From Today In Science History:

In 1958, the first known radio broadcast from outer space was transmitted. President Eisenhower's voice issued a Christmas greeting from a pre-recorded tape on a recorder aboard an orbiting space satellite. His full message was, "This is the President of the United States speaking. Through the marvels of scientific advance, my voice is coming to you from a satellite circling in outer space. My message is a simple one. Through this unique means I convey to you and all mankind America's wish for peace on earth and good will to men everywhere." The broadcast came from the first experimental satellite, Project SCORE, which had been launched two days earlier. The battery-operated 132 MHz all vacuum tubes transmitter had an 8-W output.

In celebration of the anniversary of the First Christmas Greeting From Space - although, as you may note, ole Ike was slacking-off on the keeping the reason for the season waaaaaaay back when. “Peace on earth and good will to men”…? Give me a break.

You know, it's rumored that Mamie wanted the White House cards to read "Keep X in Xmas".

Anyway, in celebration of the anniversary of the First Christmas Greeting From Space, I’d like to wander down memory lane with all of yous guys, reminiscing over a cup of egg nog (don’t spill any while you’re wandering…in fact, maybe we'd all better sit down) chatting about our own shared memories from past Christmases and/or holidays extending from winter solistice up to and including the Feast of the Three Kings. In fact, since I hail from coal region country, let's go all the way to January 7, the Russian Orthodox Christmas.

(I know. All this doesn’t have much to do with the First Christmas Greeting From Space, but this is a new celebration and I’m going to start the traditions.)

So, if you really know me - I mean, like really, like you’ve been close enough to smell my aftershave - why not add to the comments with one of your favorite holiday memories in which I was, oh, let’s say, somewhere in the house. It doesn’t have to be specifically “remember that time you and I painted the cat red and green”; a general “remember the party at Ralph's house when _____________ passed-out under the Christmas tree and a bunch of us painted him/her red and green.” Or, "remember that Christmas Eve up the pole line when we roped a deer and...."

If you don’t know me, feel free to make up a memory! Be creative!

Just keep it PG in case my mom reads this and can’t tell the real from the fake memories.

In fact, thinking about some of the possible real memories, let’s keep it PG all around.


Merry Christmas!


(And a nod to Bored Housewife from whom I shamelessly pinched this idea.)


Julie Pippert said...


My dahlink.

Do you remember the time we decided to go to Vegas and show those heathens the CHRIST in Christmas?

I really don't know exactly how it was that you ended up on that stage but I must say you held up that headdress marvelously well. I'm so impressed you only staggered once! And what was it? 25 pounds?

You always say you carry the weight of the world on you so I suppose that was nothing! And you did it all for Jesus! Not many have faith that strong!

I hope you never told anyone about that Faro dealer. It really, really wasn't what it seemed. He was being reborn, I swear by all that is holy.

I still miss Juan Pablo, but I miss Rosita more. Margarita makes up for it though. Vacuuming isn't half so bad with a little Jose. I make sure to say my thanks and blessing before each sip, I promise.

I can't really recall much beyond that, but I think we must have left a nice tip because Rosita still sends me a nice Christmas card. It's odd though, she includes little cut up pictures of you or me and an invoice? What's that about? You didn't make a benevolent pledge to her or anything did you?

Even if you did, somebody ought to tell her that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

When I reported back to the congregation, you'll be relieved to know that I mentioned the plethora of churches in Las Vegas and vehemently reassure them it was not a town that needed saving, at least not by me. At least not again.

Well, not at that hotel anyway. And that's my own decision, not due to any note I received from casino management.

You take care sugar and remember, there's lots more heathen towns we've yet to tackle.

Merry CHRISTmas (so there!)


Unknown said...

Remember that year that you came to SoCal to celebrate Christmas, and we ended up bar hopping with Dr. Laura and Dennis Rodman? Those two got pretty hot n' heavy under the mistletoe.... weird!

Momma Star said...

Remember that Christmas BC (before children, natch) when we didn't step foot in a toy store the entire season? No elbowing Suzy SUV out of the way for the Lego pirate ship. No standing in line at the mall for three and a half days to be overcharged for a picture of the screaming darlings on that old perv's lap. No hiding a flask in your purse to make it through Grandma's lecture oh how your unchurched heathen offspring will surely bring about the new world order?

