Jon the Christmas Hater

I have this friend who hates Christmas. When we walk through Wal-mart before Thanksgiving he tells me about how much he hates Christmas. It was after Thanksgiving when we were in McDonald's talking about it. He looked very out of place with the classic American burger, fry, and orange drink. He's not the traditional type really. I asked him if he hated Christmas. He said yes. I asked him why. He said it was annoying, cliche, and there are a bunch of greedy kids. Jon the Christmas Hater says that the gifts are just awful. He says that most people get gifts before the actual day anyway so what are we celebrating? He says that the kids get disappointed when they don't get what they want. I asked him if he didn't think that there were a lot of people that celebrated the right way. I think he thought that it was so. He had a sports page in front of him with Cam Newton on it and I thought he was going to give me a really clever analogy. He didn't. He wadded it up eventually I think. Jon the Christmas Hater feels that Christmas has become cliche. He really hates most of the Christmas music and all the terrible Hallmark movies. I said they were pretty fun to make fun of. He took another bite of his burger. He says he did however enjoy the family get-togethers. I said that how could you have those if you didn't have a holiday? He says we should change it to something else, like "go to grandmother's house day." I felt like a really good religious fellow for a second and asked him with a spice of drama if he would trade a "go to grandmother's house day" for the celebration of the birth of Christ. He took a sip of his orange drink and said he'd never use a lid again. I didn't deserve an answer I don't suppose. But he finally decided to give me one anyway. He said he thought the birth of Christ should be celebrated every day. I explained to him that if Christmas is already cliche once a year, everyday would be crush it. He asked me if breathing was cliche since we do that everyday, we both agreed that this was a pretty crummy comparison. But I did agree with him. I have a bad habit of trying to catch people in their words. I asked him if there was a perfect Christmas for him. He said that it would be better if he didn't get any gifts. You see his folks get him gifts and apparently there is nothing he can do about it.

I agree sometimes with Jon the Christmas Hater. He is one of my best friends you see? I even agree to a point on his Christmas theories. He is right about the cliches and the greed and commercialization. But I told him there is also an undeniable feeling to Christmas. Everyone feels it and it emerges through the dirt and refuse of our perversion of Christmas.

You know giving gifts seems like something selfish we've come up with. I don't think it is that way at all. After all, when Mordecai in the book of Esther was hosting his own little holiday he made this recommendation: "He told them to celebrate these days with feasting and gladness and by giving gifts of food to each other and presents to the poor." (9:22). Feasting, gladness, gifts to each other and to the poor. Of course it says food, in the King James it says "portions." Either way it's a gift. It's true a lot of us forget the giving to the poor. This is a tragedy. It seems like God cares an awful lot for the poor.

The world has created a lot of secular diversions from the meaning of Christmas. Jon the Christmas Hater doesn't like this at all. I don't either. They seem really irrelevant. Some of them are nice and give me a good feeling. This makes them seem really crafty and maybe sort of a trap. Now I feel like a jerk. But I agree with me.

There's a lot wrong with the way people celebrate Christmas. But there is more right about Christmas than any other time of year. It's like what John Greenleaf Whittier wrote:

Somehow, not only for Christmas,
But all the long year through,
The joy that you give to others,
Is the joy that comes back to you.
And the more you spend in blessing,
The poor and lonely and sad,
The more of your heart's possessing,
Returns to you glad.

Somehow not only for Christmas...The feeling is there. Smell it, taste it, hear it, see it, feel it. Give gifts to one another, but not so it is stressful and in excess. Don't leave the poor out of your merriment, for they haven't got it as good as you. Don't get caught up so much in other traditions that you forget what happened and why it is momentous.

(Oh and Jon the Christmas Hater isn't a modern day scrooge or anything. I imagine he agrees with the spirit of Christmas if not the materialistic mask of it. He is as good a Christ-follower and friend as you'll ever meet.)

Family

How thankful am I for my family. No one really likes to read about other people's families (except me). But how can I help but overflow with thanks for my wonderful family.

