Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Santa is Alive and Well and Lives In California?
I am going to share with you my Dearbloggerfriend my great life reaffirming holiday story.
My daughter has become a great Beatles fan. She absolutely loves them. It started innocently enough when she was about three years of age when she first saw The Yellow Submarine. She loved it. And through her nine years on this earth, she has been continually inundated with music from the Beatles.
And last year something really hit a chord with my dear Scooter as she sat and watched A Hard Days Night. She sat mesmerized by these young boys from Liverpool, with their charming smiles, cute hairdos and close fraternity of the band that the film displayed. She loved the humour and the quirkiness of each band member. We have since followed it up with Help! and my daughter's love of Mr. Ringo Starr has been sealed. Sealed so solidly that I have been told that her first born son will be named Richard Starkey. I had always wondered what my first born grandson would be named and now I know.
She has also declared that she knows that someday she will meet Mr. Starr. She just knows she will. All of her friends are given wee antidotes about the Beatles and know how great of a drummer Ringo was. She knows of all the folklore and can pinpoint who is singing what. She can tell you all of the Beatle wives as well. All of her stuffed animals are given names of the Beatles and their crew.
So, for Christmas, when I saw on Ebay the Ringo Starr 'classic', Caveman, I knew I had a perfect stocking stuffer for my wee lass. I placed my bid and awaited the news of my winning the product.
And lo and behold I won!
I do not know if any of you have ever made a purchase through e-bay. It is pretty straight forward, you place your bid, you win or you lose and then you arrange for shipment costs and normally you pay for all through Paypal... Absolutely brilliant! No fuss, no muss and you did not have to leave your home for your purchase, it comes home to you.
Well, my dear seller, does not want his payment through the easy 'no fuss no muss' method of Paypal. He wants his payment through money order. It may seem simple enough for some, but in my neighbourhood, at Christmastime, proves to be a big hassle. A big hassle as people in my neighbourhood are from the olde country. People from my neighbourhood, live, live, for line-ups as it brings them back to the ways of the olde country. It brings them back to their beloved Poland. They are true vetrans of the waiting in line-ups. They bring sustenance.They have thermos' filled with tea and they have sausages. They know of a full day commitment when it comes to government and they expect it. They do not come to the post office for a small piddly package. They come to the post office with bundle buggies full of packages. And they pay for all these packages with bags of coins. Not rolled, as what are they paying the goverment for?
And of course, the post office employee takes all of this in good stride. She is a government employee. She will not be intimidated by huffy people in line. In fact, if there seems to be any rebellion in the ranks, it causes her to work at an even slower pace, seeming to crawl along in her tasks of the day. And all the while she speaks in Polish and moves in such a way, that her breathing causes irritation to a woman, who has to pick up her kid from school in two hours and a half and fears that she has not allowed enough time for this adventure.
Now, I am a perfectly reasonable person. I am a person who is patient and kind. But my neighbourhood post office truly sends me over the deep end. And the fact that I am there five weeks before Christmas and dealing with the crowds displays a love that is indeed great for my daughter. And to be told when I get to the front of the line that they do not take interact, to be told after waiting a lifetime, watching endless pennies being counted at the counter, to hearing all the gossip of various rhumnetoid remedies, to be told when I get to the front of the line that they do not take interact, can cause a perfectly reasonable person to go insane. Or dare I use the phrase 'POSTAL??"
But why do you not take interact? You took it two weeks ago?
What do you mean Nih? You did!
Nih Panyha. Zat was den, dis is now. Too buzy for dis interaaaact?
But you are not too busy to count out pennies? I am such a novice when it comes to line ups, such an upstart, such a whippersnapper.And with her 'Nih, and Nexxct!!!!" supended in the air she dismisses me and looks to the next prepared customer, Miss Fussy Pants, or Miss Pissy Pants aka me, turns and leaves, grumbling my displeasure for all the rest of my 'line up buddies' proletariat amusement.
I am so discouraged, well, that truly is not the word, I am so angry , yes, angry, furious even, that to go to my bank, and then go back to the post office takes more energy than I can expend. And since my gasket in brimming to explosion I decide to avoid my rage and storm home sputting and spewing about the injustice of it all.
A week passes and my mind has been preoccupied with all the other holiday festivities that have taken up my mind and brain limited activity. So much so, that I had utterly and completely forgotten about my purchase, my lack of payment or and the postal payment. That is until I get the phone call from my Ebay Buddy.
