Saturday, December 19, 2009
Yes, I also write children's stories.
This is a fun story to read at your Christmas party, especially if you have a lot of kids there. What you do is form a large circle or a couple smaller ones (depending on how many people you have) and you pass a small prize/gift of some sort around the circle (like some candy or a gift certificate or whatever). One person reads the story and every time you hear a 'right' you pass the prize one person to the right. Every time you hear a 'left' you pass it one person to the left. You also pass the prize when you hear words like "write" and "all right". The reader reads through the whole story and the person who ends up with the prize gets to keep it.
by Matt Burns
It was the night before Christmas and I was giddy as anything because Santa Claus was coming and I had asked for some really cool presents. I was particularly hoping to find a left-y pair of scissors in my stocking because I was left-handed and all I could find in the stores these days was things for right-handed people. I was convinced that the stores had all decided they didn’t like left-handed people and that made me feel very sad because, hey, I write with my left hand and I’m down-right proud of it, OK?
The clock struck ten and I realized it was probably time for me to get right into bed because it would be really bad if Santa came down the chimney and found me right there on the couch. He might get angry and not give me my left-handed pair of scissors. Maybe he’d be so furious that he’d actually have the nerve to give me a right-handed pair of scissors instead. No, I definitely didn’t want that to happen, so I figured I better get right to bed...and fast. But, first, I figured I better write Santa a quick note, reminding him that I am not a right-handed man, just in case he mistook me with another person somewhere out there who asked for a new pair of right-handed scissors. I also figured I’d tell him to go right ahead and help himself to some cookies in the kitchen that are located in the cabinet to the right of the refrigerator. Oh, and I’d also inform him that the milk was on the right side of the refrigerator, but give it a whiff first, as I may or may not have left it out for a about five hours straight earlier that day and it may have turned sour. Whoops.
So I went to write a quick note on a piece of paper, but I realized I had left the Christmas lights on and it wasn’t right to do that because the tree could catch fire and my Christmas would be ruined. So I went and shut the lights off and then finally went to write the note and then I had a glass of water and then I retired to my bed.
As you might expect, I didn’t fall right asleep because I was just so excited over the thought of waking up in the morning and finally owning my own pair of left-handed scissors. Oh, the thought of finally holding a left-handed pair of scissors in my left hand and cutting through all sorts of paper with my left hand...it was a thought that made my heart race with excitement.
After what seemed live ever, I fell into a deep sleep and dreamt about a world where left-handed people outnumbered right-handed people. Finally, the left-handed people could be left alone to appreciate the fact that God had made them left-handed. And the right-handed people could - for once - experience how it felt to be the oddballs of society. My dream then evolved into a scene where I made fun of the right-handed people. I knew this wasn’t right, but it made me feel good - after all these years of being ridiculed - to give these right handed people a taste of their own medicine.
Right before I was about to have another one of these awesome dreams I was suddenly awoken by a loud scream coming from somewhere in the right wing of my house.
“Oh the humanity! He left the fireplace roaring! Aaaaaaahhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh! Oh!”
I jumped right out of bed, ran right down the hallway and realized the noises were coming from the living room where I turned on the light and couldn’t believe what I saw:
It was Santa Claus, hopping around the living room, nursing his right leg in pain.
“Santa Claus!” I shouted. “Are you all right?”
“Does it look like I’m all right? You left the fireplace roaring and it burned my foot!”
Oh no. He was right. I HAD left the fireplace running. How stupid of me!
“I’m so sorry, Santa!” I shouted. “I completely forgot about the fireplace. I should’ve put the fire out but I was just so excited about you coming, I must have forgot!”
“Just fetch me some water, will you?” shouted Santa.
“Yes, right away, Sir!”
I made a quick right out of the living room and another right into the kitchen, grabbed a mop bucket from the right cabinet beneath the sink and filled it with some water. Then I ran right back into the living room:
“Here’s the water!”
“Ouch!” yelled Santa. Pour it on my right boot!”
I did what he told me to do, and the boot steamed uncontrollably.
“Oh, that’s better. That’s better,” he said as he took a seat on the couch to rest.
