Before I continue the list thread (honestly, with this whole season of top/bottom lists, I'm surprised anybody would read this. Of course, not a lot of people have been reading, but still, somebody is anybody.) I just wanna talk about a few udder tings, specifically my boring Christmas.
Speaking of udders, my grandparents have a little ranch in northeastern Oklahoma. Three of the cows jumped the fence. Actually, I guess that may be a bit misleading. At least one of them's a bit bullish. So, I - along with three of my brothers - spent a good part of Christmas afternoon helping to guide them back inside. Not too hard. Keep my distance, stay behind them (way far behind. Even my rural-ignorance knows better than to stand behind a cow.) and ocassionally give them a one-man Mexican Stand-off. Good thing they're about as afraid of me as I am of them, because I'm smarter than them and can recognize their fear. Plus, they weigh - what - six times what I do. After we steered them in (get it? Steer? Yep, you're as much a lame as me) feeding time begins and Chuckie and I get to do our Brokeback Mountain jokes while Caleb is avoiding fresh dung while helping gramps move the cattle to feeding. (Some of them, unfortunately, were paralyzed by the stupid little dog who wanted to eat the rest of the feed. At this point, I wanted the cows to realize their weight.) I was quite shocked, however, during the feeding, at the sight of one tying to mount another. She was avoiding his lewd and inappropriate conduct. The stud wasn't getting the hint, however. Anyway, enough anthromorphologizing. This isn't March of the Penguins. I wasn't aware my grandparents had bulls. I guess it only makes sense. Nobody's really making money on this ranch, so you don't want to spend more money buying baby cows. Yet spotting cows' sex organs wasn't really how I planned to spend my Sunday afternoon.
Went back to my grandparent's house to watch the Bears stomp the Packers. Don't tell the rest of Chicago, but I like Favre. I feel sorry for him. I don't think it's his fault that the Packs suck. He'd threw multiple interceptions per game at the peak of his powers. Only now, there's no running game to keep him from throwing so many erroneous passes, and no receivers capable of understanding that he's gonna throw it up, they just need to be there. And, in this instance, he was pitted against the best defense in the league. But, hey, the Bears are in second place in the NFC (not last place as Sports Illustrated predicted four or five short months ago) with a first-round bye (which means we only have to win two games to make it to the big game). And I'm liking our chances with Grossman (aka Mr. Glass) opening up the offensive end of the field. I'm still saying the Super Bowl is within our grasp. Now, imagine winning SB's XX AND XL. Crazy! And no Fridge in sight. In any case, a great Christmas gift.
And speaking of great Christmas gifts, I've been wanting to do something about the weather recently. Especially since last year's tsunami and watching Hotel Rwanda, I've been restless and wanting to help those who truly are less fortunate. Add that to this sense of lethargic anti-consumerism that I've been talking about but hardly practicing and I decided that I was going to donate all gifts this year to World Vision. And, as may be imagined, that didn't go over so well with some members of my family. You know, I don't care so much. No, wait, I do. But this is what I came to the conclusion of, I'm gonna try that for the next year. Seriously. For all birthday gifts, I'm giving out gift donations to Red Cross, World Vision, One whatever other non-for-profit the recipient wants (within range of my conscience, of course). And I want the same thing for my birthday. I want people, instead of giving me gift certificates or other things I don't really need, to make out donations to people who need more than I - or just about anybody I know - need, people who are in real need, not this imaginary need most Westerners have for excess, but a tangible, physical, bodily need.