Finding the Kid on Christmas

Funny what memories you're reminded of when you're a parent reliving some of the very same memories with your own child. And so it was that Santa PinF and his little elf Sophie headed off in search of a Christmas tree two days before the big day. To remain true to the spirit and cognizant of moment are tough challenges these days with Sophia not in my everyday life. Still as chagringed as I may be towards the hipocracy and commercialism of Christmas I am totally able to place myself in the mindset of an 8 year-old, and press on in pursuit of delivering the moments, memories, and wonder of her Christmas.

I was speaking to my mother the other day and she commented how she remembers how myself and brothers would often go in search of a tree on Christmas eve when the bargaining power was in our favor. Inevitable we would always come home with the "best tree" ever, and at a fraction of the cost; right then I was back in that moment when the holiday held so much power and meaning. So as Sophia and I pulled up the North Pole tree sales on Route 1 in Juno Beach, the game was on. My rap was ready, my audience of one counting on me to "make it happen". To be honest, there weren't but maybe 25 trees left, but of those left, a quick pull of the needles revealed their freshness factor was acceptable.

The young guy came over to us as Sophia was excitedly picking this one and that one while I kept trying to sway her into the Charlie Brown special---she wasn't having it. The fella was about 25, and when he spoke he spoke a familiar and heavily accented English, in what I thought was of Russian origin. He started the negotiations, though I knew the date was in my favor. I had bought from this stand before usually in the first week of December, and the prices were always in the range of $50-$100. I asked how much Sophia's pick was? He responded in accented English $45.00, ouch. I changed tactics trying to connect on a different level than that of consumer asking him where he was from. "Bulgaria" he responded proudly, the irony not lost on me that in the land of so many latin cultures I was now dealing with an eastern European two days before Christmas.

I asked whether he was from the capitol Sofia. "Yes, you know Bulgaria"? I told him I had friends who owned a pizza parlor not but 1/2 mile south of his stand who are all Bulgarians, called Pizza Bella. His eyes widened and he asked me where this was, and as he did, I felt the price of the tree drop by 50% on the spot. I gave him directions and told him to tell them Tim sent him, he told me he was from Lake Placid New York, and that in the month he had been in Florida had met no one from Bulgaria, I told him to get ready, as the whole shop was "little Sofia". He asked me again what tree did I want? I acquiesced to my elf, Sophia had by now picked a 7 foot douglas fir, he yelled to the cashier, "Mike", pointed to Sophie and me, and said "twenty dollars"---SOLD. Sophia had just been given her lesson in people skills and connections. We got in the car and she said "papi, you talk to anyone". I knew what she meant, because I had grown up with a father exactly like I was in her eyes.

As we drove away eager to set up our tree, I thought of my dad, and remembered going with him to either Oak ave, or Guadios on Baltimore Pike as a kid and getting a tree with him and my brothers. His lines kept playing in my head, "Christmas is for kids", as I drifted in my thoughts I thought how trues it was, and how as a kid you can't understand NOT being excited about Christmas. But I thought also how the day-to-day cares, concerns, bills, and life get in the way. In that moment I found the kid in me again, and Sophia and I set about getting our shop on...picking up gifts for her Mami and her kitten. I was now feeling what she was, and what she wanted me to feel, and not a minute too soon as Christmas Eve was almost upon us.

Turns out it was a sweet tree, made even sweeter by the deal, and the personal connection of sending that wayward Bulgarian into a store full of countrymen. Christmas Eve arrived, and with it Sophia's Christmas Eve nativity mass where she was appearing in her reprised role of angel again. So it was as we headed off to St. Paul's last night, her little cousin from Venezuela, her mami and her papi. The mass was inspiring and exciting. The spirit has a way of filling even the most empty heart when you watch 50 children dressed as shepherds, sheep, angels and wise men all to the accompaniment of Christmas carols. Add the fact that your everyday angel is among them, and it's a powerfully emotional event, one that makes life worth living even more. These are the moments that will remain after the toys are gone, and child is herself an adult.

