We live out in the country - way out. Hay fields, small farms of tomatoes, cabbage, corn and cattle - rural America. So in the winter, when it gets cold out, many of the "little critters" start looking for a place to keep warm. Mice are small enough to find the "cracks" - I know you know what I'm talking about. Once Christmas, about a year after we moved into this house, we had the Christmas tree in what has become its traditional place in this house, the corner of the dining room toward the kitchen. A few days before Christmas, we started smelling what was unmistakeably the odor of a dead mouse. Each day it got stronger. The only thing we could surmise could be the cause was that a mouse had died in the wall beside the tree. But I could not imagine how the odor could be "that strong" through the wall. One evening, I decided that the source of the "perfume" had to be closer than the interior of the plaster wall. As I got down under the tree, the stench became much stronger. I started moving presents around when I hit ground zero. A few days earlier my wife had wrapped a present for me, and placed it under the tree. In curiosity, I picked it up to perform the customary "shake" and try to determine what it was. It was a rather heavy box, about the size and shape (and proper weight) to be the pac boots I wanted. After determining that I had gotten my wish, I simply "dropped" the box, probably from about waist height, onto the tree skirt below. Seems that a certain mouse must have been hiding from the commotion above, under the safety of the tree skirt. Perhaps he was either on his way to or on his way from getting a drink in the water of the tree stand. Either way, that heavy box of boots landed right on top of him, and promptly plowed him right into the carpet below! The "ooze" of his little decomposing body had soaked through the tree skirt and into the wrapping paper of my new pac boots! What were the chances of crushing a mouse with a box of pac boots? Well, it's happened once in the history of mankind anyway.

OK - so today, on the way home from work, I decided I was ready to get into the Christmas mood. It is, after all, December 16th - only a skosh more than a week until the big day! I had talked to my wife on the phone, and knew the whole rest of the family was in town shopping. I have asked for my usual nothing this year, not being in the mood to even want anything. You see, I've lived long enough as a dad in a single income family to know that any cash I get at Christmas gets conveniently spent on bills. So I don't exactly get excited about the prospects. But that's OK, as long as I can spend it on my wife, kids, parents, in-laws, neighbors, dogs, cat and goats - I keep telling myself I'm happy. I digress . . . So, I determined that when I got home, I was going to pop in some Mannheim Steamroller, Kenny G Christmas, and any other Christmas, crank up the base enough to vibrate the cabinet doors, fix myself some dinner (Rally's Philly Cheesesteak Cheeseburgers - refrigerated from the evening before) and put on my Christmas game face. I was stoked. As I drove into the driveway, I grabbed my stuff out of the car and rolled into the house. Put my stuff away and headed for the Bose Acoustic Wave Machine. As usual for my flavor of luck, not a single Christmas CD was to be found - anywhere. I looked through every CD beside the Bose. Mind you, these Christmas CD's L-I-V-E in the rack beside the Bose - right on the Kitchen table/counter/horizontal-pile-on-er. They are always there - without fail. Except this day. There I was. Now, instead of kicking back, with the NFL Network on the tube in front of me, and Chip Davis cranking from the kitchen, and me really starting to get into this Christmas thing - I was steamed. I looked high and low, even braving the upstairs landfill my sixteen year old daughter proudly calls her bedroom - to look for them in there. But they were nowhere to be found. Nowhere any normal, season greetings loving guy would look. About an hour later, my family all came home, and I ever so calmly asked my family (OK - so I was still steamed and I more or less bellowed it) "DOES ANYBODY KNOW WHERE ALL OF THE CHRISTMAS CD'S WENT?" My lovely wife calmly (yea, she's really that way) said she'd moved them and just forgot to put them back. So now, here I am. At the kitchen table/counter/horizontal-pile-on-er, writing this blog with Chip Davis and Kenny G doing their magic. Another holiday salvaged. I'm truly getting into the mood, as I see the joy of the kids coming to me and telling me what they got each other and hoping I'll slip and tell them what their siblings got them . . . Yea - It's Christmas and I'm ready!

Yesterday evening, a mechanic at my favorite tire/repair shop had his eight month pregnant girl friend coming to pick him up in his brand spanking new "to him" Pontiac Grand Am. Shinny and white. She was sitting at a red light about four blocks from the shop when B-A-M !!!! Here comes a young gal (20 something) and hits her from behind at about 45 mile per hour. Word has it that she was doing about 60 (10 over the speed limit) up until the last second when she looked up from the cell phone where she was texting a message and laid on the brakes! Needless to say, both cars are unrecognizable and the pregnant girlfriend is in the hospital. I'm not sure the status of the texting driver. Just about a year ago, an 18 year old gal drove left of center, hit an elderly couple head on and killed them both. She was texting a message. We hear more and more about young ladies having accidents while texting friends. I work on the campus of a University. You can't walk a block in town without seeing two or three gals texting. On more than one occasion, I've seen females trying to park a car (parallel in the town I'm in) while talking on the cell phone. You talk about a show . . . What is it with girls and phones! I'll tell you. Raising two boys and a girl, I have observed that today's teen and young adult feminine gender is ALL ABOUT relationships, social pecking order and about who is treating who, how. In other words, DRAMA! Maybe it's always been this way with girls, but the texting phenomenon is new (as it texting). It's a tool I believe this society and mankind (especially woman kind) can do without. Messaging in general seems to empower the fems to be even more absorbed in drama and relationships. MySpace, Facebook, Xanga (yea, Xanga's passe', but it's still out there), Google Chat, MySpace Messenger, Yahoo Messenger, Instant Messenger - you name it, the gals seem to dominate it. Is it that guys, as a rule, have better things to do? Football, sports in general, cars, hunting (still male dominated). Girls have TV shows and TEXTING. So, maybe it's not all their fault, but I still hate it. I am very anti-government in my life. But you know, I think I'll embrace anti-cell phone while driving laws. Maybe our cars will be better off for it!

