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Christmas

Suffer The Little Children

December 13, 2024 by Peg Leave a Comment

In the JPeg Osage Ranch Bunkhouse. Photo by Peg Redwine

Some of you know and remember I recently was sent via the National Judicial College to work with judges in the country of Georgia that is located where the border of the Old Spice Trail used to be. Peg and I had an interesting and fulfilling time there and whether we taught the Georgian people anything worthwhile, we learned a great deal. One very happy and useful thing we learned was Georgians celebrate two Christmases.

Because about half of the country dates the birth of Jesus using the Julian calendar, December 25th is Christmas for them. The other half recognizes the Gregorian calendar for the Nativity so they celebrate Christmas on January 07. The calendar established by Julius Caesar was gradually abandoned in most countries in favor of the calendar adopted by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582. Many, but not most, Christian churches still use the Julian date of December 25 for Christmas. Regardless, whatever one finds in the heavens (wise men indeed), it results in what every child dreams of, two Christmas mornings. As for me, as a family court judge and one-time family law attorney, I see two Christmases as a potential blessing. I suggest parents who cannot seem to put their children’s interests ahead of their own might be able to use both Christmas days.

Each of the various Christian sects may define Christmas and how it is celebrated a little differently.  But hope, love, joy and generosity are a part of every church’s Christmas doctrine. And because Christmas is rooted in the story of Jesus’ birth, children have always been the main focus for most people.  We might decry the commercialism of Christmas, but we recognize this is supposed to be the most special time for every child of every family. However, one thing that is more certain than the arrival of credit card bills in January is the special acrimony that raises its ugly head in court in the weeks leading up to Christmas; Advent, where is thy joy?

There is something about the season that should bring out the best in loving parents that can sometimes bring out the worst.  One sad statistic that Domestic Relations Courts can foretell with unerring accuracy is a sharp rise in divorced parents fighting over where and how their children will spend the Christmas holidays. One parent may want the children to spend every second of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with that parent and that parent’s family.  Another parent may want to control whether some new significant other can even be in the same house with the children.  Perhaps a parent will want to remove the children from the state for the entire holiday.  Parents may try to control every aspect of the other parent’s lifestyle when the children are with the ex-spouse.  Believe me, we have not skimmed the curdled milk off the top of the many permutations of how parents set out to ruin their children’s Christmas.

Of course, in most situations, if both parents simply applied their Christian principles to the sharing of their children, these destructive behaviors would disappear.  Unfortunately, there are some truly bad parents from whom children must be protected.  Fortunately, they are extremely rare.  For most situations, children are happier, healthier and more successful when both of their parents and both extended families are there to give love and support.

The Dutch philosopher, Benedict de Spinoza (1632-1677), posited that each human does, and should, strive to advance their own interests.  When the interests of two people collide, both people will achieve more of their desires if they compromise.  Spinoza believed that this pattern of competing self-interests is the basis of civilization. Instead of denying our own desires, we should recognize that we are more likely to achieve what we want if we assert our desires while accommodating others.

In Sunday School or when our parents were explaining why we could not have everything our own way, this was called The Golden Rule.  If you want justice, you should do justice.  If you want all of the toys, you must realize so do your siblings.  More importantly, you should learn that if you and your siblings fight over who should get one hundred percent of a toy, the toy may be destroyed by your fighting.

According to Spinoza and virtually every rational human since we began forming groups of humans, this is how societies are built and prosper.  Of course, societies and families collapse when people do not compromise and refuse to acknowledge the desires and needs of others. In other words, self-interest is not a bad thing.  It helps motivate us to advance as individuals and groups as long as we accommodate the self-interests of others.

So when parents of minor children no longer live together, it can make their children miserable, especially during Christmas, if one or both of their parents or members of the extended families demand to control one hundred percent of the children’s lives. Most states have addressed these issues by promulgating Parenting Time Guidelines.  These guidelines can be helpful as an ultimate fallback position, but the children can still be torn, confused, frustrated and angry.  The best guideline remains The Golden Rule.  If the parents would put themselves in the place of their children or the other parent or the other parent’s family, the one size fits all guidelines would not come into play.

