Santa Claus Loves Books ...

A Whole Tree of Books!

Ho! Ho! Ho! 

Merry Christmas!

I know you're busy, but I want to tell you a secret.

Shhhhh ... I know Santa Claus.  

Santa told me he loves to read and he loves filling his sleigh with books for gifts and stocking stuffers.

Hey!  How about my books?  I have one for every age.

A book is the perfect gift for children, parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, teachers, sisters and brothers, and friends  ... 

Children’s Books:  [Paperback or Kindle]

Barking Spiders and Other Such Stuff

Read a Preview

Buy at Amazon

Barking Spiders 2 (the sequel)

Read a Preview

Buy at Amazon

Me Too! Preschool Poetry

Read a Preview

Buy at Amazon 

Adult Books:  [Paperback or Kindle]

Anatomy of a Poet

Read a Preview

Buy at Amazon

Bits and Pieces from a Writer's Soul

Read an Excerpt

Buy at Amazon

Merry Christmas!  

~Hugs from CJ


“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

The Night Before Nuptials: by Rick Turton

The Night Before Nuptials

The Night Before Nuptials

by Rick Turton

‘Twas the night before Nuptials,

And all through the house;

There was cursing and screaming

And fires to douse.

The tuxes were hung

In the closet with care;

In hopes of no wrinkles

And the dog sheds no hair.

The couple was nestled

All snuggled together;

Now, stop that you two!

[There’s time for that later].

The children were debating

This much is true;

Do we really have to do this?

So much left to do.

Should we elope or

Perhaps run away?

There’s much left to do;

For THIS wedding day!

With skinny ‘ol Mama

All dressed to the nines

And pudgy ‘ol Papa

Just waiting to dine.

Away from our TV‘s

We flew like a flash!

We should be getting ready

For our big bash!

When out on the lawn,

There arose such a clatter!

I sprang from my chair;

Lost control of my bladder!

When what to my wondering

Eyes should appear?

But family and friends

From far and from near.

There’s Steve & Mary Ann and

There’s Guido, you see.

Their presence would be missed

On that we agree.

Margo and Hanna,

And oh, look! There is Marty!

Came to join us

At this here massive party!

David, & Carolyn,

Scott & Jason too!

Cousin Margaret and Nathan

They know what to do!

There’s Ray, & there’s Hugh,

Shirley, Mike & Aunt Ellen!

All come to see,

What it is that we’re sellin’!

Veggie plates they’re making,

And dips just for you!

More rapid that eagles,

Their knives how they flew!

They went right to work

This I could not dread

Everything’s getting done…

So I’m off to bed!

The party winds down,

Like logs on the fire

But our only hope, is that your

Love will get brighter.

There are just two more thoughts

I’d like to leave with you.

Two pearls of wisdom,

In sight of this crew.

If you work real hard and

Love one another,

You two can be married

For as long as his Mother!

The next time we visit,

This much will be true:

We’ll be the feared in-laws…

But then ... so will you!

Rick Turton

Rick Turton
Vietnam 1970-1971

Other posts by Rick:

Poetry: by Vietnam Vet Rick Turton






“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

A Senior Christmas Poem

Christmas at Rock-Away-Rest

I'm not making fun of seniors ...

I AM a senior.






A SENIOR CHRISTMAS POEM

~Author Unknown~

T'was the night before Christmas at Rock-A-Way Rest,
and all of us seniors were looking our best.
Our glasses, how sparkly, our smiles, oh how merry;
our punch bowl held prune juice, plus three drops of sherry.

Support hose were taped to our walkers in hope,
that Santa would bring us soft candies and soap.
We surely were lucky to be there with friends,
secure in our residence and our Depends.

Some of our grandkids sent Christmassy crafts,
like angels in snowsuits or penguins on rafts.
The dental assistant here borrowed our teeth.
From them she crafted our holiday wreath.

The bed pans, so shiny, all stood in a row,
reflecting our candles in a magnificent glow.
Our supper was festive, the joy wouldn't stop,
with creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.

