Paul Turner: Hallmarks of a Spokane Christmas

There are Spokane residents who don’t know what Christmas is like here.

That’s because they spend every yule out of town. Sometimes they travel to be with their far-away families. Other times they go to be with distant in-laws. Some couples take turns with their destinations. Still others spend the holiday in Arizona or some other reliably warm locale and have done so every December since moving here.

So, as I said, they don’t know what Christmas is like hereabouts.

They must wonder though. What are the hallmarks of a Christmas spent back in good old Spokane?

Well, perhaps we ought to tell them. With about 10 days until Christmas, today might be good occasion to file a report. You know, before they leave town.

Here goes.

Each year at right about this time, the head of a Spokane building and loan finds himself in crippling money trouble thanks to a stupid, silly old fool working for him in a nepotism arrangement. Our hero repairs to a local bar to look for answers with his guardian angel, who has a hard time deciding what he wants to drink.

Sometimes friends scrape together the funds he needs. Other times he is indicted.

His daughter says, “Every time a bell rings, a package is stolen from someone’s porch in Spokane.”

The richest man in town (balance sheet definition) wishes our old building and loan pal a happy New Year – “in jail!”

And it wouldn’t be Christmas in Spokane without a group of children and one spunky beagle – remarkably free of adult supervision – struggling to find the meaning of the holiday as they witness a Christmas miracle. It’s a scrawny sapling being magically transformed into a robust, full-figured tree.

One kid, a bit of an outcast, forgives the other children for their persistent campaign of blockhead shaming and all raise their voices in song.

Elsewhere, in the Whoville neighborhood of Spokane, widespread burglaries are annually attributed to a suspicious looking green bicyclist. Police later discover a stash of purloined presents and roast beast. Everything ends happily.

And though it’s almost impossible to believe, Santa Claus goes on trial for fraud but gets off when his Gonzaga-trained lawyer concocts a winning defense involving cooperation among retailers and the post office’s recognition of the jolly old elf.

Anyway, that’s a little of what it’s like in Spokane while you’re gone. Or so it says here.

Sort of makes you want to stick around town for Christmas doesn’t it?

Re: rooting for a white Christmas

Not everyone likes snow, even at this time of year.

So let’s look at the arguments, for and against.

Pro: Holiday tradition.

Con: It probably didn’t snow in Bethlehem.

Pro: You need snow to make snowmen and snowwomen.

Con: Driving in snow can be more iffy than festive.

Pro: We’re more apt to have a white Christmas than Seattle.

Con: Getting hit in the face with a snowball isn’t all that much fun.

Pro: Snow goes with certain songs of the season.

Con: Dreaming of it is one thing, shoveling it is another.

Pro: Are you being forced to live this far north?

Con: Sometimes small dogs get high-centered.

Pro: What is Santa’s sleigh supposed to use when landing on a rooftop – tires?

Con: Some say snow’s chief appeal is that it can cover up dog droppings.

Pro: Nobody ever longed to sit by the fire, play holiday music, sip hot chocolate and gaze out a dank December scene of brown and gray.

The squirrels who came for Christmas

I’m acquainted with the thought that feeding wildlife isn’t usually a great idea.

You don’t want them to become dependent on you as a food source. I get it.

But we have some squirrels at our place whose antics we have enjoyed watching. And we would rather they not run out into the street more often than necessary.

So we tried an experiment.

There is a big rock in our front yard, not far from the base of a tall pine tree.

The rock is mostly roundish but has a natural ledge in it, facing the house. We’ve seen the squirrels on it many times. So I put some peanuts on the ledge.

For a couple of days there was no reaction. Then I happened to look out and see one of the rodents having some peanuts.

This felt like a success. So, a while later, I put out more peanuts.

These were quickly attended to.

Next, a day or so later, I put out a few pine nuts left over from a salad. One of our resident squirrels was on them in no time.

And Friday morning, I placed a handful of pistachios on the rock ledge. One of the animals must have been up in the pine tree watching. Because the next time I looked out, just a few moments later, a squirrel was having pistachios. With gusto.

You can’t tell with wildlife, of course. But the squirrel seemed to be thinking “I hope this magical rock of giving offers up more of these.”

It will. But maybe not until Christmas Eve.