Archive for December 2008

A Christmas Eve Mass to Remember

December 24, 2008

Okay, normally I don’t often re-hash old posts. 

But it’s 12:30 AM, Dec. 24,  and I’ll be too busy in the coming days to do any significant blogging.

So I’d like to re-post my favorite heart-warming Christmas Tale of the  Gitchi Manitou.

Just click on the link and enjoy. 

 And as Tiny Tim says:  

God help us!  Each and every one of us! 

(Or something like that!)  😉



My Most Memorable Christmas Presents: The Best and The Worst.

December 23, 2008

Worst:   Pajamas
When I was three, my Grandma made me some pajamas.

Needless to say, I was NOT impressed.   You know how three-year-old boys are:  they just want Toys!  Toys!  Toys!

It’s a bit vague for me to recall exactly what happened (perhaps Mom can remind me of the details).   But I remember I threw a major conniption-fit (and probably hurt my Grandma’s feelings in the process).

Even though this was forty years ago, I still feel bad about how I acted.  (But what can you say?  Toddlers can be little shits at times!)

This was Christmas Eve.   I recall going to bed naked, refusing to wear the pajamas.     And when I woke up,  I was furious to find that someone had put them on me while I slept.

Maybe Santa had done it, to prove a point.

Best:  Lego Train Set


Our family didn’t have much money when I was young.   We weren’t poor….we kids still had toys.   Just that we didn’t often get expensive toys.

But when I was in Grade 2, I was totally blown away Christmas morning when I found a Lego Train Set under the tree.    It included the tracks, locomotive, passenger car, box car and caboose.     And (be still my beating heart!) a battery-powered MOTOR!    Holy crap…the train actually worked!

Todays’ kids would say “Big Deal”.  But keep in mind, this was 1971, long before video games or home computers existed.   This train set was STATE-OF-THE-ART.   And Lego wasn’t cheap, either.   Even back then.  This was above and beyond what I ever would have expected.

Not only that, but it pretty much quadrupled my entire Lego inventory in one shot.    I spent entire summers playing with that Lego with my friends,  well into my teens.    And I still have much of that train set left (among the bits and pieces with the rest of my Lego collection) .

Best:  Matchbox Racing Car Transporter

racing-car-transporterThis was in ’66 or ’67, pre-dating Hotwheels.   I was two or three.    Matchbox cars were all the rage.   I wanted a King-Size Matchbox Racing Car Transporter.    I had seen it in the Matchbox Catalog   This was basically a large green Matchbox toy, big enough to transport two other smaller racing cars.

This was a modest gift.   By todays’ standards, it’d be the equivalent of a $20.  But at that point in my life, that’s all I wanted, more than anything in the whole world.

Well, I GOT the truck.  And I was thrilled.    And it was big and green (my favorite color), just like in the catalog.   I played with it for years and years, again, into my teen years.     I still have the Racing Car Transporter.   The paint’s chipped, the plastic windows are half-broken, but it still works.   And I wont’ ever get rid of it.

Worst:  Sticks and Stones


One Christmas, I think we kids musta been bad.    We were probably acting up more than usual that year.  Because we got STICKS and STONES for Christmas.  I was about ten.

Needless to say, my sister and I were quite pissed off.   My brother (who was around 5) didn’t’ seem to mind…he said he’d use the sticks to “fight the lions and tigers”.  (Or so was his story at the time).

(Now, don’t worry…we still got our REAL gifts that year).   Just that our folks made sure we got the Sticks and Stones too….to send a message.   To let us know we had been acting like little demon-spawn, but they were still magnanimous to give us our nice gifts, in spite of this.

I don’t know…did this traumatize me for life?    Probably not.   I’m a reasonably happy productive adult, and I didn’t turn out to be an axe murderer.   Not yet.

Best:   A Ski Vacation in Alberta


The one indulgence my parents did for themselves every year was to take one week off  and go skiing out West, just the two of them.   They’d been doing this since we were infants.

It was just something Mom and Dad did. And there was an unwritten rule that ski trips were just for the parents, no kids allowed.

But it was a good break for them.   (And for US, too!)   Because Grandma and Grandpa babysat us, and we got spoiled rotten while the folks were away.

Years later, when we were older, one Christmas morning  Mom and Dad announced that this year, we’d ALL be going on a ski trip together.