Fruit salad with Jello, all jiggly and great,
and puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate.
The social director then let us play games,
like "Where do You Live?" and "What Are Your Names?"

Old Mr. Looper was feeling his oats,
proclaiming that reindeer were just fancy goats.
Our resident wanderer was tied to her chair,
with hopes that at bedtime she still would be there.

Security lights on the new fallen snow
made night look like day to us old folks below.
Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter
(But we're all so deaf that it just didn't matter).

A strange little fellow then flew through the door.
He tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor.
T'was just the director, all togged out in red,
who giggled and chuckled and patted each head.

We knew from the way that he strutted and jived
that our social security checks had arrived.
We sang and we hummed in our monotone croak,
till finally the clock chimed its 8 p.m. stroke.

And soon we were snuggled again in our beds,
while the nurses distributed our nocturnal meds.
And so ends our Christmas at Rock-A-Way Rest.
'fore long you'll be with us ... we wish you the best!

“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

"All About That Bass": by Meghan Trainor

This post is dedicated to (all of us) women who have been conditioned by society since childhood to strive for a Barbie Doll body ... and feel like failures over a few extra pounds ... enjoy! ~CJ

"All About That Bass" (Lyrics)

by Meghan Trainor

Because you know
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass

Yeah, it's pretty clear, I ain't no size two
But I can shake it, shake it
Like I'm supposed to do
'Cause I got that boom boom that all the boys chase
And all the right junk in all the right places

I see the magazine workin' that Photoshop
We know that shit ain't real
C'mon now, make it stop
If you got beauty, beauty, just raise 'em up
'Cause every inch of you is perfect
From the bottom to the top

Yeah, my mama she told me don't worry about your size
She says, "Boys like a little more booty to hold at night."
You know I won't be no stick figure silicone Barbie doll
So if that's what you're into then go ahead and move along

Because you know I'm
All about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass
Hey!

I'm bringing booty back
Go ahead and tell them skinny bitches that
No, I'm just playing. I know you think you're fat
But I'm here to tell ya
Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top

Yeah my mama she told me don't worry about your size
She says, "Boys like a little more booty to hold at night."
You know I won't be no stick figure silicone Barbie doll
So if that's what you're into then go ahead and move along

Because you know I'm
All about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass

Because you know I'm
All about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass

Because you know I'm
All about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass, no treble
I'm all about that bass
'Bout that bass
'Bout that bass, 'bout that bass
Hey, hey, ooh
You know you like this bass

“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

Children's Christmas Poem: "Dear Santa ..."

Santa Checking his List ...

Here we are, with three weeks left until Christmas and yet it has been here since Halloween ...

Will Christmas and everything surrounding it be stale for children by the 25th of December?

As I was out grocery shopping the other day, I was hit by the sheer commercialism Christmas has become.

How sad for the children. Can they still believe in Christmas when they've had trees, lights, sales, decorations, and Santas everywhere for two long months? How can they remain excited?  Where has all the magic gone?

It was so much simpler for children years ago, when the Christmas season didn't actually arrive until around December 1.

The excitement built in a steady crescendo:  school vacation, snow and sledding, to the magical Christmas Eve, with the reading of "The Night Before Christmas", hanging stockings, and setting out the traditional cookies and milk for Santa ... oh, and I almost forgot!  A plate of carrots for the reindeer.

I remember being urged at the beginning of December to make my wish list and Mama would send it to Santa at the North Pole. Then as a family, we would begin shopping for gifts.

I remember the whole family would pile in the station wagon to head to the woods so we could cut down our tree -- and everyone helped to decorate it, because there were ONLY a couple of weeks left until Christmas.

There was never time for Christmas to become stale. Heck, we always had just enough time to get everything done ... if we hurried.

I dedicate this poem to children who wonder about the commercialism and who still think of others first ...

Dear Santa ...

by CJ Heck

Dear Santa,
You always bring me many things,
my little sister, too,
things we love to play with,
so many things to do.

I see you in big limos
waving at us in parades.
I see you in the shopping malls
and even in arcades.