Dad: In the grand tradition of the Capps family, he is a classy fellow. A hard worker. He is smart which a lot of people don't know. I think he reads the newspaper a lot. He can tell you every single thing about the game of football and I think he the go-to guy for Crimson Tide trivia. I'm glad to get several of his genes. Like the affinity for the MAN persona. No room for sissies you know. He lives up to it. He is a gentleman of the old school. He picks on his family a lot. This can be funny or a nuisance. I never hear him say anything bad about someone and really mean it behind their back. In fact I think he finds it easier to compliment people behind them. He believes in smelling good and being well groomed and clean with pressed clothes and normally a tucked in shirt. He tries to read the Bible and serve the Lord. He even witnesses to people especially with his life really, but with words too. I've heard stories. He cooks really good and has a whole lot of practical knowledge.

Mom: She is a mother. She read the Bible to me all my life. Would you believe it. She is talented in a lot of ways though I think she might be blisteringly insecure. She knows sign language and she can make jewelry. I don't mean kid stuff but the real deal, it's very nice. She's a beautiful lady really and she prays a lot. I think that runs in her family. She can sing, not like a professional, but like a mother should. One of the best things she did is gave me good taste in movies and music and the like. I was puzzled when I was younger because she wouldn't let me watch certain television shows even though there was nothing wrong with them. The grand plan was to give me good taste, I'm very thankful for that. She can cook really well. She cooked for me my whole life. She has taken a lot of pictures which I like to look back at. She did a good job raising me.

Wes: He's my older brother and he was my imaginative counterpart growing up. Our playtime was foolish, but genius, sheltered but epic. He's a good peer to have around on account of he is a connoisseur of old movies. He leaves up to the practical Capps genes better than I and he looks more like a Capps but I am better looking so it is quite alright. He's been an alright brother.

Julia: She is my little sister and she takes after my mom a lot personally. She'll make a good hostess one day. We think alike sometimes and get sad in the same manner. I hope she'll be tough emotionally. She'll be ladylike. She is after all a Capps.

Grandmother: Actually my maternal great-grandmother. She was the third parent really. She gave me so much childhood. I love her a whole lot. She is a genius in keeping a house, she embraces the God-given role of a woman. She is a wonderful lady. She is always good natured and always laughing even though she's been through the worst. She is always thankful, always honest. Her house is old and beautiful. She owns so much history. I love to hear her stories. I can could pull volumes of fiction (except it would be true) from her. She is an incurable giver. She helped me memorize my phone number and address. She is unconquerable because she won't let anything get her down. Tough as nails. A beauty. My wonderful great-grandmother.

Pawpaw: My maternal great-grandfather. Literally the most intelligent man I've ever known. He only had a sixth grade education but he is pure genius. He is a master carpenter. He's built houses. He built all the furniture in his house nearly. He plants several gardens to this day (he is in his eighties). He has so much history in his head. His childhood was unimaginably difficult. He is weathered and I think that is beautiful. I wish he could write a book. He is brilliant.

Granddaddy: He is my maternal grandfather. He is smart and a hard worker. He is an incurable giver too. He is solid. He isn't wishy-washy I mean. He has good taste and likes a particular way of running things. He cares genuinely about people and is humble. He chews tobacco which probably isn't a good habit but I think it smells good. He looks very at home sitting at the beach. He reads just a whole lot of books, which, even though they are fiction must mean he is awfully intelligent. This shows up anyway. I like that he is calm and cool and under control. He's a good man.

Nana: This is my maternal grandmother. She, again, is an incurable giver. She seems to repulse at injustice and she believes in prayer to a fault (which is how much everyone should believe in it). She is diligent! If she starts a project she will normally work around the clock to finish it. She is thoughtful and very creative. She can design things and think up uses for things that you never thought would be of use at all. She is a hostess too probably so Julia must have gotten some of that. She's a leader I think too. I've seen first hand that she won't be pushed around or cheated.

Papa: My paternal grandfather. He is the classiest man I have ever known. You should see this man. Just one look at him and you might be convinced. Immaculate. He can cook. He's worked hard. He was a paratrooper. Airborne. He can cook like no man I've ever seen. His house is beautiful. He has a wife now. And a dog, which he named Shorty. He is complimentary and caring. He gives without want of return. He is loyal and tough as nails. He is a winner. Nothing but a winner. He has excellent taste. In decor and clothing. I don't know what to say except that he is the classiest man I know.