I couldn’t’ believe it…I had seen photos of the Canadian Rockies, and I had always wanted to go.   But I didn’t’ think we’d ever in a million years be able to afford to take the whole family.   At first I didn’t’ believe Mom and Dad.  And when I found out they weren’t’ kidding,  I was almost ready to cry with joy.

It was March when we did the actual trip.   I was sixteen, it was my first “big” ski hill, and it was everything I ever dreamed it would be.   And I’ve been coming back to the Rockies ever since.

Worst (and funniest):  Cologne


I didn’t actually get the Cologne….it was my brother in his early teen years. He got a big bottle of Polo the week before Christmas from a relative (who shall remain nameless).

Now, if there is ANYTHING a 14-year-old DOESN’T have any use for, is a bottle of Cologne.   Especially a smart-ass Spalpeen like my brother.     I remember him shaking his head, incredulously, and wondering what to do with his gift.

But between me studying Chemical Engineering at the time, and my brother and I feeding off each other, we came up with an EXCELLENT use for it.  You see, cologne has alcohol.  So when you spray it to a lighted match….well, you get the idea….(Kids, DON’T TRY this at home!).

Suffice to say, Spalpeen and I emptied most of the bottle, making one fire-ball after another  in the garage.  Though it never occurred to us that perhaps all that vaporized musk might cause OTHER things to smell.   Especially the Christmas Tree which Dad had just bought and had been storing in the garage, right next to us.

And what a beautiful tree it was. Dad always took his Christmas trees selection VERY seriously.   He’d spend a long time picking out the perfect one.   And that year, he had bought an especially expensive Balsam Fir, which he had been looking forward to decorating.   He wanted the house to smell like fresh pine needles.

Anyway, a few days later, long after my brother and I had forgotten about our pyromaniac escapades, Dad brought the tree into the house, and bellowed:

“Jesus Christ!    WHY does the tree STINK like perfume!?”.

For a second, Spalpeen and I looked at each other.  (Uh-ohhhh!).

Then (Pffft!), we both burst out laughing.

Poor Dad.  He was ready to burst a blood vessel.

We tried to say “Sorry…”

But we weren’t.   Not really.  🙂

You know you’ve experienced a true Canadian winter when…

December 19, 2008


You consider it “really cold” when the air burns your face and gives you ice cream headaches.    Or when it makes your eyes water and the tears freeze on your cheeks.

You admitted to scraping the frost off your windshield with your fingernails.   Or with a kitchen spatula.

Everyone crowds the ski hills the first week in December when it’s cold and the trails are barely covered and there are rocks everywhere.  But in late March, nobody goes any more because they’re sick of winter by then.   (Even though it’s sunny and warm and there’s more snow than ever).

Kids, metal poles,  and tongues.    (…Enough said!)

You’ve winter camped and have had to take a crap outside at minus 30C.    And it was much easier to deal with than doing the same thing in June, with the blackflies and mosquitoes.

Your car is still not completely defrosted, but like an idiot, you drive to work anyway.   Hunching over the wheel to peek through the 4 square inches of ice-free windshield forming over the dashboard vent.

November and December SUCK, because it’s dark outside when you leave the house to go to work.   And it’s dark outside when you leave work to come home.

You can’t see through your dirty windshield because you’ve run out of wiper fluid and it’s 20 miles to the next gas station.   You deliberately tailgate a car so that the road-spray moistens your windshield so you can wipe the salt off.

You’ve had frostbite at least once.  And from now on, for the rest of your life, that same spot on your body is the first to get frozen again.

You laugh at Toronto, because those wusses can’t handle snow (Once, they had to call THE ARMY to help dig them out after a storm!)  🙂

As a kid, you’ve spent an hour putting on your hockey gear just to skate on the (10 x 15) foot homemade rink in your back yard .

You’ve lost count at the times you’ve cursed the snow plows, who pile the snow onto your driveway just after you’ve finished shoveling.


If you’re a guy, you’ve peed your name in the snow. (Bonus points for dotting the “i”).

Your resistance to cold gives you a powerful sense of smug when you talk about Vancouver or Southern Ontario (“Oh, them….they’re in the BANANA belt!“)

You enjoy kicking “Smud” off your car (that brownish muddy ice that accumulates on your mud-flaps).