As a family court judge who has from time to time seen the destructiveness caused by pride, jealousy, hurt feelings and stubbornness in domestic relations cases, I respectfully suggest that both parents are always happier if their children are happy. And my experience has been that children have a much happier Christmas if the people they love most, their parents, put the children’s interests first. Perhaps if we just all start using the Georgian Christmas dates both parents could be happy. On the other hand, maybe then they would just have another time to fight about.

There is no need to cut the children in half.  Recognition that one’s own self-interest will be advanced by accommodating the self-interest of others is all that is required. And, perhaps a quick reference to Matthew, Ch 18., vs. 1-5 might be of help before any discussion is held as to how the Christmas holidays should be arranged concerning the children. Merry Christmas!

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Filed Under: America, Authors, Christmas, Family, Gavel Gamut, Judicial, National Judicial College Tagged With: Benedict de Spinoza, children, generosity, Georgia, hope, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, joy, love, National Judicial College, The Golden Rule, two Christmases

The Good, The Bad, The Average

January 6, 2023 by Peg Leave a Comment

Is it an end or a beginning? A New Year of hope or a past year of regret? A harbinger of exciting new adventures or a specter of hovering doom? I guess one way of discerning whether we are going to gaily anticipate, as the tune says, “Oh, the good times are coming,” or gloomily dwell on, “I took the blows and did it my way,”  is to make an accounting of 2022. After all, if past is prologue, perhaps we can peer into the future by studying the past. But, as the sorceress Cassandra who was blessed by the gods with the gift of prophecy but also cursed because no one would believe her forecasts of coming disasters, we might see the freight train coming but ignore it anyway. Nuclear war anyone? Ah, well, let’s count some blessings and justify some bad choices from 2022.

I would say my number one blessing during 2022 is that I am not related to Harry and Meghan. When one has family like that, other bad relationships fade into royal oblivion. It’s not that my family is perfect; my older brother and my three older sisters still assume I cannot tie my shoes without their help. But let’s move on.

Photo by Diane Selch

The 2022 college football season was pretty much a bust. The Indiana University Hoosiers, of course, never disappoint because we never expect anything. However, the Oklahoma Sooners had better be rebuilding or else the whole apparatus is falling apart. And the Oklahoma State Cowboys looked more average than average can bear. Come on, Pokes, do something! Peg, not I, cares about the Purdue Boilermakers who got clobbered in their mediocre bowl game. As an IU alum I didn’t mind, but Peg’s two brothers are Purdue grads so she was upset. If 2023 is a rebuilding year, I just hope the crumbling Roman Coliseum is not the model our teams are emulating.

Speaking of disasters and rebuilding, we had two, that’s right two, water leaks in our cabin at JPeg Osage Ranch in 2022. One came from a clamp that slipped off of a water heater hose and the most recent, December 23, 2022 (Merry Christmas), was caused by a connection to the ice maker on the refrigerator. Did you, Gentle Reader, ever worry about your refrigerator attacking your home? Me neither. I’ve worked construction and made countless home repairs to everything from fountains to garden hoses and never once had to deal with a refrigerator water leak. Happy 2022 all’ya’all.

Now did anything good occur in 2022? You bet. Peg successfully rehabilitated after her hip replacement surgeries and I managed to learn about three chords on the guitar, although Peg will not countenance me trying to sing along as I strum. She claims my key changes are bad. What’s a key?

Well, I have revisited about all the chagrin I can stand and the 2022 bright spots are fading fast, so on to 2023. My predictions are mainly connected to Peg’s and my work in the Republic of Georgia that sits right on the Black Sea directly across from Ukraine and has Russia on it’s northern border. What could go wrong?

