Santa Is Real... My Letter To My Sons On Christmas Day by Wal Ozello

Every Christmas morning my wife and I leave a personal letter from Santa to my sons. Since my youngest son is coming of age we fear that this may be the last year he believes in Santa. It's about time that he knows the truth.  So instead of pulling him aside and breaking the news to him before going into Middle School, we decided we'd leave a special Christmas note for the boys this year explaining how real Santa really is.

Here's a slightly edited version of the note below.  From all of us at Pencilstorm, a Happy Holidays to you and yours!

Dear Ozello Boys:

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

You’ve had a wonderful year and you boys never cease to amaze me with how kind and loving you are.

You’ve both been doing great at school, at sports, but most importantly have shown love and kindness to everyone. It’s beautiful to watch you grow and become the men you’re going to be! You have strong compassion for others and are such a great friends.

Now that you boys are older, I’d like to address a question that every child your age is asking.

I am real?

Yes I am.

I am as real as the love your parents have for you because that’s what I am. Santa means love and it’s been the magical way that your parents have shown you how much they care about you. Mom and Dad love you immensely and it’s been them all these years who have listened to your heart’s desires and searched high and low for the special gifts that you’ve really, really wanted. It’s been Mom and Dad who work tirelessly to wrap your presents and sneak them under the tree on Christmas Eve after you’ve gone to bed. (Okay, some years it’s been mostly Mom.) It’s been Mom and Dad who write these notes every year and eat the cookies and carrots.

Why do they do this? Why have they worked so hard to keep up this illusion? It’s simple. To see your magical smiles of pure joy when you wake up on Christmas morning and open up your gifts, especially the ones that you didn’t even realize you wanted. They do it because they love you with their whole heart.

So let’s all make a deal. Now that we’ve told you the “secret of Santa,” Mom and Dad will still continue showing you love, especially on Christmas, if you promise to continue growing into the awesome, amazing, loving, caring and beautiful boys that you are destined to be. Deal?  I don’t think it will be very hard for any of us to keep up our end of the bargain. Together, we'll treat every day like it's Christmas and keep the magic of Santa alive forever.

Love,

Santa

Wal Ozello is  a science fiction techno-thriller novelist and the author of Assignment 1989: The Time Travel Wars  and Revolution 1990. He's a resident of Upper Arlington, Ohio and a frequent customer at Colin's Coffee.

Pencilstorm Holiday Party Featuring Colin Gawel and The Lonely Bones Tuesday Dec 23rd @ Woodland's Tavern

If you were one of the 23,864 people who visited Pencilstorm in 2014, we would like to invite you to our annual Holiday Party @ Woodland's Tavern on Tuesday Dec 23rd. Admission is FREE and doors open at 6 pm with happy hour prices on Four String Brew. Legendary Pencilstorm contributor Ricki C. will be performing a solo set starting at 7 pm and Colin Gawel and The Lonely Bones will be playing from 7:30-9. 

All are invited and if you have troubling making it happen just use the magic words, "I have to slide out real quick to do some last minute shopping. It's a secret."

Boom. See you on Tuesday, Dec 23rd at Woodland's Tavern and thanks for supporting Pencilstorm. - Colin G.

The title song to Colin Gawel and the Lonely Bones' December 2010 release. We shot the video at the "Still Love Christmas" release party at Rumba Cafe in Columbus, OH. COLINGAWEL.com

Big $ of the NCP ponders...So what if Johnny wasn't white???

During my time at Pencilstorm, I have made no secret about my disdain for the Browns drafting Johnny Manziel. A hefty percentage of this disdain is rooted purely in football deficiencies. He cannot play in structure, has zero playbook experience, is slight in stature and suffers from misguided confidence. With Johnny though, you also get a second list of cons based on personality and off-the-field issues to add to the playing weaknesses.

Somehow, even with this laundry list of negatives he has garnered the adoration of a large percentage of Browns fans (jersey sales don't lie). I, for one, am wildly confused by this phenomenon.

So in the midst of this confusion, I took time to ponder, "What if Johnny looked different?" I'm not talking about him inking a deal with pro activ, I'm talking about his race. What if Johnny maintained his baggage but was African-American? Would Cleveland fans still ignore and justify his negatives? Would they still have celebrated his arrival with such crazed anticipation?

To make things interesting, I'm going to actually assign a specific person that he could assume the body of. Imagining how Johnny would be received by Browns fans if he had braids or gold teeth would be like shooting fish in a barrel. The Johnny to imagine for the remainder of this diatribe is Braylon Edwards. So take a walk into fantasy land with me as we consider if "Braylon Football" would be wildly popular in Cleveland if the last 16 months of his life maintained this timeline:

August 2013 - A Sports Illustrated article highlights his entitled background and petulant ways.