You know all about “getting your skis tuned”, “green wax”, “black ice”, “ice damming”, and “greasy roads”.

When you’re ice fishing, and it’s blowing frigid wind, amd you’re reaching into a bucket of ice-cold water, trying to stick a wiggling minnow on your hook with your bare hand…you suddenly realize that  being at the office ain’t so bad.


You’ve experienced the joys of following a snow-plow on the highway 20 mph.    And trying to pass him while the rock salt goes Ping! Ping! Ping! all over your paint job.

In the East, you’ve seen ski slopes get so icy, you can see the sun reflect off of trails.


You’ve literally ice-skated on the city streets, after a freezing rain storm.

You’ve actually had to DRIVE on highways like this (or try to).

Your hands are so cold,  you try to touch your pinky to your thumb, and you can’t.

You laugh whenever it snows south of the Mason-Dixon life.

In April, when the snow melts, you’re rewarded by four months’ worth of surprises that Rover left in the back yard.   Which are bleached white by now .


Small-Town Radio Trivia Challenge

December 18, 2008

(Note:   No, I’m NOT kidding, folks.    These are pretty close approximations of actual calls I heard on the local radio station!)



“Hello, you’re on the air.”

“Oh, Hi!  Brad!   How are you doing?”

“Guhhhhhh-REAT!…Who’s this?”

“It’s Uncle Ti-Boc….I’d like to pick dat question about music”

“Okay…music.    What musician was charged with tax evasion in 1973?”

“Ohhhh…I don’t know….Hmmm….(silence) was dat guy…..him…who…who….dat guy….let’s see….was it dat guy… JERRY LEWIS?”

“No, I’m sorry….it WASN’T Jerry Lewis.  He actually WASN’T a musician.  The answer is Chucky Berry…CHUCK BERRY”.

“Oh…yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah….DAT was da guy.  Yeah yeah yeah,  Chuck Berry.   Hokay….tank you.      Bye now.”

“Thank you for calling”


“Hello, you’re on the air.  Who is this?”

“It’s Jeanette.”

“I’m sorry, Jeanette, you already called in for Game Number One…you have to wait till Game Number Two begins, before you can call in again…”

“But…I didn’t get the question….For the game.   I had no question..(mumbles).  I was calling for the game, and you have to ask me something…but I didn’t get on…for the game question…”

“No, Jeanette…you already answered a question earlier this evening for game NUMBER ONE.   You have to wait till GAME NUMBER TWO starts, before you’re allowed to call in the second time”

“…But I called, for the game.  And the question, I didn’t get it..and I’m calling again…”

“No, Jeanette, we’re still on GAME NUMBER ONE.    YOU CAN”T CALL IN until GAME NUMBER TWO starts!

“Oh?  Really, but it’s the question I want to answer for the game”


“Oh, okay….Bye”.


“Hello, you’re on the air…who is this?”

“Jackie Carcajou.   Hi there, Brad, how are you?”

“Guhhhhhh-REAT!  Which question would you like?”

“I’ll take songs from the 1970’s”

“Okay…which singer sang “Withering Heights”

“Oh…Gee,  I dunno….I’ve never heard of dat one.”

“Oh, I know.   That’s an obcure song.   I know there’s a book called “Withering Heights”.  I’ve never read it.   But  I know the book’s called by that name. But not too many people know the song”

“Can you SING it for me…?”

“Uhhh…well, no, not really (perplexed).    Usually, the Deejay doesn’t SING on the air….But I’ll play it for you if you like. ”


“Okay…No more calls?  Going once…going twice.   No more calls?  ?  Okay…Game Number One is over.    I’m clearing the board, and it’s not time to start GAME NUMBER TWO.    Hello, you’re on the air…who is this?

“It’s Jeanette…how are you, Brad?

“Guhhhh-REAT!!!  Hi Jeanette….you’re ready for game number two now?

“Yes….I’ll take the donut.”

“Ahhh…yes, the “Donut” category.   Here’s the question:  What number of donuts to Americans eat every year?”

“Ohhh….(pause).  Oh (silence).  I don’t know…..”

“Would you like a multiple choice?”

“Ohhh..yes….give me the multiple choice”

“Okay…what number of donuts to Americans eat every year?  Is it (A) Ten billion?   (B) One billion?  (C) A million or (D) Five hundred thousand?

