My dad had a way of getting the most out everything. He could take jam or peanut butter jar that—to any other mortal—would clearly be empty and he'd get more from it.
"Got any bread...crackers?" He'd add a bit of broken up bread and milk to that empty jar, and (like a prospector) dive in and mine more delicious gold from the glass container that only moments ago was headed for the trashbag under the sink.
And when he was done, that jar was EMPTY. CSI Pasadena could have found "no trace" of anything on the inside, glassy walls of that jar.
One of our dad's most notorious methods of "gettingn the most out of life" was his now-legendary treatment of toothepaste tubes. In his own skillfully-accomplished, flawlessly-executed technique he would scrape the handle of his tooth brush over the side of the tube. He could squeeze more toothe paste out of tube than Colgate had put in there at the factory.
I have inherited this habit. It's a game now. My goal is to flatten the tube so that I can see the color of the bathroom counter top through the tube.
One year, for Christmas, my brother and I visited several of our favorite model railroading shops to see if we could find a toy steam roller to give pop for his ongoing flattened tothepaste tube project.
He didn't do all these nutty behaviors because he lived through the "great depression." His family always had modest means so I am not sure the depression represented a big change in day-to-day life.
No, it was clear to all who knew him that my dad was going to get the most out of life, whatever it took to squueeze the last bit of goodness out of a day or a toothepaste tube.
During the Christmas holiday break it is tempting to try and "do it all." Some of "all" is well worth doing: squeezing the most out of life, singin EVERY VERSE of all the carols, lighting every candle, and putting ALL your change in the Salvation Army red bucket—every time. Some of life we don't squeeze enough like volunteering a few hours to help serve food, give folks a ride to the candle light service, or delivering a gift to a neighbor that you KNOW is not expecting one. (Homemade cookies should do nicely.)
Some of life we squeeze too much. I like red wine. But I love it most when I emjoy it slowly and in moderation. Some good folks in Napa have already squeezed all the goodness from the Zinfandel grapes. I can't squeeze any more goodness from a bottle except to share it with friends.
For Christmas, and all of life, think of my dad getting a little more jam from the jar and see where you can find more life.
Don't forget to squeeze a little out for others. Everyone needs a good squeeze now and then.
• • • • •
Here's a little Christmas treat that the enormously talented Kristen Chenoweth (Wicked, Pushing Daisies, West Wing) squeezed from here operatically-trained lungs on her Christmas album, A Lovely Way to Spend Christmas. Song title: Home on Christmas Day.
Download 10 Home On Christmas Day
They know the crucial role they play in their children’s lives. They know that nothing is more important than their children growing up with a fighting chance at life.
Posted by: Single Dad | Wednesday, 22 December 2010 at 09:46 PM