August 2013- Receives a tickle on the wrist for signing autographs, an offense that cost other players significant playing time and NFL money (including some Buckeyes).

August 2013- Returns from 1st half wrist tickle against Rice, and receives taunting penalties for his, ahem, "lack of on-field sportsmanship."

August - December 2013- Sees his output decline but his draft stock improve due to no other college qb's excelling.

May 2014 - Begins to slide in draft, and in desperation sends a "lets wreck this league" text to a team which happens to catch the fancy of an owner who is of the same cultural and economic background that he is. That owner demands that he be drafted.

Summer 2014 - Even though he his severely handicapped by his lack of playbook experience, he chooses to escape Browns training camp at every opportunity to party. Several saucy pics surface, including one that shows him about to partake in a certain nasal stimulant.

Summer 2014 - During a pre-season game, he decides to greet an opposing team with a single extended finger.

November 2014 - Is involved in a brawl the weekend of a road game.

November 2014 - Reports surface that he free lances in practice and isn't committed to learning the playbook, etc. Cameras catch him arriving at games at the last possible second, even though he is expected to see some playing time.

November 2014 - Enters a game and runs for a T.D. Even though his team is still down by two scores he decides to flash a money sign to the opposing crowd.

December 2014 - In response to being called a midget, he finds a way to compare himself to Super Bowl champion and perennial MVP candidate, Drew Brees. At the time of this comparison, Johnny has 0 NFL wins.

December 2014 - Is flat out embarrassed in his first start.

I'm not a sociologist, but I grew up in Cleveland and have been an avid C town sports fan since I first learned to walk. There is no way I believe that "Braylon Football" would enjoy even a fraction of the popularity that Johnny has had handed to him since he was drafted. As a matter of fact, I assume his first round drafting would have been widely lampooned and questioned. Where Braylon would have been admonished for being irresponsible, Johnny has been applauded for enjoying his youth. Where Braylon would be a team killer, Johnny is seen as a master of improv.

This is simply my opinion, and outside of some "Soul Man/C. Thomas Howell-esque" experiment there will never be any concrete evidence to support my Johnny vs. Braylon Football hypothesis. I also know this opinion may be hard to swallow for some Cleveland sports fans. However, if one is truly honest with themselves and examines the plight of African American qb's  cross-referenced with Johnny's history, it's hard not to identify a double standard in the Cleveland-Manziel phenomenon.

The North Coast Posse are Big $ and K-Dubs the Soldier. They cover the Bronwns exclusively for Pencilstorm. Follow them on twitter @northcoastposse.

Hot Stove Chatter. Reds and Indians. by Brian Phillips

Reds fans should be concerned by the complete lack of movement on the offensive front after last season's anemic output, and their starting staff is now worse with the exits of Mat Latos to Miami and Alfredo Simon to Detroit. 

The idea of trading Simon in and of itself isn't bad. 2014 was a high water mark without question for the journeyman. What they got in return though is a piddling young shortshop in Eugenio Suarez and underwelming A-ball pitcher Jonathan Crawford. 

The 23 year old Suarez appeared in 85 games for the big club last season and in 277 plate appearances whiffed almost 25% of the time. In 2012 Suarez was a top 15 prospect for Detroit, but their list was pretty weak that season. (Nick Castellanos was #1, and I don't see a future star there.) Suarez was rated then as a decent glove guy with a utility infielder ceiling. Not a lot to get excited about there.

Crawford was drafted in the first round by the Tigers in 2013. The 23 year old from The University of Florida pitched in A ball last year and posted decent numbers, but his walk and strike out rates at that low level indicate a cloudy future. 

The Latos deal looks like a salary dump to me. Sure there are concerns over health, but isn't that true of any pitcher (see Cueto)? In return the Marlins shipped a nice catching prospect in Chad Wallach and a mediocre rightie named Anthony Desclafani.  

The just turned 23 Wallach was a fifth round pick in 2013 out of baseball factory Cal-State Fullerton. He logged a walk rate in A ball last year that can only be described as Billy Beane porn. 62 walks to 46 k's is impressive at any level. He doesn't display any power to speak of, but scouts love his defense. Someday the Reds can trade him to Oakland.

Desclafani is on his third organization having arrived in Miami as part of that infamous trade with the Blue Jays back in 2013. He started five games for the Marlins last season, but scouts profile him out of the bullpen. In the Arizona Fall League just last month the clipboards were still looking for a supposed developing change up. Without that he's just another fastball/slider guy topping out at 91/94 with the heater. In a 33 inning big league sample last year Desclafani showed more fly ball tilt than you'd like for a guy going into Great American, and he gave up too much hard contact. He'll compete for a rotation job in the spring, but don't hold your breath.

