Christmas 2023 New Year's Day 2024

By the time you read this column Christmas Day 2023 will have passed and the New Year will be upon us. I’ve seen many Christmases come and go in my time. And I must confess I’ve enjoyed them all. But it seems, with the passing of each year, I have to expend more energy and effort to ensure my Christmas experience is one of “good tidings and great joy.”

The good tidings are a given, but sustaining great joy throughout the Holidays takes some work. It seems there are mounting forces bent on “taking the wind out of your sails.”

In his marvelous book titled A Reason to Live, A Reason to Die, John Powel wrote in 1974, “The pulse and rhythm of human life has quickened so suddenly that all those who want to keep up must run.” And run we did! And we are still running…only faster - schedules to keep, deadlines to meet.

Charles E. Hummel wrote of “The Tyranny of the Urgent” when quoting a cotton mill manager who told him, “Your greatest danger is letting the urgent things crowd out the important.” We seem to be driven by what seems urgent at the expense of focusing on that which is truly meaningful. It is a constant battle.

The phrase “speed kills” has multiple applications. As I observe the lives of our children and grandchildren, I perceive the concept of “quiet time” is only a “pipe dream” for them – not a moment for reflection.

And then there are “things.” You’ve heard it said, “The best things in life are not things.”  John Fort Newton wrote, “In this materialistic world, if we are not careful, we will be domesticated right out of eternity.”

Someone else once said, “Trying to satisfy the longings of the human soul with things, is like trying to comfort a motherless child with a beautiful doll. Temporarily, the child might be distracted, but in the night, you can hear her crying for her mother.”

We make a great effort to accumulate things. We surround ourselves with things. “Keeping up with the Joneses” is a powerful, driving force. I’ve often wondered who the Joneses are trying to keep up with.

And then, there is our world. Christmas 2023 happened under the dark clouds of fighting in Israel and Gaza. And the war goes on in Ukraine. And some lives were forever changed by tornadoes and other tragedies here at home. With all the good going on in our world, there is still a lot of bad. It is incredibly easy to take your eyes off the Prize.

And then, too, there are people. I learned, after many years on the professional speaking circuit, that there are in this world, some people who were never meant to laugh. Maybe God made them that way. Or maybe, they decided to be that way. I’m not sure. But they are that way. And many of them don’t particularly enjoy Christmas. And that’s ok, if it stopped with them. But it seems they are determined to spoil Christmas for everybody who surrounds them. I’m not sure they are aware of how they siphon energy from others, but they do.

So here we are. I hope you made the necessary effort to enjoy, as the Beatles sang “a wonderful Christmas time.”

2024 looms ahead. It has all the potential of being your best year, yet. May you make it so.

Remember. The best is yet to come!

Copyright 2023 by Jack McCall

Savoring the Season

In my last column I wrote of savoring the moment. In psychology, savoring the moment refers to focusing your attention on the positive aspects of an experience. Every Christmas my thoughts take me back to happy times of long ago.

My brothers, my sister, and I were the offspring of exceptional parents. I will forever be grateful for our father’s goodness, and for our mother’s wisdom and mental and physical toughness. Both experienced disappointments in their childhood years. They saw to it that their disappointments would not be visited upon their children.

Most of my contemporaries (especially baby boomers who grew up on a farm) agree that we grew up in a golden age. In some ways it was an age of innocence. Our parents wanted their children to “have it better than they did.” And most of us did.

Although farm life in no way approached opulence, it was a good life. Christmases at Frank and Mary Helen McCall’s were simple. I never knew of my parent’s exchanging presents. When it came to gift giving their entire focus was on us.

That’s not to say Santa Claus failed to drop off a couple of my father’s favorites. Every year a sack of English walnuts could be found among the treats Old St. Nick left behind - and box of chocolate covered cherries – just for our dad.