Afterwards, before Sophia was to leave for Boca for Christmas eve with her Venezuelan side of the family I took her and her cousin to a neighborhood that was like one my parents would take me to in Lansdowne many years ago. Over the top is the only way to describe it. The whole neighborhood aglow in lights, music floats, and excitement. Just then when I thought it couldn't get anymore excited "he" appeared, flying above a rooftop. Santa himself!! And as I played the role of father, I too was the child excitedly screeching and squealing in that backseat as we drove down the illuminated streets of Christmas wonder. It's kind of neat to be able to recognize life-long memory making moments-- something I was completely aware of in this moment.

Soon after the girls were off to their families, and I was again on my own for the night. But I knew the lessons of that mass, and the gaudy display of lights was going with each of them. And like my father would tell me, Chistmas is for kids--and even though he never said it-- I know now, it's for the kid in all of us.

The War On MisAdventures

Editor’s Note:
This report was painstakingly gathered from information submitted and disseminated here in at the Southern Command Surprise Headquarters. Due to the "fog of war" regarding many of the instances that were either reported or in some cases RECORDED, this commission needed time to present a chronological, not to mention factually correct representation of this bacchanal celebration of Chuck's 40th.


The week leading up the surprise wasn’t without multitudes of controversy.

For starters, Chuck was attempting to weasel his way out of a supposed filet mignon dinner invitation further proving his in-grate tendencies. The dinner a cover story and set up for the Ponderosa throw down trap that had already been set that was due to be sprung. Preferring instead to cavort with his drinking pals in Sligo’s, Chuck issued a series of emails, questioning CNN (to further be referred to as agent Soul Mate) as to the necessity of a "dinner" per se, and asking for an unconditional release of obligation. This of course sent shock waves through the planning coalition’s lines of communication. As acting field Commander I had to issue orders to our junior field Lieutenant CNN (Soul Mate) to calm down. She was beside herself, and threatening to cancel her fake dinner, feeling slighted for almost being stood up for a party she wasn’t really having anyway. I issued orders to "hold the line" and to take the offensive; as such an angry guilt laden retort was issued along with calls to the other planning officers in the field, (Colonel Flash and General Big Plow).

These stop gap measure proved effective and Chuck was once again humbled in to a New England-esque submission. Fire out. PinF could now concentrate on moving his remote base of operations (somewhere deep in South Florida) to the theatre of operations up north. He and his trusted, though diminutive assistant Sophia boarded their jet that would fly them "in country" to over see the campaign, by now dubbed "Operation Chuck’s Misadventurous 40Th Birthday bash at the Ponderosa". Unfortunately due to the cantankerous nature of the "enemy", he had managed to thoroughly piss off our trusted and battle tested General of the Ponderosa Matty "Big Plow" McCusker, completely calling into question whether we might have to scrap OCM40THBB.

Apparently Chuck still smarting from the transition into unemployment and possibly acting under the influence of several pints* had responded to Big Plow’s chain mail angrily and with malice—which in itself was disturbing enough. Unfortunately the enemy chose to rear his evil and demented side of his psyche and copy everyone on the emails original list. Essentially MofC was trying to make the Plow look bad---Chuck’s parry had worked, and general Plow took great umbrage. Again my leadership skills were called into question as the fragile "coalition" began to show signs of crumbling yet again through the vitriol behavior of our enemy from Vermont.

Emails were immediately issued from Headquarters before taking off from my secret location deep within the tropical interior of Florida. Again I was able to temper General Plow’s wrath, as he wanted to use the nuclear option, an option never before tabled in all our many, many, campaigns, yet incredibly Chuck had somehow managed through his North Korean approach of diplomacy and gratitude to illicit such a bitter reaction. All of this while we have many troops in the field already mobilizing and securing child care in order to attend. Meanwhile Lt. Gold Dust, (AKJN) had already managed to slip over the Pennsylvania/Delaware line and capture a fair amount of alcoholic libations necessary for our planned invasion of Chuck’s sentimentally vulnerable emotions. This was to be an all out blitzkrieg of Chuck’s senses, lucky for the coalition Lt. Gold Dust was able to fill the entire trunk of her assault vehicle and safely return to friendly territory.