Putin, the Grinch who is trying to steal Ukraine and who already occupies 20% of Georgia, looms large in my reading of bird entrails. The only bright spot I see is our son Jim’s observations about Russian military equipment he fought against in the Iraq War, the Gulf War and briefly in Afghanistan. Jim says it was junk then and it’s junk now. Of course, even nuclear junk might ruin our whole day in 2023.

But I boldly foresee a world where Putin comes to his senses and Zelensky re-thinks his thirst for revenge. Both leaders will most likely end up accepting less than half a loaf of what they want. At least that’s my hopeful, if naive, bet.

Regardless, “When the dealing’s done and there’s time enough for counting” in 2023, I predict “Sunshine and lollipops”. Why not dwell on the positive? After all, Harry and Meghan will surely shut up sometime. But, until then as both King Lear and King Charles found out, “More sharper than a serpent’s tooth is a thankless child,” especially ones who are mistreated by allowing them to live in palaces and spend their time with sycophants such as Oprah.

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Filed Under: Christmas, Family, Football, Gavel Gamut, Indiana University, JPeg Osage Ranch, Oklahoma State University, World Events Tagged With: disasters and rebuilding, end or beginning, football, Gentle Reader, Harry and Meghan, Indiana University Hoosiers, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, JPeg Osage Ranch, King Charles, King Lear, New Year, Oklahoma Sooners, Oklahoma State Cowboys, Oprah, Purdue Boilermakers, Putin, thankless child, water leak, Zelensky

A Christmas Gift From Peg

December 27, 2022 by Peg Leave a Comment

Photo by Peg Redwine

Everyone we meet in the country of Georgia likes Peg. When we walk along the cobblestone streets or eat at one of the small and numerous restaurants Peg is frequently approached by complete strangers speaking a foreign language who manage to convey their goodwill toward her as they ignore me. I am used to it. I get it. I accept it. But the world does not know that Peg has a dark side that often involves misadventure for me.

I first noticed it years ago when we would go skiing and Peg would sweetly say something like, “Jim, that ski run really looks interesting. Why don’t you ski down first, then I can follow you?” I fell for this ploy several times and paid the price. She, of course, never followed after she would see me wipe out as she feigned concern while secretly chortling at my naïveté.

My misogynistic side wonders if Peg’s enjoyment of my misfortunes is unique to her or if it is a more general wifely trait. Those of you who are involved in the connubial bliss of marriage can reflect for yourselves if the sweet-wife-turned-devious-Delilah is universal or just my lot in life.

Anyway, yesterday was the latest example of Peg lulling me into trying something foolish while she remained the amused spectator. It all began when we were discussing what we would give one another for Christmas.

I confess I am not an easy person to shop for. When I want a shirt or something to eat, I go buy it. I really like Christmas but I am not into the buying and getting part of it. The country of Georgia is good for the Christmas Season as many Georgians celebrate the Julian calendar Christmas Day of December 25th and many recognize the Gregorian calendar of January 7th. I like that approach. Peg and I have stayed with America’s December 25th so she gave me my “gift” yesterday as the weather was good. Weather good you say? Here’s why that mattered.

Photo by Peg Redwine

For the four months we have spent in Georgia we have watched boats dash around hauling fools attached by a long cable and held up by parachutes. These gaily decorated parachutes lull observers into ignoring the perils of falling a hundred feet into the chilly waters of the salty Black Sea. It looked like harmless fun from the safety of our apartment’s balcony. And that’s how Peg sold me on it as she would make comments like, “Jim, look at that guy under the parachute with the smiley face. Doesn’t that look like fun? You would really enjoy that.”

So after I had firmly resisted her repeated efforts to have me succumb to such nonsense for several months, Peg said, “You’re so hard to buy for. How about a parasail ride for your Christmas gift. It will be fun!” I had an initial thought that “one husband’s fun” was likely to be “one wife’s insurance benefit collection”, but I held my silence. And, as often happens with us, I forgot the various disasters for me that Peg’s innocent suggestions had wrought. I said, “Okay, thank you for my Christmas present, let’s go do it.” We went down to the dock and met a Fagin selling rides.