My father would spend the winter eating those English walnuts. He would hold one in the palm of his hand, and using his big, pocket-knife as a hammer, he would crack open the shell. The sound was unmistakable. I recall that sound each Christmas.

In my father’s latter years when we found “he was hard to buy for” seems each of his children gave him a box of chocolate covered cherries. One year he got 5 boxes. He never complained.

I bought a box of chocolate covered cherries last week. I decided to eat one chocolate covered cherry every day until Christmas. And each time I do, I’ll think of him. And I will recall his bashful smile, and his big, working man’s hands, and his love for his family and his Lord.

Christmases don’t come anymore without my recalling the smell of cedar. Every Christmas my brothers and I searched the hills and fence rows for the perfect tree. There’s a line in a well-known Christmas song which refers to “a tree in the Grande Hotel, one in the park as well. The sturdy kind that doesn’t mind the snow.” We never found that kind of cedar tree. I often wondered how those cedar trees held up the bubble lights. And I suppose we never found one which was perfectly symmetrical. We just turned the bad side to the corner of the room. Then, we covered the blemishes with “icicles.” I haven’t seen a box of those silvery slivers of aluminum in years.

There weren’t many rules at our house on Christmas mornings of long ago. I recall drinking a 16 oz. Pepsi and enjoying a Mar’s candy bar before breakfast on many a Christmas morning. Of course, the Pepsi was over ice, and I can’t recall if the candy bar was a Milky Way, a Snickers, or a Three Musketeers.

I have already decided on Christmas morning 2023 I will have a 16 oz. Pepsi over ice and eat all three of the afore mentioned candy bars... before breakfast – just to be 10 again.

When I was a boy, I always had “a part” in the church Christmas play. There were shepherds and wise men, and of course, Mary and Joseph and the babe wrapped in swaddling cloth. At the end of the play, we all sang “Silent Night” (without music) and quietly slipped out into the night. Though, just a boy, I sensed something sacred and holy in those moments.

Some things you never forget.

Copyright 2023 by Jack McCall

Savoring the Moment

Have you ever had an experience, when it had passed, you wished you had been more “in the moment?”

The definition for “savor” reads like this: To enjoy food or an experience slowly, in order to enjoy it as much as possible. It seems we, in our fast-paced world, do nothing “slowly.” We order “fast food” fast, pay for it fast, and eat it fast.

I have vowed this holiday season to eat less food but enjoy what I do eat more. That means more careful selection, slower eating, and more thorough chewing. (The health experts say that is better for me.) And I have decided to spoil myself a bit. I’m going to concentrate more on the foods I really love, like dressing and gravy. (Not the Stove Top variety.) I think I will have a center-slice of country ham with red-eyed gravy. (That’s the second time I’ve mentioned gravy.) I may even have a foot-long chili dog. What ever I decide, I will enjoy it slowly and savor each bite.

And I will savor some memories. (Relive them slowly.) Many invariably take me back to the Brim Hollow. My maternal grandfather, Will Herod Brim, for all the years I knew him; ate two hard-boiled eggs at every meal. His routine never varied. After chopping his eggs up finely with a fork, he added a pat of yellow butter, and a little mayonnaise. Then, he salted and peppered to taste and mixed his simple concoction. Light bread toast (extra dry) or saltine crackers finished his feast. I will have my eggs that way a few times over the Holidays. And I will find myself seated at little kitchen table covered with red-checked oil cloth; and feel the heat from wood-burning cook stove; and recall the sparkle in my grandfather’s eyes.

I heard of an old man who was resting in a rocking chair on the front porch of a country store long ago. A drummer (That’s what they used to call salesmen.) stopped by and asked the old man what he was doing.

“I am participating in a lost art,” said the old man.

“And what might that be?” pressed the questioner.

“I’m just a’sittin’,” replied the old man. We might all prosper by practicing that lost art.