Upon return she was met by Lt. CNN (SM) where the contraband was transferred to another assault vehicle for transport to the theatre of operations. By now I had made my way into theatre and the troops were hungry. Considering we were to bivouac at my Jr. Assistant’s grandmother’s house, it made sense to secure some nourishment at the venerable Apollo pizza. Chow out of the way, I made my way to the secure albeit, temporary headquarters in Media with which to wage my psychological warfare on none other than my literary nemesis MisadventureofChuck himself. Despite years of active duty planning, implementing, and building coalitions I could not have been prepared for what was to take place upon finishing my pizza. Into my before mentioned "secure" headquarters waltzed Colonel Flash, senior officer of enlightenment-- accompanied by none other than MofC himself!

My instinct told me this was psychological OP’s at their finest. Who better to dispense with this type of "mis"-information than the enlightened one him self? Colonel Flash adeptly delivered our quarry into my lair, allowing me some pre-assault assessments of my adversary. Fearing a breach in secrecy I proceeded with very general conversation, never once veering towards the obvious: that his age had caught up with his hair loss. Knowing full well that MofC is well versed in counter-intelligence and had previously issued a challenging edict that "he would not be taken by surprise", I cautiously assessed my New England nemesis. He seemed in the dark: was this by devious design? It was decided I would need to administer some "truth serum", I contacted some "agents" at a local front know as the Plumstead. Chuck was obviously clueless as to the worldwide network of agents and interrogation rooms the coalition has at its disposal for just this purpose.

After tucking my junior aide safely into her sleeping bag at Nana’s house, I ventured toward Colonel Flash’s assigned rendezvous point---Checkpoint Sligo. I made sure that I was not tailed, zig-zagging through the back alleys of Media like Chuck walking home after Super Sunday. I immediately set about plying Chuck full of the dreaded "black truth serum", known to the masses as Guiness stout. And I’m not talking about some ex "has been" boxer either. Rather, it was decided that after reviewing Chuck’s dossier that he had two glaring weaknesses. Well three actually, but PinF don’t roll that way. That left us with two vices with which to soften Chuck up with-- beer and Tequila. And so it was in the interest of gathering Intel that I embarked on all night session of pre-party debauchery.

Joining me early on in this mission completely unbeknownst to Chuck were double agents, and soldiers for the cause Lt.’s CNN (SM) and Gold Dust (AKJN), they were much too willing to get the drinks flowing and got myself and Chuck off to a good start before heading into the interrogation chamber located at the Plumstead. Luckily for the coalition there was no shortage of traitors for the cause, each participating in their own way, and all of them providing much need information. Most prominent among them would be "agent X", located in Annapolis, his identity is protected because he’s still in deep cover on "other OP’s" that as a coalition member I am not at liberty to divulge.

Also eager to turn state’s witness and collaborator was none other than the man known as TXXBAN CHXXK, again his name blacked out to protect his identity. Rounding out our list of turncoats willing to put their integrity, names and future relations with Chuck on the line were none other than DXDX BXXBX and her team operative NXXX BXXBX themselves in deep cover as well, due to their intimate complicity in this affair. In fact almost all of Chuck’s long list of "friends" were too happy to accommodate the coalition’s requests for secrecy and misinformation, MR NUXXER was a perfect example listing child care issues as a reason he may "mot make it to Sligo’s". All in all my undercover treachery and black OP’s proved completely unwarranted as Chuck blabbed on at the Plumstead, tequila after tequila softening the already easy target even more. Once again, this only further proved that my "Gordon Liddy" tactics weren’t even necessary with a target of such opportunity and innocence.

