Stoos Views

A Clear, Cold Night

Copyright © 2008 William Kevin Stoos

For me, Christmas has always been a clear, cold night.

I grew up in a small Midwestern town during the 50s and 60s. There was never a better place or time to grow up. Of that I was certain. And my perfect childhood was never more perfect than at Christmas. I had a Peter Billingsley, Christmas Story Christmas every year. I was that chubby little kid with the horn rimmed glasses and nerdy clothes with the three buckle snow boots who wished for and got the Red Ryder BB gun on his ninth Christmas. My mom always told me that “being poor” was the best thing she and Dad ever did for my brother and me. But if we were poor, I never knew it, for my childhood was a happy one. My folks knew how to keep Christmas well. They saved all year so that they could pile presents under the tree and make Christmas day a joyous time for two little blond haired boys who waited behind the bedroom door at 5:30 in the morning anxiously awaiting Dad’s  annual proclamation: “Well, it looks like Santa has been here again!”  And there on the floor beneath the magnificent Christmas tree, illuminating the house and warming the living room with the radiant heat of 500 lights, and adorned with glass balls and plastic icicles, lay the cap guns, rocking horses, Radio Flyer wagons, sleds, paint sets and stereoscopes, chemistry sets and board games that would provide hours of endless enjoyment for us. Each year my folks vowed to cut back, and each year they never did.

Christmas was a time of oyster stew, a sip of Mogen David wine that we got once a year to toast the season; of peppermint, wintergreen, cinnamon, bergamot, anise and clove oils wafting through the house as my mom boiled sugary water to make six flavors of the wonderful hard candy that we looked forward to each year. It was a time of pfeffernusse cookies, sandalwood incense that Dad loved to burn in celebration of the mystery of Christmas, and red and green candles that adorned the living room.  It was always a time of joy and merriment, of sights and sounds and fellowship with friends and family in a cozy little house that exuded the spirit of Christmas.

But Christmas did not end with the opening of gifts at o’ dark thirty in the morning. After the presents, it was off to church and then to Eddyville to Grandpa’s house for Christmas with the aunts, uncles and cousins.  At Grandpa’s there was yet another big tree, sitting on the old wooden floor in the sun room that smelled like a pine forest. Under the tree at Grandpa’s were bowls of apples, oranges, candies and of course, more presents for the kids.  Then it was Christmas dinner with pile of turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, sage dressing, rolls and salads. There was heavenly pecan, pumpkin or mince pie made with lard crust, cranberry tarts and cinnamon apples.  If they eat in Heaven, Christmas dinner at Grandpa’s is what the angels eat. After dinner, the adult males slept on the nearest couch or overstuffed chair, kids played and adult females got to pick up the mess. I did not understand the equities of the situation, but it was a yearly ritual re-enacted for decades at Grandpa’s house.

These magical times took place in the dead of winter. It was Christmas in Iowa, and I knew no other kind.  Every Christmas I ever remember was cold and white. I wanted snow for Christmas, and reveled in the thought of newly fallen snow for Christmas. I felt sorry for those in moderate climes who never knew the frosty bite of a windy December’s day, or the beauty of a newly-fallen snow that covered the world at night and reflected the silvery glow of the moon and the stars. I felt sorry for those who had unofficial Christmases without snow, and without cold. Christmas on the beach or Christmas in the desert simply was not Christmas. Christmas required snow and a clear, cold night with the stars up above. And each Christmas night, when the presents were boxed up, and the noise and the blessed confusion of a Christmas dinner subsided and the house grew quiet, each clear cold night, I repeated a private ritual that I had done since my childhood.

Late at night, when the rest of the world slept, I would step outside into that clear, cold night. In the magnificent cold stillness when all was calm and all was bright, I would stare up at the night sky, watch the stars, and imagine that first Christmas.  At the end of the day, all that remained and all that was important, was the wonderful mystery of His birth.

Watching the night sky each clear, cold Christmas night, I was connected in a profound and personal way to that first Christmas night which unfolded under this same sky.  I could see the same stars that shone on Him, that illuminated Bethlehem that first night; that led the Three Kings on their journey bringing the first Christmas gifts to the child, that lighted the paths of the shepherds in the hills who hurried down the rocky hillsides to see the source of the great commotion. I could see the same night sky that formed the backdrop for the hosts of angels who filled the sky to sing the first carols, heralding the birth of the Son of God.  This clear, cold sky is the thread that binds me to that first Christmas and to each Christmas thereafter. Earlier generations of believers doubtless looked at this same night sky and owned the mystery in times past just as I do now. This same sky is constant, peaceful and still. It binds me to all of the people living and dead who I loved the most and with whom I celebrated Christmases past. This sky fills me with wonder and allows me to own the mystery of the humble birth of the child who was sent to save us.  The one so mighty in stature yet so humble in birth, was born on such a night under this same sky.

So, at midnight, each Christmas from now until the end, I will step out into the clear, cold night and once more own this magnificent mystery that fills me with wonder and awe and takes me back to the best of times with the people I loved the most. I will once again stare with wonder and awe, and once again experience the true meaning of Christmas. For Christmas was, is, and always will be, a clear cold, night.

E.P.A. to Tax Cattle Exhaust

(Browner Proposes “Pay or Plug” System)

Copyright © 2008 William Kevin Stoos

“Senator John Thune, Republican of South Dakota, introduced legislation this week to block the EPA proposal to impose a tax on livestock emissions under the Clean Air Act.” December 17, 2008

In an effort to curb methane emissions from livestock who shamelessly pollute the air with their gaseous exhaust, endanger the ozone layer, melt the polar icecaps and raise the average ambient temperature of the plant by one one-thousandth of a degree per decade, the Environmental Protection Agency has suggested that the federal government impose a per head gas tax on cattle and other livestock. Senator John Thune from Stoos Views’ home state of South Dakota—who has led the fight against federal rules which would impose serious burdens on South Dakota ranchers– introduced legislation to block any such regulation in the future. Congressional action on such a measure is unlikely during the Christmas recess, according to Stoos Views’ informed sources. Until the E.P.A. implements such a rule, livestock remain free to pass gas without fear of federal intervention.