The Holidays give way to all types of gatherings - corporate parties, office parties, church dinners, Sunday school class Christmas get-to-gathers, family gatherings, to name a few. When I attend them, I always listen for the “buzz.” It’s the sound of people who really love each other and enjoy one another’s company. To be a part of such “community” is to be savored.

And there are times we get to spend, one-on-one, with life-long friends. It is vitally important when we are with those friends that we are really “with” them - that we express our deepest feelings. Moments with friends are to be savored as well.

Speaking of savoring moments, one of our soon-to-be teenager granddaughters was in a hurry to catch her ride as she was leaving our house one day last week. (They always seem to be in a hurry.) As she was dashing out of the door, she stopped suddenly and came back into the room. Then, without a word, she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. And just as suddenly, she was gone. But she left me with a moment to savor throughout the Holidays.

So, whatever you enjoy this Holiday season, whether it be food, or being with friends and family, or having your heart warmed by some unique experience, take time to savor.

May your days be MERRY and BRIGHT!

Copyright 2023 by Jack McCall

Expect the Unexpected

Life is full of surprises. I don’t know why we should be surprised.

I was in the delivery room when our first son was born. He came into the world red and wrinkly and icky and not very happy with the situation. Caught up in the wonder of human birth, I was not prepared when the attending nurse suddenly turned to me and said, “We’re going to let the father take him down to the nurse’s station and weigh him.” Then, she handed him to me. What a package! I held him closely as I walked to the nurse’s station. 8 lbs. 15 ¼ ounces. That was the first of many surprises he would afford me in the coming years.

My son, Joseph, and I have a modest cattle herd. Being old school, I prefer to check on them every day, but that is not always possible. The demands of my job make it almost impossible. Most of our calves come in the spring, usually in March and April. Occasionally, a few cows will “catch up” and calve in January or February. Last fall was especially busy, and I hardly checked on the cows at all. I must say I was surprised when I looked in on the cows in November to find 5 new baby calves! I concluded the herd bull must have been on the job. I have learned to expect the unexpected.

My brother, John, is becoming a master gardener. Access to the internet has opened up a whole new world of gardening ideas for him and daughter, Olivia. This year he planted late butter beans, squash, and tomatoes. He was anxious that the butter beans would “make” before frost, but they did thanks to some creative harvesting. He gave me a call a few days before the first frost to inform me green tomatoes were still available, but in jeopardy. I took him up on the offer.

I was surprised to find myself canning green tomato pickle on November 25, two days after Thanksgiving Day, 2023. Who would have thought it? Another surprise.

I received a call from the wife of a dear friend at 10:00 PM last Wednesday evening. He had been admitted to the hospital and was facing emergency surgery the next day. If I had been making a list of the healthiest people I knew within 10 years of my age, he would have been high on my list. If I had been making a list of my friends whose health might have been in jeopardy, he would have been close to last. It is the kind of surprise which brings you to your knees. We never know.

I have another friend who is in law enforcement. He’s been a police officer/detective, career type. One day he was waiting in the drive-up line at a fast-food establishment. A woman in front of him was taking an excruciatingly long time to place her order. He grew impatient. She continued to order. He became exasperated. Her ordering dragged on. Finally, she finished. He pulled forward to place his. At the “pay” window she, again, took extra time. He was at his wits end. She finally moved on. He stopped to pay.

“The lady in front of you paid for your lunch, sir!” said the young lady taking payment, cheerfully. “She said, ‘Have a nice day, and thanks for your service.’” Surprise, surprise!

I suggest to my friends to tuck away a 5 or a 10 or a 20 or even a 100-dollar bill in your wallet or purse, and look for opportunities to give it away this Holiday season. If you are going to be in on a surprise, let it be a pleasant one!

Copyright 2023 by Jack McCall  

Giving Thanks 2023

Well, it’s that time of year again. Time to pause and offer thanks. I think it’s important, from time to time, to enumerate the things for which one is thankful, especially at Thanksgiving. In the past I have suggested to my friends and readers to make a list of 25 or more. This year I have made my list several times. Each time I make a list it seems to grow.