My Uncle Steve Robertson is a sold out man for God. He is very well read and intelligent and he stops at nothing. He's a missionary, he is married to my young and kind Aunt Dawn. My cousin Caleb is their first son and he is a great guy who appreciates things and is good to share time with. Briana is their daughter and she's just a little character, but a sweetheart. They are extraordinary and talented all.

My Uncle Charles Capps Jr. We call him Uncle Bubba, which is strange but familiar and I like it. He is a comedian for sure. He is clean at all times and immaculate as well. Class is another name of his. Clean cut you know. I think he is a great and kind and caring man who loves his family.

My Aunt Mary Hardin is a wonderful lady who is interested in what her younger family is interested in. She reads and likes good music I think. She is accepting and treats people with respect no matter where they are from or their background or anything. She is rare, she believes people are equal. I love her.

My Aunt Robbi is a Capps all over you know. She is always happy to see me, which makes me happy. She is married to my Uncle Stuart who is a clean funny guy. I think he's a whole lot of smart too and he loves his family. Admirable. Virginia is a potent young lady. She is going to do great things. I agree with her a lot more than I let on. Sarah is an actress and a dear young lady. She makes me happy.

I have a lot more family. If you are my family and you are reading this. Leave me a comment. I'll tell you how special you are and how much you mean to me. It is actually 12:02 right now. November 26, 2010. I was trying to get this in before Thanksgiving ended, but you know according to Washington who initiated the holiday, it is on the 26th. So...Happy Thanksgiving everyone. Praise God for the thing I am most thankful for. My family.

Happy=Healthy

Why is laughter better than a Tylenol? A hearty smile a suitable supplement? A pat on the back a viable vitamin? It makes us happy! In thinking, I have developed a wholly uninformed, unreasonable, silly idea (or ideal) that I completely believe.

So my great-grandfather is nearing his mid-eighties. He plants a garden every year. He is one of the most brilliant carpenters I've ever known. He can split wood better than a youth. I kid you not. His body is worn, but strong. He eats a slab of salt pork nearly every morning. I'm not saying he's in perfect health, but what has it hurt him?

I know a great deal of people who are calorie obsessive. They shun sugar, steer clear of salt and fats, and have created a potently profitable market for "health food." I don't know many of them that can claim better health than I. I am not really careful as to what I eat, albeit I'm very young. I eat plenty of salt and fat, I am a Coca-Cola man and those killer cannisters often make there way in my system, but I'd match myself to a great deal of people health-wise.

I believe the key might be: 1. Don't be a glutton. 2. Stay active. If you are doing these two things I don't see how you can go wrong. I certainly would not say that emptying a few packages of Oreo's a day is a intelligent diet or that making a pyramid with your used Cola cans would not harm you, but within reason, truly, eat what you want.

I think at times that if people constantly watch what they eat, they will be worse off than those who are happily healthy. If one eats what they like it will curb it. That's generally what I do. I eat what I want, and what I like to eat. If I didn't eat what I wanted to I would be missing a little joy in life and for what? I get joy out of trying different foods and I don't want to let the fact that they are unhealthy hold me back.

So, in short, my health philosophy is don't eat too much of what's bad (but by all means eat it) and stay active. Eat happy, eat healthy.

*If I am found dead of nutritional problems in a few years we will all no my theory was wrong. (Don't count on it). I certainly would not want to steer someone in the wrong direction health-wise, so take care in following this bit of direction.

Quote Commentary 15...Brennan Manning (The Mask)

When I was eight the impostor, or false self, was born as a defense against pain. The impostor within whispered, 'Brennan, don't ever be your real self anymore because nobody likes you as you are. Invent a new self that everybody will admire and nobody will know.'

Brennan Manning

I received this particular quote secondarily, by way of a book called "Wild at Heart" by John Eldridge, he was representing this concept in a negative light. In the context, Manning was also condemning this practice. However, when I saw it I instantly connected with it. It seems that that may just be what I have been doing for a very long time. Living the masquerade that is Mitch Capps. My Classical Ride has been a Classical Show. It's been a great act. But how long can you be something before you become that something? Perhaps this created me is the me I chose for myself, and therefore truly is...me.