Ohhh my Gawd.i am so sorry... And I explain my mental obstacle problem with the post. And that I am truly embaressed for my tardiness/forgetfulness. I tell him all about my post office experience, and promise to battle it head on the following day.
I then tell him about my daughter and how much this is going to make her Christmas. I then go into the history of my daughter's love. How often does a kid sit through the entire Beatles Anthology. My daughter can imitate the way George versus John hold their perspective guitars, this poor man was given the whole 'Why Scooter loves the Beatles Speech' and all he was calling for was payment.
I get to the post office, I make my payment, I request Prioity Post and e-mail my E-Bay buddy the particulars. A week and a half later my payment arrives.Nothing like Priority Post! And with that he informs me that the package has been sent.
I write him a thank you note and another sincere apology for my tardiness. And to my surprise he writes me back.
He writes me back with a great story. He, too, loves the Beatles. He, too, can not get enough of them. He understands my family's love of the Beatles. He goes on in his story to tell me about a good friend of his and how she was given the opportunity to play on Sir Paul's latest album. He tells a story of how his good friend was read the riot act through the record label and told that she may not address SirPaul, may not talk about the Beatles or anything for that matter. He tells me how he made his dear friend feels rotten. As he tried guilting her into allowing him to at least drive her to the recording studio for this may be his only opportunity to get a glimpse of one of the fab four.She tells him no, but it huants her. It haunts her all the way through the drive to the studio and up to the kitchen where all the other musicians are making their tea. She then tells all the musician how over wrought with guilt she it and that her friend is such a huge fan and she let him down.
She then decides to prove her point by calling his answering machine and making the various musicians listen to his out going message which is The Beatles and Paul's voice screaming ONE TWO THREE FOOAAHHH!!!
And with that Sir Paul enters the room.The musicians point beyond this young woman's shoulders and she turns... And there she is with Sir Paul. There she is with the man she is supposed to not address, not allowed to talk to, and definitely not allowed to mention The Beatles with.
And it is more than she can bare, she screams' Sir Paul, Sir Paul, I know we are not allowed to talk about The Beatles, I know we are not allowed to talk to you, But Sir Paul, Sir Paul, I would be a horrible, horrible, friend if I did not ask you to listen to my friend's answering machine message!!!Please!!!'
And with that he took the phone from the young woman and pressed redial. He listened to my EBay buddy's outgoing message and left one of his very own Sir Paul greeting on my Ebay Buddy's machine.
Now, this story certainly warmed my heart at Christmas.It was such a sweet story. A story of friendship and it really did make me feel all warm and cozy inside. So, I wrote my e-bay buddy to tell him just that...I also let him know that the Caveman movie arrived and it was perfect.(In truth I forgot how truly bad it was but we fast forwarded the questionable parts.)
Well, My Ebay Buddy then emails me back saying that he has something special for my family. And with that he sent the message from SirPaul as well as bloopers of Beatles recording sessions from around the world. It should receive arrive for Christmas. And Merry Christmas to you and yours.
The CD arrived and I placed it in my husband's stocking along with the new CD called LOVE... But the CD of the Bloopers is what was the coveted gift over the holidays. It was played non stop. John trying to get Paul to laugh, Paul screaming 'Bloody Hell,' and George making up words to a song... Endless moments for the fans in my home.
I wrote my dear Ebay Buddy another thank you note to let him know how truly appreciated his gift was.... How utterly selfless and I will remember him always for it. As through a simple ebay purchase I got a bit of Christmas back. For Santa is alive and well and lives in California.
And you know....
When he opened my e-mail. He felt so very special. He did feel like Santa Claus. But he also added that he felt very surreal for as he opened his blackberry to my e-mail he was in Ringo Starr's home. He was asked to help his friend with a contract of decorating his home. He was in Ringo's house...
And Mr. Starr was on the phone in front of him and on the coffee table there was a Variety Book with Icons of the 21st century with the Beatles on the cover. And through his email he gave me wee tastes of what the home looked like for me to tell my daughter so that she may relive his moment.
He wrote me a wonderful note back saying that he would find a way to get a fan letter from my Scooter to Mr. Starr.
Now, Dear-BloggerFriend , it does not end there, as I have told this story of goodwill to all who were willing to listen. And I told this story to my friends at a big party I had over the holidays...
And one of the dad's at my party, gives me this mischievious smile and says that 'we are all elves.... And not only does Santa live in California but he can live in Canada too... 'And with that he has my attention...
His sister's best friend is married to Zachary Starkey. Ringo's son.
And so the beat goes on... Now, if only I could get my daughter into Thom Yorke!