As a speaker and writer, I see myself as a “reminder.” The Good Book says, “There is nothing new under the sun.” I have nothing new to offer, but I can remind people of things they already know.

So, here’s a list of things for which I am thankful. I hope it inspires you to make a list of your own.

I always begin my list with “Peace with God.” The old folks used to speak of “making peace.” My late mother used to say, “If, in this life, you miss that, you’ve missed it all.”

Family. I recently read a quote from Mother Teresa, “If you want to change the world, go home and love your family.” A young Hispanic father recently said to me, “Oh, sir, family is everything!” If you are part of a loving family, be thankful.

Freedom. I once heard it said, “If you have anything of value for which you did not sacrifice, someone else did.” As citizens of the United States of America, our freedom came at a great price. Be thankful for our freedom.

Health. You’ve heard it said, “If you have your health, you have everything.” Be thankful if you enjoy good health.

Over the past few weeks, I have experienced two cataract/lens surgeries. The improvement to my eyesight has been remarkable. My late mother was legally blind for the last ten years of her life. She would often say, “Of all the things I miss, I miss my sight most. I wish I could read my Bible.” If you can see well, be thankful.

People. I usually write down the names of teachers, friends, and mentors who have impacted my life most. Imagine where you might be without their influence. Offer thanks for them.

After making a list several times, your “Top 5”, or “Top 10” will naturally fall into place. That’s when you can let your imagination “run” or “freefall.”

Here goes.

I am thankful for country living, country sausage, country ham, country roads, country music, and for growing up in the “country.”

I am thankful for church family, Sunday school classes, the Holy Bible, and the Sunday school teacher I had long ago. (Her name was Johnnie Mae Denton.) 

I am thankful for running water, a climate-controlled home, a warm bed, electricity, and a good roof over my head.

I am grateful for life lessons I learned in the Brim Hollow and memories I will take with me until my time is up.

I am thankful for flannel shirts, comfortable boots, and warm coats.

I am thankful for Thanksgiving dinner along with turkey and all the trimmings.

I am thankful for Christmas music and Karen Carpenter.

I am thankful for cedar kindling, ricks of firewood, fireplaces, and smoking chimneys.

I am grateful for dependable vehicles, chainsaws with sharp blades, a good wood splitter, and a handy axe.

I am thankful for cows and calves, and enough hay for the winter.

When I was a boy, a certain preacher would visit our church at revival time. He was an old man. When called upon to pray (And I heard him pray many times.) he would always say at the ending of his prayer, “And thank you, Lord, that I woke up this morning and put my feet on the floor in a sound mind.” If you have all your marbles, be thankful.

And borrowing words from John Newton; if you have already come “through many dangers, toils, and snares,” give thanks.

May you be blessed with a grateful heart this Holiday Season.

Copyright 2023 by Jack McCall

All God's Creatures

I suppose I’ve always been a livestock man. I grew up with hogs, cattle, chickens, sheep, horses, mules, cats and dogs. Cattle and hogs were a feature on the farm where I spent my formative years. My grandfather had a small flock of sheep in the Brim hollow. Lest I forget, he also had a herd of goats. These were the old-fashioned goats – white goats that ate briars, bushes, small trees and ridded the hollow of rattlesnakes.

My father was a tobacco man and cared little for tending livestock. He found it a matter of necessity to keep critters around. It was good that cows had a way of taking care of themselves. He enjoyed growing and harvesting hay, but he found herd management more of a nuisance than a pleasure. He pretty much expected the hogs to take care of themselves as well. If my brother John had not come along and taken over the swine part of our farming operation, the results would have been meager. But, at age 13, John came to my father’s rescue.