Bottom Line? The Reds are worse off than they were when they packed up their gear in late September. Homer Bailey underwent surgery in September, and you just hold your breath with Cueto's durability long term. You have to be concerned as a Reds fan.

The Indians off season has been pretty simple by comparison. The Indians acquired slugging OF/1B Brandon Moss from the A's in exchange for AA second baseman Joey Wendle on December 8th. The Tribe are loaded with young middle infielders so giving up Wendle isn't a big deal. 

Brandon Moss is Nick Swisher with more pop. Both hit righties better than lefties though Swish is a switch hitter. I'm sure they're both fun to drink beer with so there's that. Moss is going to strike out a ton, hit 25 or so home runs and drive you nuts when he goes 0 for a week here and there. 

And on Tuesday the Indians signed veteran starter Gavin Floyd to a one year 4 million dollar deal. Floyd's only season in Atlanta last year was shortened by injury. You can't really call him an innings eater as he failed to reach 200 in his final four years with the White Sox. The money is right though and if they can give him to the ball 30 times in 2015 they'll look at him as a bargain. Floyd essentially replaces the departed Justin Masterson in the rotation. Masterson was always a bit hard to figure anyway.

The Tribe could be pretty good this year if they get bounce backs from Jason Kipnis, Carlos Santana and Swisher. All had disappointing seasons and yet the Indians hung around to the end. 

Brian Phillips is the afternoon jock at the legendary Indie radio blowtorch WWCD102.5. He knows a thing or two about a thing or two. 

Stone Brewing Can Shove "Gratitude IPA" Right Up Their Ass by Colin G.

I realize that telling somebody to shove gratitude up their ass isn't exactly in the holiday spirit, but The Stone Brewing Company has been a very bad boy, and people in Columbus should choose another beer to support this Holiday season. 

You might recall that back in June, Columbus made a hard push to convince Stone to build their new brewery in our fair city, creating all kinds of good jobs for the hardworking folks of Central Ohio. Richmond, VA had long been the front-runner, but then Stone Brewer and Pataskala native Greg Koch cracked the door a little, showing up at Comfest (Lonely Bones gig, no less) in June encouraging his former hometown to make a strong push because we still had a chance. And push we did. Hell, we even covered it here on Pencilstorm. The entire Stone2Cbus campaign was a major success. They got tons of press and sold pallets of beer as we tried to show them our love.

Just after the 4th of July, Stone was just about set to announce the site of the new Brewery: Richmond or Columbus. Then the announcement was pushed back a week. Then another week.  And yet another. On August 7th they announced we were one of THREE finalists.Then no word at all except that it is very close. Very, very close. Keep on dazzling us, Columbus. Keep buying Stone. You still have a shot. Finally, on OCTOBER 9TH, a full THREE MONTHS later, Stone announced that Richmond had won and the new brewery would be built there.

But in another press release they assured Columbus that the decision had been very hard and that to show how much they appreciated our effort and all the Stone beer we bought, they were brewing a special beer just for us, to say "Thanks for letting us play you. Suckers." It didn't actually say that, but it did say, "This is no consolation prize."

Ummm, First Prize is a 74 million dollar investment and 288 jobs and Second Prize is we will sell you more of our beer (which - by the way - you don't get to brew, losers). That sounds exactly like a consolation prize. And a crappy one at that. They didn't even throw in the Stone board game so we could play at home.

So "Gratitude" IPA has hit the shelves in Central, Ohio just in time to compete with all of our local breweries. How nice of Stone to think of us. They brewed it just for Columbus. How nice. Is any of the money going to stock the local food pantry, heat the homeless shelter or help pay for the new Ohio State offensive coordinator? Stuff people in Central Ohio really care about.

Nope, that money you spend on "Gratitude" goes to pay for the new brewery in Richmond. Two questions jump immediately to mind:

1) How stupid do they think we are?

2) How stupid are we?

Or put another way: This is like a being in a relationship wherein an attractive woman strings you along for months, until her old boyfriend gets her the big rock she always wanted, but she lacked the leverage to get boyfriend to come across with until you came along. Now, after breaking your heart AND wallet, she is going to show you her gratitude for being so nice by letting you take her out to dinner one last time. Then, after you pick up that big dinner tab, she is heading home to bang her new fiancé Richmond all night long. (Feel free to plug in whatever gender works for you.)

People of Columbus, I implore you to show a tiny bit of pride and put that Stone Brew down. This holiday season and beyond, show a local brewery some genuine "Gratitude" for providing jobs and beer for your city. Drink Local. But whatever you do, don't drink Stone.

Colin Gawel founded Pencilstorm and plays in the almost-famous band Watershed. His other essays include "Starbucks Can Shove That Pumpkin Spice Latte Right Up Their Ass" and "Epic Records Can Shove Silverchair Right Up Their Ass." His opinions represent nobody's but his own.