The wizened visage of the toothless boat captain astride his version of a motor boat did not alert me to my fate. That was my fault. I did not see or ask about any safety equipment. That was also my fault. There were no rehearsals or explanations of how this would transpire or what the precautions were for mishaps. Of course, he spoke only Georgian so it would not have mattered anyway.

The Ancient Mariner took Peg’s 150 lari (about $50.00) and strapped me into an apparatus of cords and buckles. There was no escape button. We got about one hundred yards out on the Black Sea then the captain began to let out the cable attached to the smily-faced parachute and me. I quickly was lifted off the deck into a panoramic view of the shore and the Sea. I admit, it was a thrill.

We rode around for about fifteen minutes, the advertised length of the ride, then we continued to bounce along the choppy waves for quite a while as I slowly realized something had gone terribly wrong. The captain could not get the cable to crank me back in. I remained in the harness one hundred feet above the Black Sea as the December wind swirled around me.

After thirty minutes another small boat with two young roustabouts who were disciples of Captain Fagin came along hoisting a long line with a hook attached. They made several attempts to hook my cable and finally did. Then they started hauling me down between the two boats. You, Gentle Reader, understand that the only thing between the boats was the cold, deep Black Sea into which I was thrust face first still attached to the parachute that was rapidly filling with water.

Photo by Peg Redwine

After noting the water was salty, I began to attempt to escape both my harness and the parachute, but the cords were wrapped tightly around both of my legs so I could not swim. My loyal captain did not jump into the Sea to rescue me and neither did the two faux sailors. I guess they all did not wish to get wet. Anyway, I managed to roll onto my back as the would-be dry, rescuers fished me out with a grappling hook type approach but using mainly their hands.

When we got back to shore I was soaked and cold but soothingly comforted by Peg who had filmed the whole episode on her iPhone as she sat warm and dry in the boat. She said the only thing that made sense, “Well, Merry Christmas.”

 

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Filed Under: Christmas, Gavel Gamut, Personal Fun Tagged With: Ancient Mariner, Black Sea, Christmas gift, Country of Georgia, Gentle Reader, Gregorian calendar, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, Julian calendar, Merry Christmas, parasailing, Pick on Peg

I Knew Santa Claus Was Real

November 9, 2022 by Peg Leave a Comment

One of the advantages of working in the former Soviet Union country of Georgia is that Peg and I spend our time where a great deal of history was made. It is not that the United States does not have an interesting story to tell. But the good ’ole US of A cannot legitimately lay claim to be the birthplace of wine as Georgia does or the birthplace of the Holy Roman Empire as does Georgia’s neighbor, Turkey. And one exciting aspect of being in a part of the world where so much of our history was made is that new discoveries of old history are being uncovered everyday. For example, it was recently reported that archeologists unearthed an ancient mosaic beneath the floor of a church in Demre, Turkey that was the original burial place of Saint Nicholas.

I do not know about you, Gentle Reader, but with Christmas less than two months away I was stoked to have scientific evidence that Santa Claus might really be coming down the chimney at JPeg Osage Ranch in Oklahoma. I just have to find a way to re-route him to our apartment in Batumi, Georgia. And since we do not have a chimney here I guess we will have to leave the patio door unlocked. We will not get home until March so I hope Rudolph has his G.P.S. system updated as to the 9 hour time change and the 6,500 mile distance between Oklahoma and Georgia. Peg and I plan to leave the patio light on all Christmas Eve.

Saint Nicholas lived from 270-343 AD and was a contemporary in what would become the country of Turkey with Constantine who lived from 272-337 AD. Constantine made Christianity an acceptable religion and established the Holy Roman Empire once he became Emperor in 306-337 AD. Constantine named Constantinople, now Istanbul, for himself. He also convened the First Council of Nicaea in 325 AD that produced the Nicene Creed that set forth some of the principles of early Christian faith, including much of the humanitarian beliefs attributed by history to Saint Nicholas.