Recently, a Stoos Views Ag Division reporter interviewed Ben Dover, President of Citizens Against Livestock Flatulence (C.A.L.F.), to get his perspective on the proposed regulation, which is said to be under consideration by Obama’s new E.P.A. Administrator, Carol Browner. When asked about the regulation, Dover noted:

“I guess you can call it a different sort of gas tax—one that regulates methane gas emitted from the anal port of the livestock…gas that is literally ruining the planet. When you consider the hundreds of millions of cattle on the planet emitting gallons of methane every day, it is a wonder that we have any polar ice caps left at all. According to the inventor of the internet, Al Gore—world’s leading expert on the environment and gas bag expert who has studied cattle emissions for twenty years–at the present rate of bovine emission, the seas will rise twenty feet due to the melting of the polar icecap, the Brazilian Rain Forest will be reduced by fifty percent and the ozone layer will largely disappear by the year 2012. The main culprit is cattle emissions and the uncaring farmers and ranchers so intent on making a profit that they allow their livestock to wander around eating vegetation and passing gas all day—totally unregulated by the federal government. We regulate factories, we pass standards for vehicles—it is high time that we tax the ranchers and farmers who allow this insidious pollution to ruin our planet.” As he wiped a tear from his eye, Dover added, “The image of a baby polar bear floating away on the one remaining ice floe, calling for his mother, while some stupid cow out in the Midwest chews grass and fluffs methane gas all day, is unthinkable.”

When asked whether the proposed plan would place an unfair burden on the farmers and ranchers who feed the nation and increase the price of beef and pork, Dover suggested that Americans quit eating beef and pork. “Let them eat tofu!” he replied. “If everyone would just try it, in time they would like it. Soybeans are the answer to our problems. Once we tax beef and pork production out of existence, and force the public to resort to healthier foods like tofu, bean sprouts and sea weed—foods that don’t pollute the planet–we will all be healthier and the air will be cleaner.”

Carol Browner, newly appointed chief of the EPA, when asked by Stoos Views about the proposed regulation said:

“As federal bureaucrats, we are always looking for ways to tax Americans and regulate their lives. This is a good way to raise money, clean the air, and force Americans to change their diets—so it does a lot of good things. It is a win-win for the federal government and the consumer. After all, we know what’s best for the American people.”

When asked whether the new tax was the only option for the producers, she noted that the E.P.A. offers an alternative:

“They may opt out of the per head tax on livestock by using new device which we have developed at the agency. If the producer does not want to pay the tax, he has the option of purchasing a methane collection unit that employs a one-way rectal valve at the posterior end of the animal. It traps the methane as it is expelled, sealing it in an airtight bag which is then taken to a federally- approved collection point to be disposed of safely. These units may be purchased and installed by the producer, who would be audited by E.P.A. officials to ensure compliance. Of course, installing these collection devices at the posterior portal of each animal, collecting the gas, and trucking it to the federally- approved collection point is labor intensive, but over the long run it may be cheaper than the per head tax of $90 per year.”

Browner stressed that the federal government is serious about eliminating cattle gas. She noted that bovine flatulence ranks second only to auto emissions and slightly ahead of Democratic Congressional Caucus, when it comes to the release of noxious hot air into the atmosphere.

SENATOR DODD CALLS FOR HIS OWN RESIGNATION

(Calls for Frank to Resign Go Unanswered)

Copyright © 2008 William Kevin Stoos

            After calling for the resignation of GM Chairman and CEO Rick Wagoner and suggesting that Wagoner “move on,” and in a refreshing display of honesty rarely seen among politicians in Washington, Senator Chris Dodd–Chairman of the Senate Banking Committee–called for his own resignation today.

            In an exclusive interview with Stoos Views http://stoosviews.blogivists.com, Dodd mused:

            “You know, I got to thinking…after presiding over the Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac disasters–which cost the taxpayers billions and happened on my watch; after taking $133,900 in donations from Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac at the same time I was supposed to be monitoring them, what kind of hypocritical, incompetent SOB would I be if I did not resign myself?  After all, I am largely responsible for the current financial debacle facing this country. Therefore, to be morally consistent, I have, this day, called for my resignation as Chairman of the Senate Banking Committee. I expect to hear from myself by the end of the day, as to whether to submit and accept my resignation. As I told the Chairman of GM: It is time for new leadership.”

            Dodd continued:  “And to be perfectly consistent, my friend and partner in incompetence, Barney Frank, ranking Democrat on the House Financial Services Committee must likewise move on. After all, he told us that ‘these two entities, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, were not facing any kind of financial crisis.’ He received tens of thousands of dollars from these organizations too. Like me, he failed to monitor these institutions and was woefully incompetent as well.”

            Dodd went on to say that he will soon propose the creation of  another  bloated, expensive, and inept federal bureaucracy–“The Car Czar”–to oversee the billions of dollars that he and Frank intend to give the Big Three auto makers and to do that which Congress was hired to do–monitor the expenditure of public monies.  “What’s a few billion more,” Dodd remarked, “we can print as much money as we want!”  Dodd concluded that he also favors the creation of a second new federal bureaucracy, designed to oversee Members of Congress–“The Hypocrisy Czar.”

            Congressman Frank–who did not show up for work today in observance of national “Call in Gay Day” –could not be reached for comment. He is expected to admit his incompetence and resign as well.  Reportedly, no one in his office noticed he was gone.