By Robert Dickson
I’m not sure when I became addicted to light. Maybe it was during the three years in the ’60s I spent imprisoned in an all-boys school in Massachusetts. Or maybe it was that year in the ‘70s that Vicky and I spent in Chicago. The temperature on the sign near the Sweetheart Cup plant where I masqueraded as engineer read 12 below more than once that winter.
My favorite bumper sticker back then was the one that declared “The University of Chicago: proof that Hell DOES freeze over.â€
I’m pondering all this on the Winter Solstice, and I’ve just watched the countdown to 12:47 p.m. Eastern Standard Time, or 17:47 Greenwich Mean Time, if you prefer. That’s the time locally that the sun reached the Tropic of Capricorn.
Some folks (well, actually a lot) get all jacked up about the countdown to the new year. That’s a laugher to me. Heck, I can’t even stay awake for that non-event. The passing of the solstice? That’s in a class by itself. The days are now getting longer, feeding my craving. It’s the light, man.
Speaking of light, our neighbors Ginger and Giles loaded up the Honda, strapped the kayaks on top and headed for the panhandle of Florida last Friday. You may remember last Friday as the day that we had that delightful weather, with the perfect troika of snow, ice and rain. What a nice day to escape south, even if they were heading into the teeth of the front. Warmth lay ahead.
They’re off for a couple of weeks of camping and kayaking, and that green glow coming off me isn’t Christmas lights. Of course, last time they headed down that way their kayak was stolen off a beach while they were camped near Cedar Key. Probably some redneck named Bubba in his pickup truck…
I hope everyone was paying attention to what Margot Lester had to say about shopping local in last week’s Citizen. Margot not only cranks out our monthly ode to commercialism, she’s also an observer extraordinaire. This Shop Local thing is for real, folks, and it’s all about the quality of life we treasure.
I cringe a bit when I hear about companies and individuals foregoing holiday parties in order to save money. Someone’s not going to get paid when that happens, and then someone else isn’t either. The effect just continues to spread. While lots of us don’t have as much to spend as we did a few years ago, I suspect there are plenty in our government- insulated community who have nearly as much. If we’ve got money to spend, I’d say now’s the time. Many small businesses are teetering on the edge, trying to hold on until things get better. They need our help. Just try to imagine life without your favorite shop or restaurant. Shop local, indeed; but do it soon.
The in-laws from Maine are in transit to Carrboro even as I write this. Looks like they’ll spend an extra day in Philadelphia due to the big snow they just had up that way. That City of Brotherly Love stuff is real, I hope, for their sakes.
Vicky doesn’t often get to spend a holiday with her family, so I’m very pleased for her that they’re coming down. It’s not easy having several others in our not giant house with only one shower, but in this case it’s ohso- worth-it. Uncle Mark doesn’t smell THAT bad…
This season can be stressful for sure; but if you can keep your wits about you, the traditional gatherings of family and friends put that stress in perspective. And one tradition that really lowers my stress is the Hug.
As a kid, the thought of a big ol’ bear hug from a highly perfumed relative was just about at the bottom of my list. Yuck. I still don’t much care for the smelly part, but hugs have become way more than tolerable. Greeting that too-longabsent relative or friend with a good hug just seems, well, good – and over the holidays they’re in plentiful supply. So why not hug that sister or brother you still resent for some ridiculous reason? Aw, go on. You can do it.. . .
On the back page of this newspaper you’ll find our holiday greeting to you, our readers. Please take a moment to look at the cast of characters who come together every week to bring you this labor of love, aka The Carrboro Citizen. As is the case at many community newspapers, these folks are underpaid and overworked, but do their jobs with a smile and with fire in their bellies. If you get a chance, please tell them that you appreciate their efforts and their enthusiasm in bringing quality journalism to our community, ’cause it’s pretty obvious that you do. And I’ll just say thank you to all of you, for your readership and support. Have a great holiday and don’t forget to hug someone.
Robert Dickson is the publisher of The Carrboro Citizen.