In the 1960’s there were 4 John McCall’s residing on Route 2, Carthage, TN – John Alexander McCall, John A. McCall, Jr., John E. McCall, and John D. McCall. It became very confusing especially when my brother, John’s breeding hog business began to take off. Potential hog buyers from all over the southeast would contact telephone operators seeking John McCall’s number. To solve the problem, my brother changed his listing in the phone book to John “Pig” McCall. I can hear the telephone operator to this day saying, “I have a John “Pig” McCall.” To which the potential buyer would reply, “That’s him!” After all these years, my brother John is known as “Pigman.”

When each of my father’s sons reached the age of 13, he purchased for us a      “3-in-1” package. (A 3-in-1 is a cow with a calf with another one on the way.) That’s how we got in the cattle business. I well remember the first calf I sold from my 3 -in-1. He weighed 600 lbs. and brought $25.75 per hundred or $154.50. I thought I was rich!

In the years which followed I was allowed to grow a small herd as a part of my father’s larger herd. At one time I owned 10 cows. They put me through college.

When I was 16 Mr. Bobby Woodard hired me to clerk the livestock sale at Farmer’s Commission Co. in South Carthage, TN. That was my introduction to livestock marketing. After I left that job to attend the University of Tennessee, I became a part of the meats judging and the livestock judging teams at UT. That opened up a whole new world to this country boy. In my years at UT I took judging trips to Madison, WS, Chicago, Baltimore, Starkville, MS, Kansas City, Houston and a few places I have forgotten.

That experience prepared me to judge hog and cattle shows throughout the southeast.

Throughout the many years I have pulled calves, docked lambs, worked cattle, scaped hog pens, filled feeders, set up all night with sows giving birth, driven thousands of miles to hog shows, fed mules, dehorned calves, castrated pigs, and done hundreds of things tied to livestock management. I must say I have enjoyed it all.

I guess that’s why I hold on to small herd of cows. I could give them up and it would make my life a little easier. But something would be missing. Something, I suppose, which keeps me tied to the land…and its livestock.

Some things are worth holding on to.

Copyright 2023 by Jack McCall       

The Old Feed Barn

I spent many an hour in our old feed barn. To a boy it seemed vast in its size and expanse. I became intimately familiar with each stable and hallway. I  especially enjoyed the large barn loft which provided endless opportunities for exploring. But I suppose the old corn crib stands out most in my memory.

Situated on the west side of our barn it featured a 4’x4’ “window” all of 10 feet above ground level. It allowed a man, with corn scoop in hand, to stand on a wagon bed and “pitch” ear corn into the crib. The crib’s wooden floor lay two feet above ground. When the crib was filled to the window, it showcased a mountain of ear corn no less than 8 feet tall. As the crib filled with corn each fall, my father placed boards, each above the other, at the crib door to keep the corn from flowing out into the upper hallway. As the level of corn was reduced, the boards came down one at a time. Working your way through that door was challenging to say the least. It was important to avoid a corn avalanche.

A crib filled with ear corn had two best friends – barn cats and chicken snakes. My brothers and I were given strict instructions to leave the chicken snakes alone. They played an important role in keeping rodent numbers down. And any mice the snakes didn’t get, the barn cats did.

I had a silent arrangement with the chicken snakes – “You don’t bother me, I don’t bother you.” I will admit, though, it’s a bit unsettling to be sitting in a pile of shucks while shucking corn and happen upon a snake’s “shedding.” You knew the snake couldn’t be too far away.

Our feed barn always featured a goodly number of barn cats. My father encouraged their multiplying – more cats, fewer rats. Sometimes, to the cats’ delight, he provided them with a pan of warm cow’s milk. I’ve watched a throng of cats sit patiently in hopes of getting in on the cow’s milk. My father was skilled in the art of milking a cow. He could squeeze a cow’s tit and hit a cat’s mouth with a stream of milk all the way across barn hallway. To see a cat licking fresh warm milk off its face is a picture I will not soon forget.

