the kernels back and forth ensuring an even pop.

In the kitchen Nana is making hot cocoa following the time-honored recipe passed on to her by her mother. She slowly melts chocolate over a double boiler while whisking in fresh cream, milk and a bit of sugar.

Having walked home from school in the rain I managed to enter the house soaked to the skin despite the presence of an umbrella. Being eleven I just had to step and/or jump into every puddle on my way home.

After toweling off I find myself spread out on the floor before the fire. A large mug of hot chocolate with marshmallow islands floating upon the surface along with a bowl of fresh popped corn covered by a glistening layer of melted butter are within reach of my right hand.

As my bones warm I lose myself in the world of Frank and Joe Hardy tagging along as they solve their latest mystery.

Fast forward to the present. With no fireplace I make do with microwave popcorn and instant hot cocoa. I curl up beneath my Los Angeles Dodger fleece blanket and once again lose myself in the world of the Hardy Boys.

Cynicism

I rarely watch network television anymore. The news and the ads seem to become more and more negative, cynical and just plain moronic.

While watching college football yesterday my local stations bombarded the airwaves with previews of the local news. Their headline read “America: Bitterly Divided”. Sure just under fifty percent of the voting population cast their vote for the loser and just over fifty percent cast their vote for President Bush. I however, fail to see how that makes us bitterly divided. My vote was cast for the losing candidate and I did not wake up post election day with bitter feelings toward anyone who voted for the president. Frankly, while voting is an important right that should be exercised I am not so emotionally invested in either candidate that the outcome will change my outlook on life.

Another aspect of the entertainment/advertising world that I find disturbing is how manufacturers of products that have been determined to have a detrimental affect on the life of a consumer have become big producers of public safety ads.

For example: one of the major producers of cigarettes has a radio spot running where they pat themselves on the back for being a leader in providing training and literature to retail outlets around the country.

What kind of training you may find yourself asking? What type of literature?

They are aiding retail establishments in providing their employees with proper training in the art of checking ID so they do not accidentally sell cigarettes to someone under the age of eighteen.

Training, for checking ID?

How complicated has it become to check ID. You ask for ID, the customer provides it, if they are to young no sell. How tough is that? Last time I checked they even have little signs that tell the cashier what year someone would have to have been born in to legally purchase cigarettes.

This is all major cigarette manufacturers can find to be proud of? Amazing.

Another unsettling aspect of advertising is how beer and wine are sold on television in this country. On one hand they create this artificial world where everyone is having a great time because of their choice of beverages.

There are parties on the beach, in the sports bars, at the ski resorts and of course how could I forget the twins. All this fun created by the use of alcohol. The easily swayed will come to believe that if they buy brand A everything will be right with the world. A beautiful/handsome member of the opposite sex will be draped over each arm. The sky will be blue, the birds will be singing and consumption of massive amounts of alcohol will not be in the process of destroying your liver.

As the commercial ends you are brought back to earth by the famous line: “Please drink sensibly.” As if the people who need to hear that phrase are even listening at this point.

Social drinking does not bother me. I am just a bit cynical about the way alcohol is sold in this country. The shills that produce the commercials are no different than the ones who used to ride into town, behind a mule on a beat up old wagon. From the running board they would sell their magic elixir that promised to cure all that ails you.

At least they had the good sense to get out of town before the townsfolk realized that they had been fleeced.

Hope

Hope rode out of town
Today
Like a hobo
On a freight train
Knapsack over a shoulder
Pockets filled
With nothing but
Yesterday’s dreams

Hope rode out of town
Today
Like an old prospector
On the back
Of an old pack mule
In a vain search
For fertile soil
In which to plant
The seeds of tomorrow’s
Dreams

Hope rode out of town
Today
Like a wild eyed prophet
Whose message
Has fallen upon empty ears
Robe torn
Feet dusty and callused
Still walking with purpose
In search of a fertile
Soul
In which to plant
The seeds
Of hope

Brain Floss

Two minute headlines
No time to think
Ideas remain unprocessed
Sanity on the brink

Commercials fill the void
With mindless entertainment
Untold Hallmark holidays
Celebrations without sentiment

A plastic card
Can buy you happiness
A pocket phone
To hide loneliness

Brain floss
For a lost generation
No thought, no worry
No future destination

Influenced by MTV
Lessons go unlearned
Who shall we mimic today
No original thought discerned

Implants and botox
A poisonous fountain of youth
Despite the millions spent
Plastic cannot erase the truth

Brain floss
Destroys another generation
No hopes, no concerns
All lost to genetic manipulation

Science cannot close Pandora’s box
DNA for the masses
Promising a life without death
Only for the upper classes

Immortality no longer a dream
Genetic welfare for the rich
But for those without connections
Life is still a bitch

Post Election Murmurs

How come we the voters return to office 98% of those running for re-election? Even grading their performance on a curve a minimum of 25% should be sent packing, regardless of party, every election. Do voters actually follow the issues or do they just punch the card for the names they recognize.

Regardless of the outcome the bright spot of this election was that so many people bothered to pull themselves away from reality TV for few minutes and participate in real life by voting. Hopefully this was not an anomily but the beginning of a trend.

Here in California we had a proposition that empitomized selfishness. A gentleman, and I use the term loosely, in Northern California authored a bill that would gut our three strikes law. For those who do not know, the three strike law states that after conviction on a third felony the defendant does a minimum of twenty-five years. Was his cause noble? Was he concerned about the less fortunate who may have turned to crime out of despair. Hardly. His reason for authoring the bill was to get his son out of jail. His sons third felony was a vehicular manslaughter conviction, he was drunk and killed two of his friends. Sure the father spent all this money in a vain attempt to provide junior with a get out of jail free card but where was daddy when the first two felonies were committed.