The Best Christmas Present I've Ever Received - And You Can Give it Too!

Is it just me or are there any others who think the Christmas season in America (Japan too) has become an orgy of crass commercialism? Of course, that is a rhetorical question. I think most people do.

Christmas is no longer is it the heart-warming family get-together tradition of days long gone by. Christmas today has turned into a mad dash towards debt and poverty. It's not only debt and poverty concerning money and lifestyle, it is a poverty of the soul. One need only look at the news about "Black Friday" and the violence to see what Christmas in America has become. 


The only reason we celebrate Christmas at my house is that we have an 8-year-old. I could never be such a Grinch to deny a small boy Christmas.


Whatever happened to just getting together with family and friends and enjoying each others company? It's sad what has happened to the "Season to be jolly."


In that spirit though, I'd like to relate today about a great present I got when I was a kid... It is a present that I have received over and over these past 44 years. That was a wonderful present I received from a classmate of mine when I was a kid in Minnesota. His name was James Rudd and the present wasn't in a box. It was on his face and in his heart. Every time I see a box brightly wrapped as a present, I see Jim Rudd's face and that moment, the spirit of him, comes to visit me and I receive that wonderful gift yet again.


Even though I cannot transport my children into the past by use of a time machine, I want my children to know and experience the true joy of giving and receiving. Towards that end, I always try to relate to my kids the story of James Rudd.


When I was in forth grade, James Rudd, "Jim," wasn't really my good friend. He was a classmate. I am quite ashamed to admit that I think I wasn't very friendly to Jim because he was sometimes bullied by the other kids so, in order to make sure that they didn't bully me, I foolishly joined in in making fun of Jim. Jim was a down to earth dorky kind of kid that might remind you a lot of Opie Taylor from the Andy Griffith Show.

 Opie Taylor

In those days, at Christmas time, the kids in the classroom all shared in Christmas festivities by buying one present. The catch was that you didn't know who you were buying the present for! The rules were that each child could buy one gift of no more than two dollars. Each child would wrap the present and bring it to class and put it under the tree. When it came to the last day of school, before Christmas holiday, each child would draw a name out of a hat and receive the present from the person whose name they drew.


I was quite unhappy that I drew Jim Rudd's name because he wasn't "cool" and was kind of dorky (look who's talking!) I think I was so unhappy about that drawing that it showed up on my face for everyone to see.


When I went to the tree to grab the present Jim prepared, Jim came to sit in front of me at my desk. 


In those days, I was a World War II nut. I loved building plastic military models of planes, ships and tanks. Especially German tanks. I thought those were the coolest. Of course, in a class of 30 kids, with each kid buying one present to be selected at random by another child, there was no way to know what you were going to get.


To expect a King Tiger tank was probably setting myself up for a big letdown.


I got that letdown when I opened the present from Jim. It was a plastic model alright, but it was a plastic model of an old Spanish Galleon. I didn't like it at all. I am once again sad to admit that my disappointment probably greatly showed on my face even though I tried to hide it.

But then, after opening the plastic model, was when Jim Rudd gave me the present that he has been giving me every year since then. It was the present that has warmed my heart all these years. It is the story I have told my children repeatedly and am now sharing with you.


With disappointment on my face and sadness in my heart, after opening the present I looked straight into Jim eyes and he looked into mine. With the utmost sincerity and enthusiasm brimming over Jim smiled brightly to me and said, 


"Mike! I hope you like it!"


I could see from his eyes and his words that he meant it from the bottom of his soul. My heart melted and I thought, 


"Gee! What a really sweet, nice guy!"


Mere words on a paper could never express the way I felt at that time. Here was this incredibly sincere boy giving me a present (that he picked himself and thought was really cool) and was hoping that I would like it as much as he did.


He gave me something that he wanted! Not only that, he gave me sincerity, enthusiasm and a warm spirit of friendliness and a feeling that I will never forget until my dying day: With just one smile and six words, he gave me the true spirit of Christmas.


Jim Rudd, you gave me something that I have always remembered and I will never forget it. I recall it every year at every birthday party andChristmas and every gift-giving celebration. I wish I could give such a wonderful gift to someone someday.


I will cherish this memory all my life. And now, Jim, you allow me to share it with others. James Rudd, wherever you are, thank you so much sincerely from the bottom of my heart.... and Merry Christmas!

Recurring Dreams and Alternate Universes

I think most people have recurring dreams. If most people don't, then maybe I am just weird because I have had the same five recurring dreams over and over for these last 27 years. Do you have recurring dreams? 

Since moving to Japan, I have had basically five recurring dreams. But, now that I think about it, one of these dreams, the dreams of me flying like a bird or a jet plane, stopped a few years ago.


I wonder why my dreams of flight have disappeared? Maybe because I turned 50 and stopped dreaming like a 17-year-old? No, I don't think it is that because I still feel like a 17-year-old many times (just won't be doing the crazy things I used to do).


The first of the five recurring dreams I've had was flying in the skies. They started when I was a small boy. In my dreams could fly like Icarus. Can you fly in your dreams? Those are fun dreams... Sometimes, I guess when my condition wasn't so great, I'd have a hard time achieving lift-off in my dream. I'd have to run and flap my arms as hard as I could until I took off. Sometimes it was a great effort and I had to try over and over. Other times, I was just like a graceful bird; a tiny step and jump and I was off soaring like an eagle in the clouds.


Then, when I got to about 30 or so, I could fly like a jet plane. In fact, many times I knew I was dreaming and that I was flying. I figured it was some sort of alternate universe and so I rode it like a snow-boarder rides the snow or a surfer rides the waves. I knew I was dreaming but didn't care. When  could really fly and fly like a rocket, doing a thousand miles and hour, I would consider flying over the Pacific Ocean and going to the United States to fly over my parents house.


