Nothing But Love :: golf blogger

The Spirit of Christmas

I wasn't expecting to get a Christmas present much before next week ... maybe like early in the week if I make that old deal ... you know, the give-me-a-present-and-I'll-give-you-one ... probably won't work, but it might. But I was sayin' that I wasn't expecting to get a Christmas present, but I got one. A flashlight. A little flashlight. From James, my street friend.

Runs up to me. He's yelling, "Pops! Pops!" I didn't know he was calling me. How could he call me that. I'm not that fucking old. Pops ... shit ... better watch out who he's callin' "Pops." I'll pop him ... float like a butterfly, sting like a bee ... shit, that's from what, the '60's, goddammit. Fuck.

But how could I be upset when he says, "I gotchyuh sumpnn'" And he pulls a small flashlight from his pocket and smiles, "Merry Christmas." And I thank him; and he says, "Try it!" excited to see the result. I push the little black button and out of the business end erupts a beam of light. "See?" he asks. I say, as I push the switch back, "Yeah. Pretty cool. Thanks, James. Merry Christmas." And I offer him my hand, and we shake hands.

And he walks off, smiling. And I turn my little flashlight on and off. I catch myself smiling. And feeling pretty good. But I think not as good as James feels.