So, into the valley of death rides the intrepid old-school blogger tackling the hard issues with as little daylight as possible.
I freely declare that I am a pagan, using the original sense etymologically of the word. I live in the country, a rustic. Proof positive is that I can see no neighbors from my house, not one, and none can see me. Hah! Amazon, UPS, and FedEx, of course, regularly invade my space and mess up my yard. Miscreants.
Here is the amount of daylight members of the Voices team will have today:
Dave Miller: 9 hours, 3 minutes.
Todd Benkert: 9 hours, 8 minutes.
Adam Blosser: 9 hours, 30 minutes
Brent Hobbs: 9 hours, 37 minutes
William Thornton: 9 hours, 53 minutes
Jay Adkins: 10 hours, 12 minutes.
Dave’s a grouch because the sun doesn’t shine on him much today.
Jay’s an annoyingly personable and chipper guy because he gets more sunshine. If he weren’t so much younger and fit than I, I’d punch him on the nose for that.
Of note is that age enhances irascibility; thus, I get more sun but (bah! humbug!) it doesn’t register on the nice scale.
Benkert, Blosser, and Hobbs (our legal team) are young and immune to things such as sunlight and temperature.
I’m still looking for that Southern Baptist church with the cutting edge ministry sufficient to have some kind of Winter Solstice celebration. You could make it work if you’re creative. The Unitarian Universalists seems to have figured it out.
So, Happy Winter Solstice!
I suggest not having Chopin’s Funeral March on your playlist today, nor Night on Bald Mountain. Try some light and perky Gottschalk; carols are always good.
The sun will shine more tomorrow. Cheer up!
First person to try and explain the technical parts of the solstices and equinoxes gets a kick in the rear. No one cares except your astronomy prof.