Weird thing is that I would fly out a few hundred miles from the coast of Japan, look over the water, and turn around because I'd start getting scared. Scared that I would wake up and be flying over the cold ocean, fall into it, and have to swim back. I used to be a good swimmer, but not that good. Being so high over such deep water freaked me out so I'd turn back. Even though I knew it was just a dream.


The other problem with flying to the USA like a 747 in my dreams was that, at such high speeds, I had a difficult time turning and would often continue on a straight line when I wanted to make a hard left turn.


Sounds ridiculous because it was all a dream and I knew it, but I also felt that, somewhere in my heart, dreams were and alternate universe and a reflection on reality. I guess I still do.


Another dream that often occurred was fishing. I love fishing. Before I moved to japan, I went fishing every week. Sometimes two or three times a week. Fishing is heaven. Fishing is spiritual and fishing is close to God.

There is a saying about fishing. It goes like this: "Do you know what the difference is between a religious man and a spiritual man? A religious man goes to church and thinks about fishing. A spiritual man goes fishing and thinks about god."


I am a spiritual man. I'd go fishing everyday of the week if I could.


I used to dream about fishing at least once a week when I first came to Japan. Sometimes I dreamt about it every night for days in a row. That's because it is difficult to go fishing in Japan and I had been an avid fisherman since I was a small boy living in Minnesota. Minnesota is known as the "Land of 10,000 Lakes" so fishing is a lifestyle there.


Fishing in Japan, Tokyo especially, though, is a chore. Japan is a crowded place and the good areas for fishing on the coastline are usually taken by the local fishing collective so they don't take too kindly to your fishing in their good spots... In fact, they might give you the boot up the ass if they catch you fishing in their prime areas. Going fishing in Japan is not like the USA where you can just grab a rod and reel and head off to the lake or shoreline. In Japan, fishing is an all-day expedition like 18 holes of golf: You need a plan and it costs lots of money.


My other two recurring dreams, or maybe I should say nightmares, are related to work. Whenever work is going poorly or I worry about bankruptcy or the economy going down the tubes (an understandable and common recent worry since 2008) I have bad dreams of returning to the USA and going back to my old jobs. 


The worse job is returning to Prudential to the same old office and working with those dishonest people that I wrote about yesterday in Working With Thieves, Liars and Crooks. The weird part of the dream is that I am always scheming about returning to Japan and, even after one year, haven't sold one single contract yet they do not fire me in my dream.


Talk about being able to live off one's laurels!


The other work-related dream is that I go back to working at a Sears, Roebuck and Company in Ventura, California (it was in Oxnard when I worked there, but has since moved causing the city of Oxnard to sue the city of Ventura, but that's another story about the insanity of the USA).


When I was 17 I started working at Sears in the catalogue ordering department and then transferred to commission sales in the Photo & Office Equipment department. As a commission salesman, I made a heck of a lot of money in the late 1970's.


In my dreams, for some bizarre reason, I go back there and have to work in the sewing machine and vacuum cleaner department selling poorly made and badly designed Sears equipment. The nightmarish part of the entire thing, besides selling this poorly designed and quite unstylish junk, the same management is there at the company running around doing their weird hijinks.


There is the store manager, whose name escapes me, but he was a very short, yet handsome man. He dumped his beautiful wife and four beautiful daughters (whom he often brought to the store) to marry another woman (who he soon also brought to the store). I always noticed the daughter because they were very beautiful girls. He got his lightening strike from god when, soon after the divorce and marriage, he was diagnosed with some sort of brain cancer. No kidding. I think he soon died after that. 


Then there was a guy named Walter who was a section chief who was married but he ran around unable to control his libido and was trying to take every woman working at the store to bed. I guess his wife got fed up with it one day and dumped him and got another boyfriend.


Walt, being like the immature little boy he was, then decided that he wanted his "toy" back (the wife he disrespected and treated like sh*t) and, from what I understand, went screaming drunk to the boyfriend's house while she was there and started banging on the door and breaking it down.


The boyfriend shot him and killed him.


Later, after the funeral that I didn't attend, many Sears employees were complaining that the wife was wearing black but didn't seem sad. I heard them complaining about that and said nothing. It did nothing for me but confuse me as to what was really important to these people and what they were thinking about. 


There were lots of really weird things going on at Sears at that time. I found the same types of problems when I got myself transferred to the Sears in San Fernando Valley and found that store, too, was full of some very twisted people whose priorities were not success of the business and success of their personnel and staff but protection of their position and attempting to continue their lives acting like high school students with their idiotic politics and clicks.


But, I digress....


These are the recurring dreams I often have. Even in the case of Sears or my old jobs, it is nice to be able to see my old friends and to remember them in their beautiful youth. Even when I have nightmares, I am able to realize that they are nightmares and am able to view them like a movie so they rarely scare me. 


I went to see my sick old dad a few weeks ago. He wasn't the same person that I will always remember. In my dreams, he is a young and handsome 30+ some year old Marine wrestling with us kids in the yard. For the sick, aged and ill, dreams are an escape. Back to better times and the treasures of youth. 


Surely, dreams are one of the best things about living that there could possibly be. I look forward to sleeping every night and I look forward to the dreams of my youth.

How about your dreams? I think if you wake up and think, "Today is going to be great" and you keep track and write down your goals, you can control your dreams and make sure they are positive. Try it. For more on that, read, One Easy Step to Becoming a Better Parent and More Successful at Life.