St. Nicholas was born in Papara, Turkey and died in Myra, Turkey. He was alleged to have inherited wealth that he spent his life giving away to those in need. He was especially known for his generosity in giving gifts to children.

As for me, I never doubted such a person existed, but as the youngest of four children my Christmases were accosted by my older and more cynical siblings. Well, I hope they read this account that rings out with the joy of a great and generous spirit and I expect them to accept the scientific proof that I was right all along.

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Filed Under: Christmas, Family, Gavel Gamut, JPeg Osage Ranch Tagged With: Christmas, Constantine, Constantinople, Country of Georgia, First Council of Nicaea, Gentle Reader, Holy Roman Empire, Istanbul, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, JPeg Osage Ranch, Nicene Creed, Oklahoma, Santa Claus, Soviet Union, St. Nicholas, Turkey

Cabin Fever

December 22, 2021 by Peg 1 Comment

 

It is official. Peg and I have the fever. No, not that new-fangled COVID fever, but the original fever spoken of in Genesis, Cabin Fever. Why God could not leave well enough alone I do not know. After six days of hard work, He sat back, “And God saw everything that he had made, and behold it was very good” (Genesis, Chapter 1, verse 31). I guess “very good” was not good enough because after one day of rest God noticed, … “[T]here was no man to till the ground” (Genesis, Chapter 2, verse 5). For all those Biblical scholars, such as my sister, who posit God is actually female, this is strong support for their position. A perfect world could be made more perfect if there were a man to do work around the Garden of Eden.

Of course, Adam could not just lounge around grazing on all but one of Eden’s delights and enjoying eternal life, God had to give him Eve so there would be someone to point out this perfect world needed countless repairs and maintenance, sort of like our little log cabin on the prairie. The week before Christmas brought COVID’s resulting Cabin Fever boiling to the surface at JPeg Osage Ranch.

I do not know how the perfect home Peg fell in love with three years ago magically transformed into a property that constantly requires immediate repair. All I know for sure is I am much more adept at leisure than labor and Peg sees it as her wifely duty to save me from that condition. After all, it was Eve’s sin that brought man’s punishment of work into our lives.

Starting with COVID’s first reported cases in December 2019, Peg and I have gradually adapted from a life of travel, interaction with friends and family, concerts, movies, ball games and dining out to a world with only one other person in it. We have each developed coping skills to handle what may be a life sentence of one-couple isolation. I have reasonably and considerately allowed Peg her own space to do as she pleases such as laundry, housework, juggling family finances via the internet and gardening; there’s that Eve legacy again. Peg on the other hand seems to have a visceral reaction to my approach which is to memorize cable news reports and change sweatsuits occasionally. Hey, I do not concern myself with her choices.

Two years of Cabin Fever finally erupted into full-blown crisis this past weekend when Peg noticed a tiny water leak in the bathroom. It would not have rotted through the floor for quite some time and that is what I politely told her. Well, her reaction was not fit for a column in a family newspaper. She demanded I turn off the fascinating program I was watching on archeological discoveries in the Bermuda Triangle and loudly said, “Do Something!”. Something turned into one full day of me attempting to understand the mysteries of plumbing then another two days of going without the use of the bathroom and waiting for a plumber who told us, “It’s hopeless after your input, now everything will have to be replaced. That will be $100 for analysis of the problem, $200 for parts and $300 for labor. Of course, that’s just an estimate; it will be more if you insist on helping.” When the plumber left, I calmly pointed out to Peg that for the price of a few wet rags we could have saved all the bother for some time. Again, her response was not printable.

So here we are in our own little Garden of Eden waiting for someone to cure COVID and perhaps return us to the halcyon days of yore. One positive thing is, since Peg is not talking to me, I can finish the entertaining program I’m now watching on the mating dances of fruit flies without interruption and without Peg’s demand that something must be fixed, “Right Now!”.