“I’ll take the third one”

“A million?  Is THAT your answer”.

“Yes, a million”

“No (sighing), that’s NOT the correct answer.    When you think of it, a million is pretty small.    There are what?   Four Hundred million people in the States…?  Don’t you think a million donuts for the whole year is a little bit low?

“Oh?   Okay.  Oh well, thank you, Bye.”


“Hello, you’re on the air.   Who is this?”

It’s Nadine   How are you Brad?”

“Guhhhhh-REAT!!   Which question cateogory do you want”

“I’ll pick…um….nursery rhymes.  That one there.”

“Okay…who was the person who “kissed the girls and made them cry”?  ”

“Ohhh….I know that.   It’s on the tip of my tongue.    Porgy…”

“Nadine, you’ll have to give me the full name….who kissed the girls and made them cry?”

“Ohh…(pause).   Oh….I’s that guy….Orgy….Porgy”

“No…Porgy is close….but I’ll need the full name”

“…Orgy-Porgy?  Is that it? “

“Sorry, it’s NOT Orgy-Porgy…you’ll need the FULL NAME.      Would you like to hear the multiple choice?”

Okayyyy….(pause) give me the multiple choice”.

“Okay…who kissed the girls and made them cry?   Was it:  (A)  Humpty-dumpty?  (B) Georgy-Porgy?  (C) The Easter Bunny? or (D) The Man in the Moon”

“Oh! That’s it…!!!  The third one, I think!    Georgy-Orgy!”

“Yes…you GOT IT!  The right answer is GEORGY-PORGY!   Congratulations, Nadine, you’re on the trivia board with ONE POINT”.



“Big City” Dining

December 16, 2008


It was my buddy’s 30th birthday last weekend, and his fiance organized a surprise party Peppershit’s Restaurant.   There were about 15 of us, and a table had been reserved in the back room, two weeks in advance.

I was looking forward to this.  Peppershit’s was in the “Big City” ( a town of about 20,000).   At $25-30 per entree, the food was a few steps above the typical Chicken Fingers/Club Sammitch menus I was normally used to.

And for those prices, I figured surely we’d be getting pretty decent service.   (SURELY it would be better than what I’ve had to put up with here in Splat Creek…)


It took 30 minutes for Stumbledorf the Waiter to take our order.   After 90 minutes we were still waiting for the main course.   Stumbledorf finally explained that the reason the food is taking so long, was that there was another large table ahead of us.  He had taken their food orders first.

Yeah, we know, we said.   They’re sitting right next to us.  They arrived AFTER we did!

Stumbledorf didn’t seem to be concerned.  He shrugged.  Oh well…

Can we at least have some more BREAD?  we asked.

Uh….you’ll have to wait, we’re out of bread, he informed us.

Un.  Freaking.  Believable.

As my Dad would have said:  “Never in my life…never in my WHOLE LIFE…have I ever seen a restaurant RUN OUT OF @#%$ BREAD!!”.

(…ONLY  in Small-Town Ontario!)

I think they actually went to Saskatchewan to thresh the wheat with which to make the flour.   Because it took another 20-30 minutes for the extra bread to arrive.

Two measly baskets, for 15 people .  And like a pack of wolves, we devoured them within minutes.   While we watched the other table get their main courses.

Time ground to a halt.  Our bellies started to bloat.

Some of us started to lose teeth (I think scurvy had set in).

I was half-tempted to go to Tim Horton’s across the street and bring back some donuts.   Meanwhile, the other table started to get their dessert.

Finally, the @#(%#* food arrived….TWO FREAKING HOURS after we had sat down.

I wanted to shovel the chow into my face as fast as I could, at that point, but seeing how this meal was going to be p-a-i-n-f-u-l-l-y s-l-o-w,  I made each and every morsel lasted as long as possible.

But some of the ladies hardly touched their plate.  I asked why..they said they had gotten past the point of being hungry,  that they didn’t  even want to eat anymore.

At least it took another hour for dessert to arrive, though.

At this point, the manager should have shown up.  Or the waiter could have tried to make things right (offering a discount, or a free dessert).  But no such luck.  Stumbledorf was nowhere to be seen.

In (typical of Small-Town Ontario) some people started APOLOGIZING for the bad service (“It’s not really the waiters’ fault…they just have too many people…“)

By now, the other table had not only finished eating.   Not only that, but they had paid their bill, and the staff had cleared their table, down to the bare wood.  The room was half empty.