Two Very Different Ricki C. Family Holiday Stories

I can’t deny that in some quarters the family I grew up in has been called dysfunctional.  (My family has also been called worse – say, true to our Italian roots, crazy, drunk & loud – but let’s not forget that the first word in dysfunctional is “fun.”)

Two heartwarming Ricki C. family Christmas stories:

1)    In 1969 I was a senior in high school and my second girlfriend ever was a cute blonde majorette.  I attribute that fact solely to the power of rock & roll.  In mid-1968 I was a shy, socially retarded, book-reading geek who had never even spoken a coherent sentence to a girl, let alone dated one.  Then I joined a classmate’s rock & roll band and – courtesy of the six-string piece of wood hanging around my neck at basement parties & sock-hops – I became a local version of a rock & roll star, hence the cute, perky, blonde majorette girlfriend.  (Frankly, I was in way over my head.)

One Saturday night in December I wound up at said girlfriend’s house, playing board games with her mom & dad and two little sisters.  I have to admit, when mom & dad and little sis starting pulling out Candyland, Game Of Life and Clue I had serious, serious doubts about the evening.  My own little family had never played a board game in its entire existence.  From the time I was five years old and could hold my own cards, we had played various card games – poker, euchre, gin rummy – and we played for money, always.  There was no Crazy Eights or Go Fish for this little Ricki C.  Cash changed hands regularly, and I learned young that no money was gonna be given back just because you cried or because you didn’t know how to gamble a hand to a successful conclusion.  There were no backsies in our household.   

Anyway, that Saturday night with my girlfriend’s family turned out pretty great: we played charades and five or six different board games.  Cookies & hot chocolate were even served.  Everybody was laughing and having fun, nobody yelled at anybody else, nobody threw down their cards and called another family member a goddamn cheater, it was really quite festive and charming.  I remember thinking very clearly at one point, “I bet this is what it’s like at the Cleavers, or Donna Reed’s, or the family on Father Knows Best’s house.”  I realized at that exact moment that there actually were families like the ones I had previously thought were only made up for television.  It was an eye-opening moment, a definite epiphany.

By New Year’s Day, the majorette had dropped me like a live grenade for a hippie piano player who could play that Simon & Garfunkel album “Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme” all the way through, so consequently my career of familial board-game playing was extremely short-lived.  To this day I find myself thinking about that Saturday night every December.  It’s a warm and comforting memory, a night I was a member of a sitcom family.

2)    Christmas Eve, 1976, my extended family – my mom, my sister & brother, my sister’s husband, various aunts, uncles & cousins, etc. – were all in my sister’s basement on the West Side and everybody was wicked drunk.  It was a rager.  Even by our rather alcoholic standards, that night was especially out of control.  Oddly, though – since virtually EVERYBODY was drunk on their ass – it was a pretty congenial gathering.  People might have been yelling & slurring, but they were yelling & slurring in a really genuinely friendly, familial manner.  (I’d certainly witnessed fistfights in the family when we were less drunk than that night.)

Anyway, at one point the ping-pong table got turned on its side and my brother-in-law was preparing to throw the brand-new, and – I might add – really, really sharp steak knives he and my sister got for a present that night AT MY SISTER, who was standing up against the overturned ping pong table, holding party balloons in her hands AND HER MOUTH.  I fully admit I was also totally drunk that night, but I was seemingly the only person at the party sober enough to realize the knife-throwing act was really not a good idea and I told my brother-in-law, “Hey Jim, come on, nobody wants to go to the emergency room on Christmas Eve, let’s cool it.”  Jim laughed, waved me aside, took another drag on his cigarette, said, “I’ve got this,” and raised the first knife to throw.

“I’m really not joking, Jim,” I said, backing up to where my sister stood – smiling & posing like the lovely knife-thrower’s assistant she was right at that moment – and said, “Come on, Dianne, this is enough.”  Just at that moment – THWACK!!! – a steak knife thumped into the ping pong table right next to my head.  “Goddamn it, Jim,” I yelled as I whirled around, “I told you not to throw this.”  “And I told you to get out of the way,” he yelled back as I pulled the knife out of the table in case I needed to use it against him to stop that particularly dangerous little game.

All of a sudden Jim and I realized we were faced off against one another with knives in our hands on Christmas Eve and we both busted out laughing.  Everybody cheered, nobody got stabbed, nobody wound up in the hospital.  Just another heartwarming Cacchione family Christmas.  – Ricki C. / December 13th, 2014
       

(Pencilstorm welcomes endearing Christmas stories like these from our contributors, or just from our readers.  Send them in, we'll print the best ones throughout December.)