By the way, I hope you had a Merry Christmas and that you and yours have a COVID-free New Year. As for Peg and me, I can only wish for at least an occasional maintenance-free week or two during the long dark period between the Super Bowl and the start of the 2022 football season.

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Filed Under: Christmas, COVID-19, Events, Females/Pick on Peg, Gavel Gamut, JPeg Osage Ranch, Males, New Year's, Personal Fun Tagged With: 2022 football season, Adam, bathroom leak, Bermuda Triangle, cabin fever, Christmas, coping skills, COVID, Do Something, Eve, fever, Garden of Eden, Genesis, God, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, JPeg Osage Ranch, labor, leisure, maintenance free, Merry Christmas, New Year, one-couple isolation

Dear Mr. Scorsese

March 12, 2021 by Peg Leave a Comment

Osage Hills State Park Falls

As Martin Scorsese ramps up production for his movie of David Grann’s book, Killers of the Flower Moon, concerning the tragic murders of members of the Osage tribe in and around my home town of Pawhuska, Oklahoma, I thought Mr. Scorsese might appreciate a little movie making advice. Here is some information he may find helpful.

Ten years before Pawhuska’s favorite son, Ben (Son) Johnson, Jr., won an Academy Award for his role as pool hall/movie theatre owner Sam the Lion in The Last Picture Show I sold him a Stetson hat. Son, I called him Mr. Johnson, was home for a visit in Pawhuska, Oklahoma in 1960 and I was working Saturdays at Hub Clothiers Men’s Store on Kihekah Avenue. Son had just that year had a gun fight with Marlon Brando in One-Eyed Jacks.  I am not suggesting I deserve any credit for Son’s later success but I am pretty sure the hat he wore in The Last Picture Show was the one I sold him; it looked about right for wear and tear.

In addition to that association with stardom I would like to point out that one summer during Vacation Bible School my Sunday School teacher at the First Christian Church, Violet Willis, had our class film a re-enactment of the Christmas story. It was in July and we threw up a manger of blankets and black jack posts on the banks of Sand Creek near the falls in Osage Hills State Park. I played a shepherd. Now I know there aren’t too many sheep in Osage County but I thought my portrayal was still pretty authentic. And it may be of note to Mr. Scorsese as he directs his new movie about Osage County that Violet both lived and worked at the Osage Agency and was herself Osage.

My memory is that Violet used an 8-millimeter hand-held Bell & Howell camera and that she cast my friend and classmate, Glenda Van Dyke, as Mary. Glenda was blond haired, blue eyed and ten years old but she pulled off the young Hebrew mother role quite well I thought. I wish Glenda was available for a casting by Mr. Scorsese now.

Another person who might merit consideration is my big sister, Janie. Much as Lana Turner was discovered at the soda fountain of the Top Hat Café on Sunset Boulevard in Burbank, California, Janie used to work at the soda fountain of Mom and Pop Curry’s snack shop next to the Kihekah (now the Constantine) Theatre in Pawhuska. Janie might be of more utility behind the camera as she is good at giving directions.

And although I do not wish to accentuate my own resumé, I think in fairness to Mr. Scorsese I should mention that I did have a role in my high school’s junior play. Further, I am generally available except when Peg has me doing some chore around JPeg Osage Ranch.

 

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Filed Under: Christmas, Females/Pick on Peg, Gavel Gamut, JPeg Osage Ranch, Movies, Oklahoma, Osage County, Pawhuska Tagged With: Ben Johnson Jr., Christmas Story, Constantine Theatre, David Grann, First Christian Church, James M. Redwine, Jim Redwine, JPeg Osage Ranch, Kihekah Avenue, Killers of the Flower Moon, Lana Turner, Martin Scorsese, Oklahoma, One-Eyed Jacks, Osage Hills State Park, Osage tribe, Pawhuska, Sand Creek, Stetson hat, The Last Picture Show, Top Hat Cafe, Violet Willis

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