Tossing Salt Presents:
12 (Dougie) Days Of Christmas (Day 8)
John Wayne, Smoke Alarms & Playing Santa
December 17, 2020
I really do hate doctor appointments. And guess where I need to be in slightly over an hour? It’s nothing serious. It’s just a regular check-up to make sure my sugar levels are doing okay, check my bloodwork, get poked and prodded a bit, and be told that I’m fat. My AIC is down so I’ll get a thumbs up for that. I’m fat so that will get a sigh from the good doctor. And the receptionists will ask me if I have any “free samples” from my job at the liquor store. That’s what I have to look forward to this morning. Bleh! But unless we find something wrong that isn’t supposed to be there, I’ll be cut free for three months after this morning. Wish me luck. Now cough!
So while I’m supposed to be getting ready to go get poked, prodded, and lectured, I decided that this would be a good time to at least get a start on today’s edition of the 12 (Dougie) Days Of Christmas, Day 8. Where has the time gone? It seems it was just yesterday that I decided to give this another crack and for the first time in three years, try to write twelve days in a row. And now, we’re 3/4 through. Oy vey. Time is slipping away like the sand in an hourglass… and so are the days of our lives. Let’s get the Magic Bag and see what topics lay on the horizon this lovely, cold morning. We have John Wayne, smoke alarms, and from the Christmas side-bag, playing Santa. Three very distinct topics and I realize that I will not be able to give this the love and attention it deserves before I have to leave to go to do that bend over and cough thing. So I’ll start now and finish later this morning after my running around is complete. Does that sound like a plan or what? Let’s begin, shall we.
One of the great American actors of the sixties and seventies, well known for playing the role of the tough guy, cowboy, and bad-ass patriotic American. Also well known for allegedly being a racist if an interview from 1972 with Playboy Magazine is any indication. There was a big stink about it maybe a year ago and everyone was raising hell and saying that Wayne was this, Wayne was that, etc, and he needs to have all and any tributes and honors stripped because what he said then isn’t politically correct by today’s standards. Screw the idiots that say that stuff and leave the man alone. He was a good actor who entertained millions of people over the years. Don’t wait until thirty years after his death to say, “He’s a bad guy and hurts my feelings” because no one gives a flying fuck. Think of the era and time. Maybe he was racist and maybe he wasn’t, but in the early ’70s, there were a lot of bad things happening and Wayne, despite portraying the hero on the silver screen, was just as human as the rest of us. I’ve never heard any stories about what a bastard he was in real life, he did his job and did it well, and he loved his country, the United States of America. I wish more people felt that way in today’s world. Here’s a clip I found on YouTube with Wayne and several other celebrities of the time singing “God Bless America”. It’s pretty cool. Enjoy the video and we’re moving on.
That’s the device hanging on the wall that beeps loudly when you forget to change the battery once a year and lets out a high pitched scream/squealing noise when the food on the stove or in the oven is burning. Does it even work if there is a fire or, God forbid, smoke? I guess it would, but I hope we never have to find out. So what can I say about smoke alarms? Hmmmmm, I have nothing. Let’s move on.
I did it once. Way back when I was seventeen or eighteen, I was hired by a local store, which my Mom happened to be the manager of (go figure) to play the role of Santa Claus. I have a picture somewhere and I’ll use it in the featured pic for this blog. Imagine that. Me, in the red suit, fake beard, and letting creepy little kids sit on my lap. It was an interesting experience, kind of like ‘Nam, but less rice and fewer bombs exploding. I don’t know why I volunteered and did it and I do know that I’ll never do it again, although now, with the belly, the gray hair, and the wrinkles in my face, not to mention my snazzy boots, I’m far more qualified and fitting than I was then. Every father should enjoy this role at least once in their lives and since I’m not a dad, I guess that was my chance and shot at doing the “Ho Ho Ho” Santa thing. I gripe and get sarcastic talking about it, but it was actually one of the more interesting and pleasant jobs I had back then. I could tell stories, but I won’t. I don’t want flashbacks or nightmares. I guess I’ll end this for now, but keep this in mind. When Santa shows up at your local parade or mall, it could be me. Been there and done that, but who knows? If there’s enough alcohol or mental illness, it could happen again. No, it won’t. Let’s wrap this up.
And thus, another one is in the books. My thanks for reading. Any comments, thoughts, or questions about this or anything on the site is welcome. Have a great one, take care, have a Merry Christmas, and I’ll see you tomorrow.