I don't know why I do it. I bundle up and head out in the chill of an autumn November afternoon, headed into known impending doom - the agony of another Ohio Bobcats football loss. This time, the anticipated drubbing will be at the hands of the Bowling Green Falcons. I've owned four season tickets since I can remember. Section 105 right on the 45 yard line, two tickets in row 17 and two tickets in row 18. Peden Stadium is a modest but very appealing football venue. The revamping completed a couple of years ago has made it a very comfortable place to watch a college football game. In recent years, Ohio had done a lot to make every game a true event. In the past couple of years, they have somewhat curtailed the "special events" that take place at each game. Probably because of a combination of budget cuts and waining attendance (due to poor records). It's become a bit more routine - but it's really hard to say there is ever anything merely routine about the Marching 110 Band. That has always made every visit worth the drive. But today, on Parent's Day, the university was honoring our heroes in the armed services. The National Guard had a swearing in ceremony on the field (way cool) and before the game, Guard paratroopers led by Rufus, the Ohio Bobcat's mascot, dropped onto the field from the sky above. Well, this was not without technical glitch. For you see, about 300 feet above the Northwest corner stands, Rufus "lost his head". The mascot head of Rufus, the Attack Cat flew off the paratrooper, and came crashing down into the luckily sparsely populated stands. A brave fan fielded the bouncing head on one hop! Much to the approval of the crowd, the now headless (well, he had his human head) Rufus paratrooper made a pinpoint landing, despite the distraction, shrugged his shoulders in embarrassment, and made a hasty gallop the length of the field and into the tunnel out of sight. Two more normally clad troopers landed with the same pinpoint accuracy and somehow, everyone had a feeling that this would be the highlight of the afternoon . . . and it was. Bowling Green 28, Ohio University 3.

But you know what. My son Cody and I (the other two seats went unfilled this day) still had a great time. We boogied out after Ohio went down three TD's to our traditional "post game" eating spot, "Taco John's", and had a great time together. Even though the 'Cats might not have much of a team this year, I still want to thank Ohio University for making each game "an Event" for me and my family. My boys will soon be leaving home, as they are both seniors in H.S. this year. Soon, I'll only be purchasing the two seats in row 18, leaving row 17, hopefully, to some father and his son or daughter, so that they, too, can enjoy a tradition of the event that is Ohio Bobcat's football.

I guess I answered my original question with this post. I know exactly why I do it . . . .

This coming Wednesday will mark twenty-five years since I said "I do" to my wife, Wendy Michelle Bies Hannum. First, I have to tell you that the success in our marriage is much more because of her, than me. I always planned to be married to only one woman. And I still plan that (barring some catastrophic event). I have been blessed beyond my wildest dreams because of her. It is so easy to sit back, take a look at all of the material things I/we don't have, and become discontent. But when I take an honest look at the many folks around us, who have more in the way of material things, but disrupted family lives, I do not feel so bad any more. Because it's not the physical things that really matter. It's not at all like the old adage, "whoever dies with the most, wins!" It is, however, the fact that if you love someone, and that someone loves you, the other things just don't seem to matter so much. Whether you struggle with finances, health issues or whatever, taking it on stride for stride, hand in hand with the one you love, the one who has been there through the thick and the thin, truly "for better or worse", is priceless. I remember the day I proposed to her, just like it was yesterday. I will go to my grave remembering that day. When I was a kid, I remember praying for three things, every night for years. I prayed that I would find a good wife, have a good family, and be the quarterback for the Cleveland Browns. Well, two out of three ain't bad, and considering the record of the Browns over the past few years, I probably am much better of. Besides, if I'd have been QB for Cleveland, I'd probably never have met Wendy, I would probably not have my three beautiful children and I'd probably not be writhing this now. Considering everything, I'm OK with where I am. Life has brought many challenges. For various reasons, things have been challenging the past few years, but exciting things and options have been presenting themselves lately, so we are looking forward to what lies ahead. We just keep praying, and hand in hand living for the Lord and hand in hand taking on the challenges. I used to tease Wendy and tell her how lucky she was to have me, because I was the "perfect man for every woman". Well, the truth is, I am the luck one, because I truly have the perfect woman for me. She has to be the only woman on earth who could have endured twenty five years with me, and tell me she's looking forward to the next twenty five. Wendy, I love you, and I appreciate you and I, too, am looking forward to the next twenty five years. Happy Anniversary.