Where was I? Oh yeah, remember when we had stomachs flat enough to wear clingy dry clean only dresses and we wore red to church on epiphany day?

Me neither, but I hear Lemony has pictures.

Anonymous said...

Driving down from Boston in a snowstorm w/ (then) Miss M-P C and Mr. J in that crappy little puke-colored Dodge Colt. (You were there in spirit, not in person.)

Drinking Boilo and Chets in your freezing cold kitchen in West Mahanoy Township (and you told me you lived in Frackville) w/ Mr. H and Miss K and trying to keep that damn beagle from barking in the middle of the night and waking up your father.

Your giant Christmas trees.

Giant 80's mens' haircuts squashed into wool hats.

Drinking Banker's Club Manhattans w/ a local insurance agent and his family.

Jim Wolfgang's malapropisms.

And kielbasa uber alles.

Anonymous said...


it wasn't exactly christmas eve or day and in the spirit of festivus I will bring up the time you scratched gigantic cat claw marks up both of my arms. That was fun. Oh yea, yous guys always had the biggest friggin tree that anyone could ever pull into a house. it was always the complete opposite of the Charlie Brown tree.

Anonymous said...

Miss K wonders : does four queens blended whiskey recall at some point, while drinking boilo and chets in the freezing cold kitchen in west mahoney township,that it would be a good plan to actually go and sing a carol or two to mom and pop. I think we were restrained. One year i woke up wrapped in a rug under the big-ass christmas tree and watched erveryone open their gifts and had some breakfast before joining my own family. That was festive.

Anonymous said...

Miss K:

Your memories are so deplictive.

The narrowly-avoided wasailing catastrophe I don't recall, but your holiday burrito impression rings a bell. (btw, who got to unwrap you?)

I must admit, it took me a while to ransack my memory at all. Like Crusty the Clown,"I remember learning to ride a bike, then pretty much nothing until right now."

See you at Lone Pine Farm next week for more boilo-induced amnesia? I hope they still have the same breakfast chef. He makes excellent creamed chipped beef. Plus, he's my ride home. (last to leave! woohoo!)

nadzent said...

Well...I can't say I remember anything horribly funny b'cuz as long as I've been a part of yous guys' family we have yet to spend a holiday togeher...why is that? Something we must fix - and when we do we will discuss the ramifications over Limonata and Vodka - or Boilo if you'd prefer, being the holidays and all. RU planning ot be at LP Farm for New Years this year (how's my code?)?

I'm sure I could make up someting really, really, good about Ms. G and Mr. T trekking up to the spring house that one year and coming down the next day with frostbit bits...but I wouldn't want to startle your mom or anything.

Cheers! And Happy Holidays to all y'all, as my cuz Steph would say.

anne said...

Some memories from the inside...

Pink plastic curlers that we had to sleep in. Ow!

Walking down the steps whilst being blinded by the home movie camera.

Waving and saying "Merry Christmas" to said movie camera...that didn't have a sound recording device.

Taking Grizzy to church.

Having you and dad take me to the emergency room on Christmas Day with a yule tide kidney infection.

Watching dad feed whisky to the relatives. And our friends.

Dad getting a cut on the bridge of his nose when he leaned into the Christmas balls hanging from the kitchen light. Who's idea was that anyway?

Riding with dad and George while bringing the biggest tree in the world home on top of the station wagon, along the windiest crazy country roads, after only a few drinks.

Breyer horses! All around!

Reid said...

Jozet, I'll always fondly remember the Christmas we wound up having to shoot our way out of that burning crackhouse over on the south side. I still can remember the whizzing of the bullets zipping past our ears as we kicked out the back door and sprinted behind the dumpster for cover.

Our breath came in gasps and gulps, trying desperately to refresh our exhausted, adrenaline-driven bodies. As I reloaded, you touched me gently on the shoulder and pointed to the sky. I looked up to see the North Star shining brightly, and you pointed out that there's no way the wandering kings from the Orient could have seen the star and rode all the way to Jerusalem in one night, and most likely they showed up when Jesus was 3-4 years old.

Good times, amigo.

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