heard	King Crimson			Beat
			Miles Davis			Kind of Blue
			Funkadelic			Uncle Jam Wants You
			Charlotte Church			Charlotte Church

How to tell if your cat has eaten tinsel. ….still waiting on Queen Latifah's call. (12-12) T he first year that I lived on my own, I set up a little tabletop Christmas tree for myself on the coffee table in my living room. It was my second year attending Florida State University, and my first year working the graveyard shift at WMLO-FM (the home for all of your smooth favorites). Because I was the "new guy" at the radio station I got stuck with all the crappy holiday hours, and consequently I couldn't go home to share the holidays with my family. All my friends were travelling across the country, and I was faced with spending the Christmas Holiday all alone. All alone, that is, except for my pet cat, Tango. On a quiet night in early December I trimmed the tiny tree with a single string of lights, a couple of red and blue ball-shaped ornaments, and some silver tinsel. I put a string of lights around the inside of the single window of my apartment. Still a kitten at that time, Tango loved to knock the ornaments off of the tree and chew on the blinking lights in the window. It was cute, but the sound of the ornaments hitting the floor seemed to echo on forever, reminding me just how empty the place really was. When you got right down to it, I was terribly lonely. But in an odd way I was also kind of proud of the fact that no matter the circumstances, I was still going to celebrate this holiday. I was finally in college, finally living on my own, finally trying to make something of myself. Even though I was cold and wished I had someone to talk to at night, I was still pretty impressed at my resolve to make things work out for the best. Despite my good spirits, the overwhelming loneliness of the situation began to creep in on me as the days before the holiday started to close in. One chilly late night after what seemed endless hours of playing Perry Como and Robert Goulet I came home to that little apartment with a small grocery bag filled with Nestle hot chocolate packets and three cans of Friskies. After plugging in the lights on the tree I fed the cat, put a pot of water on the stove, and then headed to the bathroom to relieve myself. While I was there I took out my trusty scoop so that I could sift out the days clumps from the litterbox. And there, on top of the dull gray sand, was a small pile of cat poo laced with silvery strings of tinsel that tango had obviously not been able to digest. I laughed so hard it brought tears to my eyes. The December holiday has always been my favorite, because I love the happiness that comes from all of the giving and the receiving. A lot of people banter that x-mas has been marred by all the commercialization that has been injected into it over the years, and in some ways it's hard to argue with them. But to me, the smile that comes when you have given the perfect unexpected gift - the feeling you get inside when someone remembered that once in a store a long time ago you said that you would love to have something - that's a magic thing. Right or wrong, our lifetime is the lifetime of getting and giving stuff, and rather than fight it, I prefer to be the best stuff giver that I possibly can. Lots of people turn into robots this time of year and just give out cards, hams, and gift certificates. Everyone tries so hard to appear considerate without being honest to their emotions… I say nuts to that. If I'm going to get you a gift, you are going to get the coolest, most unexpected gift you have ever gotten. I want to see that light in your eyes when you say out loud, "How did you know!?" With that spirit in mind, I have decided that in the coming days I am going to try and write some of my favorite Christmas Memories down for you to share. Stories are my best gifts, and I don't give them lightly. It's not everyone that will wrap up their memories and pass them out to strangers. Sometimes I think we forget that. So in the spirit of the season, I would suggest that if you have a chance, jot down your favorite Christmas memory in your journal so that other people can share in it. If you don't have an on-line journal , send it to me in an email, and I will put it up here. Who knows, maybe we can start a tradition. Speaking of traditions, that reminds me of a great holiday story…. My family has always kept a tradition saying that my little brother and I were allowed to open one (and ONLY one) present from under the tree on Christmas Eve. This tradition was started so that we wouldn't stay up all night wondering what was in underneath all that wrapping paper, which would allow Santa Claus to get his work done faster (he only brings presents while you sleep), allowing him to go home earlier and get some rest. (My parents were surprisingly slick when it came to explaining the specific workings of Santa Claus, a fact I later realized should have tipped me off to