The plan was eventually put into motion on my "GO". General Plow eventually acquiesced on his initial reticence to let the troops go in. He knew as I did too, that we had flown in a secret weapon, one not used on the good people of Pennsylvania for some time—known only as the "KG" option. A man who’s power has never been truly gauged, though the patience with which it tries has often been reduced to shreds. To be safe we unleashed a counter-weapon, agent Soul Mate, she herself an untested, if not undeterred force of equal if not more power than "KG". And so it was a battle of the titans was unleashed on the good party people of Chuck’s 40th birthday. Destiny you say? Maybe. Fate? Possibly. Outcome? Never in doubt. Chuck was caught completely off guard.

I like to think it was all a well choreographed battle plan unleashed by the coalition for the purpose of leveling the cantankerous Chuck for once and for all. I think we succeeded. Judging by the Intel from all of those who were there to witness this battle, I think the war on Misadventure is being won, but I caution the good people of Media, we are in for a long war, and sacrifices will have to be made. We did our part for one night, and for this the coalition owes a debt of gratitude to all in attendance for their gritty determination to see Chuck attain 40.

Pizza, Trains, Chinatown and Chuck

It's coming. I know many are waiting for the literary version of the weekend. Still busy playing catch-up, so here's a montage of the w/end.

1.Sophie w/ cousin Grace

2. Sophia and Birthday boy Chuck

3. Sophia with her beloved Apollo pizza

4. Swarthmore College campus as viewed from train station

5. Lnasdown Station for a good friend far away.

6. LOVE statue Philly.

7. Media station.

8.

Crusty Memories

Though she resides 1100 miles to the south, Sophia is still very much a child of her father's hometown. Sophia is coming to Philadelphia with PinF. It was time, the fares were cheap and there's a winter chill in the air that allows us to wear items we wouldn't normally get to wear (scarves, gloves, hats, coats), and it is of course--Christmastime.

This visit will be an abbreviated version of our normal sojourn north. Our itinerary will of course include a visits to our favorite museums, eateries, and neighborhoods all unique to Philadelphia and beloved by Sophie. Oddly enough our first and most prized stop along the culture train will be Sophia's favorite pizzeria, Apollo's pizza in Media. This stop is scheduled to occur Friday night immediately upon arrival into Media; this has been the subject of several conversations while going over our "game plan", and we'll arrive with game faces on for sure.

In our visits to various local pizza establishments here in Florida, Sophia and me are always looking for that "one pizza", the one that both satisfies and qualifies as the "best". High on our list would be Pizza Bella, and Palm Beach Pizza Department; and though they're each close, as of yet we haven't yet found what Apollo's has -- the perfect crust. When PinF was a child-student of pizza starting out in Drexel Hill in the 70's, Friday night was always pizza night. For the five Paynter boys there was only one pizza-- California Style on Garrett Road, next door to O'Donnell's Irish pub.

This was the quintessential pizza. Whatever the hell "California" style was I'm still not sure, but there was many different styles then, "Drexel Hill" style was another. The point was, we Paynter boys devoured it - and fast. There was a hierarchy as anyone with siblings can attest---the older ones ate more, and invariably, faster. One of the classic "tricks" of doing so was to leave the "bones". By bones, I mean the crust. This way the eater was free to pounce on the next slice as the others was paralyzed by the unspoken rule of not taking another slice before completing the one you had.

Incredibly, much like my own parenting experience, Sophia's preferences are in direct contrast with my tactics back in the day. She loves the crust. She leaves no "soldier" behind when it comes to her pizza crust. Her preference has altered my style as well, as she now asks for my crust as well. She still eats the "body" of the pizza, but prefers the crust. I put this down to the lack of predators in her environment. In my day you had to be quick, crust was a time waster and of little taste value on Lasher Road. So as life is the greatest equalizer, I have a daughter and not a son, she loves the crust not the cheese.

Ironically maybe Sophia might have been the missing link at the table of pizza predators. She would've ruled the crust. Not that she doesn't already-- being the only child. So the countdown has begun. We have Apollo's Pizza, The Franklin Institute, the Reading Terminal, Chinatown, and hopefully the Christmas light show at Macy's. Ambitious I know, but we're used to squeezing all we can into what little time we have. We pack light, have a plan, and keep moving.