I am familiar with the fact that from kindergarten on we have been lambasted into believing that we should "always be ourselves." Oh it's a noble idea and I'll be attacked if I attack it, but who decides who we are? We are divinely created and then let loose. Who decides? We know our environment plays a crucial role. The personalities we surround ourselves with are our borrowing grounds. Then of course we have some amount of innate self, I know that, but do we not choose? I ask you, do we not?

In trying out this idea on some friends I have been repeatedly assured that they like "the real Mitch." I have a problem with that promise because quite frankly, they've never seen the real Mitch. So admittedly, for some, they like the fake me. This chap they've been friends with, this joe that they break bread with, this mug that they've grown to associate with Mitch Capps, is not Mitch Capps at all, but a prolonged and prestigious act. That is who they like.

For some an air of indignance comes along with what they call a "lie." I see this as a double standard. This is the me that I like, this is the me that you like, essentially, this is a better Me.

At the same time there is a mystery about this "false self" that must be maintained at all times. You have to learn about this person, but keep him and the You behind the curtain out of mind and out of state. You are behind the wheel with this person. You are bottled up inside (this is obviously not for everyone). You are ostentatiously reserved. You are shyly social. You have secrets. Secrets so petty and trivial that people would pay out the nose to find them out, but you won't let them. And to tell you the truth, they don't want to know. They want to have their faith rewarded, they want to have a mystery to solve. They want the sensationalized, glamourized, theatrical, fun You.

And so you give it to them.

*Naturally one does not have to agree with these theories. Besides that, this theory is not applicable for everyone, one must work these things out for themselves, and that is precisely what I'm trying to do, I am not trying to lay down the law or the truth, but allow you to be a guest on my hunt.

Newspaper Article

By Emily Towns and Mitch Capps (Me). This was written for the high school newspaper. It remains unpublished, so I'll whip it out here.

"We ride through the traffic of a thousand sins each day. And as we ride, can we honestly say we don't run a few red lights ourselves? There is terror in the streets.
But before any of this happened, there existed a foreign government: paradise. Almighty God had laid out a spread for us so scrumptious we can not dare to envision it's taste, lest we understate it to the point of blasphemy. What a racket we had. But as it would happen there was an intruder. An intruder who must have been something of a mystic. For in his cunning he persuaded a perfectly clean pair of lips to wrap themselves with relish around a forbidden fruit.
Then everything changed.
Humanity was cursed to the dirt and sweat and sin that would begin to shape civilization forever. The world began to tear itself apart.
Cain killed his brother. The earth was flooded clean from violence and immorality, but the second batch proved as bad. Noah became a drunkard, Babel built itself higher in their arrogance, Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed in their sin, Abraham turned his back on his wife to save his skin--twice, with his son following suit, Jacob hijacked his brother's birthright, Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers and unsuccessfully seduced by Potiphar's wife. When God had had enough and laid down his commandments they were smashed by the sight of God's people worshiping a calf of gold. Sampson was shamed, a virgin daughter of Israel raped until death, medium's were consulted, Saul committed suicide, David committed adultery and murdered. Bael was esteemed, the prophet's of the Lord were killed, the priests married heathen wives.
The planet was in sad shape. A hero was coming...for a price.
It is recognized that this hero was of a divine nature. A painful metamorphosis had to be undergone. His motivation? That would be us. But not the 'us' that you find going to church, singing hymns, or with our nose in the Bible, oh no. The 'us' that you find wasting the blood he spent in saving our skins. The 'us' that on a regular basis spits in the face of salvation and sins anyway. He was going to enter a sin-wired body for this? He was going to mingle with the traitors, the thieves, and the liars for this?
He absolutely was, and He absolutely did. Why? Because we were His children, He loved us, and we needed Him."

On a related note, I was lying down beside a campfire recently and I got to thinking along the lines of the crucifixion and it got me to thinking what love was. I wonder what love is a lot and I often wonder if feelings have to be present or not. Then I wonder if Jesus felt love for us when he was going through all of this. I wonder if he didn't just do it because he loved us (whatever that means) and not because he felt a good feeling towards us that is often related to love, but because we were his kids and he had always known what love really was and its definition. It's a series of acts that are for someone else's benefit. So you know love isn't that fun a lot of the time. I wonder of most of it isn't tough stuff. I wonder if I've ever really acted in love. You wonder a lot of things lying by a campfire. You should give it a whirl.