Except for us.   We were stuck here on the Wreck of the Hesperus, eating the Meal of the Damned.

Though look on the bright side:  it only took another 30 minutes to get the bill.

People started to take their wallets out to pay, but Stumbledorf had already left the room again.

One of the women almost started weeping. (“I just want to LEEEEEEAVE!”)

To speed things up, we all ended up storming the front desk, to pay the bill ourselves.

The same woman blatantly told Stumbledorf:

“I’m not coming back…the service was awful”.

And (why am I not surprised?) the 22-year old was incredulous:

“You didn’t think my service was good?”.

“Well, NO..”, she said.   “It’s 9:30…the dinner took FOUR HOURS…!”

Stumbledorf took their credit card, and mumbled a half-assed apology.  If I didn’t’ know any better, he was actually pissed off at her, and couldn’t believe his ears.   He had NO IDEA why the customers were complaining.

On my bill, I had noticed they had forgotten to charge me $4.50 for a beer.   (Well, you know what?  Screw ’em!).

That was my small victory for the night.

On the way home, I stopped at McD’s Drive-Thru for a Quarter-Pounder  (which thankfully I got within  60 seconds).

At least you can depend on McD’s.

Not to mention, this extra protein helped rebuild my hunger-ravaged body, and gave me enough strength for the 45-minute drive home.

On the way, I listened to the local radio station.

And (I can’t make this up, folks), they played a public service ad, encouraging us to get out there and shop, and support the local businesses.

You have GOT to be shitting me.


Thus Endeth the Big City Fine Dining Experience.

Friar’s Best and Worst Christmas List

December 15, 2008


Best Christmas cartoons

  • A Charlie Brown Christmas.  This has become such an integral part of our culture that they even sell “Charlie Brown Christmas Trees“.
  • The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.  A timeless masterpiece combining the genius of Dr. Seuss, Chuck Jones and Boris Karlof.
  • Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. How can you go wrong with Burl Ives, misfit toys, Yukon Cornelius, Bumbles and Elf dentists?
  • The Polar Express .  This one will still be a favorite decades from now…I love those awesome scenes from Santa’s workshop.

Lamest Christmas cartoons

  • Frosty Returns (Shittiest.  Christmas Sequel.  Ever.)   It’s a far cry form the original Frosty.  Jimmy Durante is rolling over in his grave.
  • The Little Drummer Boy (I never liked that wuss, or his stupid song).  I felt sorry for the lamb that died, though.  Even though Baby Jesus later brought it back to life.
  • The Grinch Who Stole Christmas (the movie version).   Seriously.   WTF?    (Note to Hollywood:   Just because you CAN make feature movie based on a 25 minute cartoon, doesn’t mean you SHOULD.)

Christmas movies I have to see every year

  • National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (The exploding cat, the killer squirrel, and Chevy Chase’s Gigawatt Christmas lights are the best!)
  • A Trailer Park Boys Christmas (especially Ricky’s heart-warming speech in church!)  It brings tears to your eyes.  🙂
  • It’s a Wonderful Life  (goes without saying.)

I never could get this one right:

  • Who were the Three Kings?   (Balthazar…?   Moltar…?  Shabaz…?)

Religious Christmas carols that make me nostalgic and give me goosebumps

  • Hark the Herald Angels Sing
  • O Holy Night
  • O Come all Ye Faithful
  • Angles We Have Heard on High

Fun Christmas songs that put me in a good mood for the holidays

  • Grandma Got Run over by a Reindeer
  • Linus and Lucy’s Theme (from a Charlie Brown Christmas).    Actually, it’s worth buying the entire CD.
  • Blue Christmas (the Elvis Version, of course!)

Christmas carols that make me cringe and want to drive into oncoming traffic

  • The Little Drummer Boy (any version, any artist).  Parum-pah-pum DUMB!
  • Earl, Earl, the Christmas Squirrel. (No, I am NOT making this up).   “He is nuts for coconuts, and macadamias too…”.
  • Up On the Housetop (by the Jackson Five, sung by a pre-pubescent Michael).  You’ll want to gouge your eardrums out.

I never could understand this:

  • A virgin giving birth.   (…REALLY?)   Even as a kid, I sensed the priests didn’t like discussing this one.

