The 2012 Retrospective

The time has come to look back over the past year, pointing with pride, viewing with alarm, shuddering with fear and loathing. It was a mixed bag, almost more so than most years. People died that I was quite fond of. Others came down with grave illnesses. We had dreadful storms. The Lambertville water grew as foul as anything I've ever experienced coming out of a tap. They'll fix it on January 13 of next year, they claim. Don't hold your breath. Or do. The smell is still awful.

The canal bank, ravaged by Hurricane Sandy

On the other hand, my candidate won the election, and if you were unhappy about that I can only hope that things won't go as badly for you as you fear they will. In other good news, St. Andrews Lambertville, my little Episcopal church, has made such strides with its music program that we are singing Bach cantatas in German, with a small pickup orchestra, and we sound pretty good. In fact we sing so much in German these days that if you were to wander in off the street you'd think you were in a Lutheran church. Which is perfectly appropriate, come to think of it, since the Episcopalians have been in full communion with the Lutherans for years.

I got a flu shot, which is a plus, since I had no reaction to it whatever and in fact forgot about it right away. I finished writing MONKEYSTORM, quite an amusing book. Look for it soon. Also on the plus side, my kitchen was spared the annual infestation of meal moths that causes me to have to throw out all the flour, rice, corn meal, waffle mix, and in a really bad year baking soda, every September. (Imagine laying eggs in a box of baking soda and expecting your offspring to thrive.) So when I was forced to throw out everything in the refrigerator and freezer on the third day of the power outage from Hurricane Sandy, I at least had some flour and corn meal, not that we had any way to cook anything.

Furthermore the world didn't end. That was a definite plus. I wouldn't have said I was paying any attention to the Mayan apocalypse until I went to write down a doctor's appointment for next January on the calendar we keep on the refrigerator door. There wasn't one for next year. I forgot to buy a refill. Or maybe I secretly believed I wouldn't need it.

In any case, have a very happy new year. Stay well. We will try to do the same.

Kate Gallison

Embracing the New Year

Yes, folks, 2012 is here, probably not the year the world will end. I think we were a lot closer in 1953. Remember the doomsday clock? Remember how the authorities told us to duck under our desks and cover our heads? As if that would save us when the ICBMs came raining down. Remember the house the government built out in the desert somewhere, a nice split-level like the ones we all lived in, so that they could blow it up with an atomic bomb and show us the footage on TV? I particularly recall the venetian blinds, how they flew off the windows and sliced the dummies all up. Don't use venetian blinds, the voice-over guy told us. They'll cut you to ribbons before you have a chance to burn to death when the bombs come.

So I ain't scared of a bunch of dead Mayans. Our government has them way outclassed in the way of spreading the fear of the End. No, I'm looking forward to 2012, and the two-hundredth anniversary of the War of 1812, one of my favorites, where Canada and the US fought to a draw and later on decided to be friends. Or earlier on, in the case of the St. Croix River Valley. In honor of the new year, and in the confident hope that I'll survive to see the end of it, I'm overhauling my web site yet again.

Check it out. Harold says I should get a focus group to look at it and tell me what they think. I started out by tinkering with the author photo, where I thought my face might be a tad too red. Nice photo, by the way; it was taken by photographer Maureen A. Vacarro, who likes a credit when I can fit one in. But I tinkered with it until I looked about three days dead, and I sort of liked it. Harold didn't, though. Of course he was right as usual and I put it back.

You'll notice that the page has a big white space in the middle. There I mean to post little YouTubes from time to time, new trailers and items of interest. You'll notice also that the links lead to the same old inner pages, which need work. I'll get to that. Also I have to post the press photos. Right now the press is not beating down my door for photos and interviews, but it never hurts to be ready.

And so, Happy New Year! Onward and upward!

Kate Gallison

Happy New Year and a Blessed 20*C*M*B*12 to You!

January, named after Janus the Roman god of doorways and begnnings, looking to the past and the future.

On January 6 many people will celebrate Twelfth Night, a festival concluding the Twelve Days of Christmas. The last day of the Christmas festivities, a time of merrymaking with a wassail punch - bowls of "lamb's wool" made of sugar, nutmeg, ginger and ale. A time to consume fruits and nuts and eat the King Cake.

January 6 is also known as the visit of the three wise men, the tres magi reges or los tres reyes magos – Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar, who went to Bethlehem at a time based, not only on the light of a star (or comet) but on the Jewish Feast of Lights.

Many Eastern Orthodox churches treat January 6 as the day marking the birth of Christ.

Caspar was thought to be a Persian scholar, Melchior, Babylonian, and Balthasar, Arab. Some Chinese Christians believe one of the Magi came from China.

Various traditions teach that the remains of the Magi are buried at the Shrine of The Three Kings at Cologne Cathedral.

A tradition in Central Europe involves writing the initials of the three kings with the year number split – as in – 20 * C * M * B * 12 – above the main door of the home in chalk, to confer blessings on the occupants for the New Year.

The initials C, M, B also represent "Christus mansionem benedicat," Christ this abode bless.

Most traditions assume there were three Magi, but some eastern authorities believe in twelve Magi. That the men were Kings may have come from Psalm 72:11 – " All kings shall fall down before thee. "

The Gospel of St. Matthew classes them as "Wise men from the east."

Matthew also mentions the gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. Tradition has it that gold was a symbol of kingship on earth or virtue, frankincense a symbol of priesthood or prayer, and myrrh a symbol of death or suffering.

In my play, The Birth of Christ, which was presented for ten years by my students at Saint Mary's School, Sewanee, Tennessee, the three kings play a key role, with slightly different interpretations of their gifts.

The old Magi are sensitive and prescient in this drama. They speak of the stars in this land as almost black, except for the one that leads them. King Two says, "Never have I seen any star glow with such fire."

King Three: "There is something touching mankind this night that I have never seen before."

They are fairly specific about the gifts they bring. "My greatest treasure, a babe's weight in pure gold. My gold will buy the finest horses in Arabia, outfit such a king with armor wrought by the finest smiths of Persia and a sword of the new metal I have seen in my travel."

"I bear in my hands the magic of all the east, the perfumes and spices of my people, and a light from the fire that has burned in my city for ages long... Our friend can call himself the light of the world – and such a palace he will have... "

King Three brings "a bit of myrrh for suffering. And a rose - for love... this rose will rise above the dust and snow of men's cold hearts to bring springtime ... and when he has touched it, it shall never wither..."

* * * * * * *
In 2012 we can build our own futures on the past, add on the gifts of the present and create our own traditions, if we wish. . .

May each of us, whatever our faiths, both give and receive our own personal gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh in 20 *C * M * B * 12.

Thelma J. Straw