the truth long before it actually did). As a result, my brother and I would spend our Christmas vacation days shaking presents so that we would be able to make the most informed decision on what would be the best toy to open when Christmas Eve finally came along. My parents would continually shoo us away from the Christmas tree and tell us, "Getting toys wasn't what the holiday was all about," but we were young, and didn't pay their warnings very much attention. This one particular year we had asked Santa Claus for gobs of Star Wars action figures and toys ("The Empire Strikes Back" had just come out), and in particular, we had asked for a toy version of the Imperial AT-AT, which if you aren't a fan of the trilogy is this large four-legged walking thing (sort of a cross between a horse and an armored car) that the Empire used to attack and destroy the Rebel Alliance's base on the Ice Planet of Hoth (like I said, we're huge fans). The toy version of this vehicle was HUGE, featured flashing lights for laser cannons, and came with it's own special driver action figure. Simply put, it was cooler than sliced bread. MUCH cooler. However, since we had asked for tons on Star Wars toys that year, we had developed several specific ground rules to follow when it came to picking out toys to open on Christmas Eve. These rules, if followed correctly would allow us to maximize our playtime: 1. Anything that felt like it was an action figure was not to be opened. We had specifically asked for several of the toys that looked like X-Wings, Snowspeeders, Bespin Cloud Cars and such, and each of these toys came with their own special "pilot" action figure. The Christmas Eve rule was very strict - ONE PRESENT ONLY. So if we were to open an action figure on Christmas Eve that went with a specific vehicle, we would not be able to play with that vehicle until the following morning - and really, what fun would it be to play with the Cloud Car Pilot without the Cloud Car? 2. Anything that was wrapped in a long rectangular box would not be touched until all of the available toys had been played with. Those boxes were used to wrap things like socks, sweaters, and underwear, and were therefore unacceptable for the Christmas Eve present. 3. My grandmother always gave the same present year after year after year (a hand-made, personalized tree ornament) and even though the effort she put into each ornament was special, these gifts carried no suspense, and were usually the very last things we opened. 4. Because we were brothers, we usually got the same gifts (or the same type of gifts). That way we avoided any "he got better stuff than me" problems. As a rule, we had to choose matching gifts to open on Christmas Eve -- that way, neither of us could get stuck with something crappy and have to suffer needlessly watching the other brother play with something cooler. As Christmas Eve grew closer, several presents appeared under the tree. Judging by their shape and size, my brother and I figured that we had hit the jackpot! By this point in our childhood, we had developed a keen instinct for figuring out what was inside of a present just by the weight of the package and the noise it made. However, there was one present for each of us that we simply couldn't figure out no matter how hard we tried. It was shaped like a pyramid…. This mystery present was really heavy despite being so small in our hands. When you felt along the edges of the wrapping paper you could clearly make out large lumps on the sides. Whatever was inside didn't make any noises when you shook it, and my parents had made sure to use extra tape while wrapping it so that we couldn't try that old "unwrap the corner" trick to take a peek at what was inside. When Christmas Eve came along and our parents told us to go pick a present to unwrap, we both picked our pyramids. I clearly remember my father asking us if we were sure we wanted to pick those, but by that point we were so curious as to what was inside there was no way we were going to pick anything else. We sat down in front of the tree and tore at the wrapping paper as fast as we could. And there inside were 8 "D" Cell batteries (We would later discover that the Batteries went inside the AT-AT toys which we received the next morning.) My father had a sly grin on his face. My mom had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Realizing what had just gone down, My brother and I demanded the chance to open another present, a real present, but it was too late. We had already made our choice, and that was that. They had exposed us for the greedy little beggars that we were, and in a masterful move that rivaled my brother's and my own plans to get the best possible present to play with, they had busted us. It took us a couple more years to fully understand the lesson that my parents were trying to teach us, but every time I think back on that memory of my parents and their strange sense of humor, I smile.   Merry Christmas, everyone.