New Christmas trends I’m not too crazy about

  • Christmas crap in the stores the day after Halloween.   (There oughta be a law:   As long as there are still leaves on the trees, NO CHRISTMAS merchadise!)
  • Political Correctness trying to remove all reference to the word “Christmas”, lest anyone get offended.  (Wah!)   I’m sorry, it’s Christmas…Deal with it!
  • Those cheap0 6-foot inflatable snow globes that have rotating Merry-Go-Rounds inside  (They’re abominations!…burn them!  BURN THEM!)
  • LED Christmas Lights.  (Yes, I know they save energy, but for crying out loud, my WATCH gives off more light!)

Gifts guaranteed to make a man happy

  • Food.
  • Toys (radio-controlled things, and/or  power tools)
  • S-E-X (Like, duh.)

The Golden Rule of what NOT to get a woman

  • Anything that can be plugged in (i.e. toaster ovens, irons, vacuum cleaners).   Unless you enjoy sleeping on the couch.

Gifts that will make your nephews love you (or their parents hate you)

  • Toy guns with obnoxious sound effects.
  • Toys that encourage aggression (i.e. foam swords and shields..BAM! BAM! BAM!)
  • Musical instruments (especially from the percussion group).
  • Chocolate anything (watch them gobble it down and get all wired).
  • Toys with 1,000 pieces that Daddy gets stuck putting together.

Lamest christmas gifts ever

  • Clothes (for any boy under 15).
  • Donations to a charity in your name. (Hey, if I’m not getting anything, fine.  But do you have to rub it in and remind me why?)
  • Fruit-cake (seriously…who ever actually EATS this shit?)
  • Oranges in the stocking.  (Hello…the year 1903 just called…they’d like their novelty gift idea back).
  • A lump of coal (seriously…has anyone actually ever received this?)

My favorite holiday foods

  • Egg Nog (Endorsed by the American Association of Cardiologists).
  • Anything to do with melted cheese and/or smoked salmon.
  • Turkey with stuffing (on Christmas Day only, NOT for the next  29 days of leftovers).  And don’t forget the mashed potatoes shaped into a volcano so you can pour in the gravy.
  • Chocolate ANYTHING. (Bonus points for Toblerone!)

My least favorite holiday foods

  • Vegetable trays with raw broccoli and raw cauliflower.  (Come ON…!!  That’s the equivalent of giving out toothbrushes on Halloween!)
  • Mincemeat pies (I have a phobia against squishy raisins in any food).
  • Turkey stuffing with RAISINS in it (see above).  Gagggggg.
  • Trifle.  (For a similar texture, why don’t I just take angel-food cake and pour water on it?)
  • Cheap Dollar-Store Christmas chocolate that tastes like wax.   (Watch out for melanine and lead!)

Most over-stated Christmas cliches

  • If only we’d act like it was Christmas all year long, instead of just one day a year“.  (Gee, I never heard THAT one before!)
  • At this time of year, let us not forget those less fortunate than us.” (As opposed to the OTHER 11.5 months?)
  • It’s better to give than to receive“. (Okay, tell you what.   YOU give, I’LL receive.  And we’ll compare notes afterward.)   🙂

Christmas Bears

December 12, 2008


This is a first for me.

I always take photos of the Bear during my travels, but I don’t believe he’s ever been in any photos around my house.

But it’s looking nice an Christmassy outside. (Yes!  I said the dreaded C-Word…sue me!)   🙂     And  couldn’t resist taking a photo of Junior Bear Bear on top of my Christmas Polar Bear.

The Polar Bear was a house-warming gift from my siblings when I moved into this house.    I had to wait 6 months to use him.

But once the Polar Bear is up, he stays up, all winter.   (And, er…well into June, if last year was any indication.)

Though you can see, I’ve already have to dig around him, so he wont’ get buried.   (Last year, he was, and he just looked like a glowing lump of snow.)  This year, I vow to not let that happen.

The photo doesn’t show it, but it’s quite nippy outside.    Going down to minus 25C overnight (that’s minus 13 F for my friends South of the Border).   Not totally unheard of for this time of year, but still, that’s quite cold for Mid-December.

Hmmm.   Might be a “green wax” ski day tomorrow.

Anyway, both bears seem to be enjoying it.