Have you been good? Dec. 6, 2024

It is not the sound of reindeer hooves I hear on the roof these las few weeks ahead of Christmas. No Santa will shimmy down my chimney though I expect coal in the stocking I hang by the fireplace, Springsteen singing Santa Claus is Coming to Town, and asking if we’ve all be good little boys and girls, when I never have. We keep secret thoughts contained in our heads, dwelling on them, as if inspired by slightly spiked eggnog, needing Santa or one of his helpers to help us stagger home, when we want to go elsewhere and do such naughty thing, to a place we may never see, and with someone we can never do it with again, that all too familiar face we take out of the attic this time of year, a present, a physical memory of what once was.

email to Al Sullivan