I see you on the corners
where you're ringing little bells.
I see you talking on TV
advertising big hotels.

It makes me start to wonder
if you're really, really there,
or are you just too busy now
with all those things to care?

See, I have a best friend, Tommy,
and I'm sending his address,
so this year you won't miss his house,
'cause Tommy, he's the best.

Please, Santa, take some time off
from those other things you do
and this year visit Tommy's house?
He needs some presents, too.


[From the book, "Barking Spiders and Other Such Stuff", by CJ Heck]

“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

Christmas Short Story: "Christmas at Mel's"

Mel's

by CJ Heck

"How beautiful a day can be when kindness touches it." ~George Elliston

A broken neon sign flashed "Mel’s" on top of a small seedy bar on the edge of town.

The air inside was heavy with stale smoke and beer, blending faintly with the odor of dried spit on unclean bodies.

Sadie sat at a small table alone pondering the world and its problems, two drinks past actually seeing beyond the unkempt nails she drummed nervously on the chipped Formica in front of her. The lines in her face were knit as if by a palsied hand dropping stitches here and there, where a pox scar decided to roost.

For Sadie, this was home -- at least until tonight’s john, (with an empty glass and full libido), swaggered up and invited her to the nearest no-tell motel.

Life sucks -- but it was her life.

Feeling in control, a spider in her web, Sadie threw back another drink and waited.

The hours passed and Sadie slumped in the chair at her favorite table at Mel's.

Sadie

With each drink, the world's problems faded further and she was finally only mildly aware that she had more than enough of her own.

Merry Christmas. Yeah, yeah, so what? Sadie asked indignantly, as she counted the empty glasses lined up in front of her on the table.

Seven. Nice. Rhymes with heaven. How 'bout that -- as if I'll ever be there.  They prob'ly don't let people like me in a ritzy place like that.

Sadie pushed the thought away as she studied the half empty glass that was still in her hand with the same intensity a demented gypsy might, upon watching her favorite crystal ball suddenly deflate.

It was late and she was tired.  The lines in her face met in an intricate pattern just above her penciled brows as she pondered her situation through the booze fog.

Damn Mel -- and damn his twinkle lights. The damn things hurt my eyes. Friggin' barkeep had to put twinkle lights in here, as if anyone wants to see the graffiti better, she cackled to herself.

Sadie watched as the room with its new holiday lights blinked first red, then green, then yellow through the gently swirling smoke.

She threw back the rest of her drink. It made her want to puke, that's what it did. Who the hell cares if it's Christmas Eve?  Every day's the same to me, she thought. I'm just a workin' girl tryin' to make a buck.

Bad enough, everywhere you go, bells are ringin' on every corner, music blastin' outta radios, snow and slush in every step you take, and all that fancy decoratin' to remind you, you're friggin' alone.

Merry Christmas ... yeah, Mer-ry Christ-my-ass!  Cash registers are ringin' big time, too, Sadie thought, with a bitter smile.

Damn, business was slow this time of year. Every john she knew was prob'ly home playing Santy Claus with the kiddies and Husband Of The Year with the wife. What a joke, she thought.

What they really want, I give 'em.  What they really need, I give 'em. They're all the same. What a friggin' joke, she thought ... yeah, only the joke's on me.  I'm the one sittin' and waitin' in a blinkin-stinkin' hellhole by m'self.

Sadie set empty glass number eight at the end of the line on the table and raised a finger at the barkeep for another. Waiting was a bitch.

Just then, a shadow fell through the swirling smoke to settle eerily on Sadie's table. It was strangely blinking in mixed colors through the empty glasses in front of her.

Surprised, she looked up to see one of her regulars standing there. (Finally, she thought to herself, and 'bout time, too). Already a plan had formed in her mind to do him fast and then get some shut-eye. She gave the john her best crimson smile.

The man leaned down, handed Sadie a folded bill, and with a sad smile he said, "Go home, Sadie. This one's on me, and ... and well, M-Merry Christmas to you."