“Again, I’m so sorry, Santa.”
“Oh that’s all right.”
“Where does it hurt?”“
“My right foot. It’s probably got third-degree burns.”
“Your right foot?”
“I thought your boots were fire-resistant.”
“Oh, they used to be. But the economy’s been hitting us hard in the North Pole. I had to go with a cheaper pair of boots this year. They don’t protect me against fire.”
“That’s terrible. It’s all my fault!”
“Yeah, it probably is. There’s no way I can deliver what’s left of the presents tonight with my right foot in the shape it is.”
“Does this mean I’m not going to get my left-handed pair of scissors?”
“You’ll be lucky if you get a right-handed pair of scissors,” said Santa. “You’ve been a naughty boy, leaving the fireplace roaring like that.”
“Well, how can I make this wrong a right?”
“I’m afraid there’s no way to make the wrong a right. Unless...”
“Please tell me, dearest Santa.”
“Unless you deliver what’s left of the presents...yourself.”
“You mean...be Santa Claus...for the night?”
“I’m afraid it’s the only way.”
“Tell me Santa...If I do this for you...will I get my left-handed pair of scissors?”
“Yes, my son....I’ll probably throw in some left-y golf clubs and maybe a left-y hockey stick as well.”
“Really? You’d do that?”
“If you save Christmas for me I will give you all the left-handed products I can possibly think of.”
“All right! Awesome!” I exclaimed.
So I gave Santa a bathrobe that he could change into so I could put on his Santa suit and, within minutes, I found myself on the roof to my house, right in the back of Santa’s sleigh, holding the reins to his reindeer.
“Who are you?" shouted Rudolph from the front of the pack.
“Sorry fellas...Santa hurt his right foot in the fireplace and he left me to finish the job of delivering the presents to all the boys and girls around the world.”
“I don’t like the sound of this,” said Donner. “This doesn’t feel right at all!”
“Listen Donner, don’t give me any sass! I need your full cooperation tonight because I’ll be darned if I’m going to come home tomorrow and not have my own personal pair of left-handed scissors.”
“What do you mean?”
“Santa said the only way he would give me my own personal pair of left-handed scissors was if I made the wrong I did him a right. So I’m going to deliver all the presents tonight. All right? Sound good?”
“Whatever you say...I just want the children to be happy. That’s all.”
“Well, they will be, Donner. Nobody will be left without a present tomorrow morning if you follow my orders and play by my rules. OK?
“All right now. On Donner! On Blitzen! On Rudolph! On whatever your name is up there! Make a quick right off my roof and then go right and then take another right and then take a right out of my street and then take a left at the train bridge and then a right at the Deli and then a right and then another right and I think a quick right will get you to the Atlantic Ocean and what do you say we start our journey in London, shall we?”
“Right away, Santa!”
Needless to say, I was rather excited. I had never been to London before and I thought maybe they’d have more left-handed people there than in America. After all, Europeans drive on the left side of the road, so it appears as though the people there generally prefer left to right. Yes, it felt like Europe was the best place to start the night. It just felt right.
Although I was a bit rusty at first, I handled the sleigh rather well and we got to London in no time. I delivered a bunch of presents to all the little girls and boys and everybody was left happy the next morning. All right, I have to admit (and please don’t tell Santa) that I refused to deliver any right-handed pairs of scissors to the children who asked for them. These were naughty little children who more than likely made fun of left-handed children on a regular basis and they didn’t deserve to receive any presents, anyway.
But, yes, to make a long story short, all the presents were delivered on time and the next morning I was delighted to find a pair of left-handed scissors in my stocking. Finally I could start cutting up loads and loads of paper with my left-hand! Thanks, Santa! Right on!
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Since everybody else seems to be talking in statements these days, I guess I will too:
"I guess when a person like Tiger Woods is paid millions of dollars by a company to be a positive role model and sell products he is basically selling away his privacy. Consumers have a right to know that the spokesman for Nike or Gillette is a scumbag in his 'private life' because we buy these products with the thought in mind that Woods is somebody we look up to and whose opinion we trust. If we're denied information about the 'transgressions' in his private life, it's like false advertising."
-- Matt Burns