I was often sent on a mission to find new egg nests in the mountain of square bales of hay stacked high in the barn loft. It seemed the hens preferred the higher elevations. The secret was to find the nests before they had been their too long. A nest filled with eggs (I’m talking two dozen or more.) was not always a good find, especially in the summer time. Good, fertile eggs could go bad pretty quickly. I learned to hold an egg up to my ear and shake it gently. A bad egg is a dead give-away. (They don’t teach these things in schools these days.)

Is there anything that smells worse than a rotten egg? I was sprayed in the face by a baby skunk one time. It was bad. It was nauseating. It was debilitating. But it didn’t make me want to lose by breakfast like the smell of a rotten egg.

A feed barn presented the perfect setting for a corn cob battle. The corn crib provided an ample supply of ammunition, and there were plenty of places to hide and stage forays.

I remember one particularly heated battle involving the Ellenburg brothers. That day, I got hit in the head with a wet corn cob. I found out that a wet corn cob gathered much more velocity than a dry one. The battle went back and forth until someone discovered a nest of rotten eggs. I was the first casualty.

That brought the corn cob battle to a screeching halt!

Copyright 2023 by Jack McCall

Trinkets or Treasures

You’ve probably read or heard according to the latest estimates Americans spent $12.1 billion dollars on Halloween this year. That’s right $12.1 billion…on Halloween. I suppose the big winners were retailers, candy manufacturers, and the American Dental Association. That is a mind-boggling statistic. Let me say it again - $12.1 billion.

$12.1 billion dollars spent on candy, costumes, parties, and decorations celebrating ghosts, goblins, skeletons, witches, werewolves, black cats and anything else darkness can conger up. And for all practical purposes it’s all over in a day. Except, of course, for all the candy which shall be sorted through, eaten, or thrown away. What a way to usher in the Holiday Season!

When I was a young man, an older friend (I thought he was old. He was probably no more than 50.) said to me, “Son, you think time passes quickly now, just wait until you get my age!” I should have taken his words more seriously.

What I have found is with each passing year time indeed seems to accelerate. For me this past October was a blur. Surely, November will not pass so quickly. By the time most of my readers read this column Thanksgiving will be less than 2 weeks away. Christmas will be right on its heels. Best we take a deep breath and make some plans.

There’s a not-so-old saying that goes like this: “If you are failing to plan, you’re planning to fail.”

I’m big on making Thanksgiving lists. Every year I encourage my friends and acquaintances to start a list well before Thanksgiving Day arrives. I suggest a list numbered 1 through 25 – a list of the things for which you are most thankful. This simple exercise will broaden your mind and expand your heart. Best you start on your list early. As the old folks use to say, “Thanksgiving Day will be here before you know it!”

Plan a few short visits this Holiday season. Go see someone who might be lonely. You don’t have to stay long. You don’t even have to take a gift. Your presence will be the present. And here’s a thought. Should you have lots of food left over after Thanksgiving dinner with family, load up a plate of food and share it with someone who has no family with whom to celebrate. When you get together with family, don’t forget to talk to the kids. Ask lots of questions. Kids are people, too.

When I was a kid our family celebrated Christmas on the Sunday after Christmas with my maternal grandmother’s family. It was a family group we only saw once each year. Every year my great-uncle Jack interviewed me. He always took the initiative. Sometime during the day, he would track me down for conversation. And every year he would refer to things we talked about the year before. I was some impressed by the interest he took in me. Over six decades have passed and I still remember.

If you start now, you have plenty of time to be creative in your gift giving. Put some thought into it. You’ve heard it said, “It’s the thought that counts.” It is the same way with choosing gifts. If you have to spend extra money to make a memory, do it. Thoughtful gift givers have learned the difference between trinkets and treasures.

And finally, this Holiday season stash an extra $5 or $10 or $20 or more in your purse or wallet and be on the lookout for persons to whom you might give it. If you look for the opportunity, it will present itself.  

Copyright 2023 by Jack McCall