Then he turned and walked back through the swirled, blinking smoke to the door and the street beyond, with Sadie staring slack-jawed at the door closing slowly behind him.

Damn, if that don't beat all, Sadie thought, as she unfolded the fifty dollar bill.

Then she scooted her chair back, pushed herself away from the table, and for the first time in years, Sadie's face softened into a genuine smile.


(From the Book, "Bits and Pieces", by CJ Heck)



“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

Ben Stein's Commentary on Christmas

Ben Stein

Apparently the White House referred to Christmas Trees as "Holiday" Trees for the first time this year, which prompted CBS presenter, Ben Stein, to present this piece which I would like to share with you.

The following was written by Ben Stein and recited by him on CBS Sunday Morning Commentary:



My confession:

I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish. And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejewelled trees, Christmas trees. I don't feel threatened. I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are, Christmas trees.

It doesn't bother me a bit when people say, 'Merry Christmas' to me. I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact, I kind of like it. It shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach house in Malibu. If people want a nativity scene, it's just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.

I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the concept came from, that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in the Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat.

Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship celebrities and we aren't allowed to worship God? I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too. But there are a lot of us who are wondering where these celebrities came from and where the America we knew went to.

In light of the many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different: This is not intended to be a joke; it's not funny, it's intended to get you thinking.

Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her, 'How could God let something like this happen?' (regarding Hurricane Katrina).

Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response. She said, 'I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives.And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?'

In light of recent events... terrorist attacks, school shootings, etc. I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found a few years ago) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK. Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school. The Bible says thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK.

Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave, because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about. And we said okay.

Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.

Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with 'WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.'

Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell.

Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says.

Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing.

Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.

[Are you laughing yet?]

Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it.

Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us.

Pass it on if you think it has merit.

If not, then just discard it.... no one will know you did. But, if you discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what a bad shape the world is in.

My Best Regards, Honestly and respectfully,
Ben Stein

[I couldn't agree more, Ben Stein.  Thank you! ~CJ Heck]



“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

Christmas - An "Over" Time...

Christmas "Over" Time ...

I've found that time has a way of getting away from me, the older I get.

It seems like only yesterday I carefully packed away the Christmas ornaments and decorations, the outside wreaths, and swept up the last of the pine needles.

Is it just me, or do you feel it, too?

I've only just turned the calendar page to December and yesterday I saw Santa Claus in front of the grocery, houses with outdoor Christmas lights ... and Robert and I still have pumpkin pie from Thanksgiving in our fridge.

I don't know.  These last few years, the Christmas season seems to arrive on, or about, the day after Halloween.

It's almost scary how the malls put up their Christmas lights and decorations increasingly early to entice us, knowing full well our propensity for holiday nostalgia and overindulgence.  The stores all order abundantly, striving for hefty holiday sales -- and an even heftier bottom line at year’s end.

It's sad that Christmas has become such an “over” time. We over-spend, over-eat, over-party, and end up trying to fit God -- the reason there IS Christmas -- in between over-abundant holiday schedules and over-long gift lists.

Seems the only thing we don’t overdo is helping the less fortunate by dropping a few extra coins in the bucket when we see Santa’s helpers ringing bells around town.

Please don’t misunderstand. Anyone who knows me, knows Christmas is my favorite time of year. I get all swept up in the nostalgia and the warm and fuzzies -- I just can’t help myself.

Every year, I watch the classic Christmas movies.  I cry as I watch The Gathering.  I laugh (until I cry) at Chevy Chase in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, and I think Barbara Stanwyck is hilarious in Christmas in Connecticut.  We all love Jimmy Stewart in It‘s a Wonderful Life, and Christmas just wouldn’t be complete without Irving Berlin’s White Christmas. 

However, this year, I vow to try even harder to remember and celebrate Christmas for it’s true meaning.

I’m going to focus my ‘over’ time on the people I care most about, those who care most about me, and those who have never had a visit from Santa Claus.

Oh, and the only bottom line I’m going to be concerned with is the one I sit on ... and I sure as heck don’t want that one to get any bigger ...


“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck