Rainey Blogs on Some Days

A few years ago in December, we went to see a play called “ No Child ” at the Barrow Street Theatre in Greenwich Village in New York City. After it was over, we were walking to the car and saw Jesus walking his dog, a Dalmatian. I was surprised to see Jesus in Greenwich Village, let alone with a Dalmatian. I would have thought Jesus would have had a collie or chocolate Labrador. Oh, it was him alright. I’ve seen enough pictures of Jesus to know him when I see him. Most celebrities wear dark sunglasses and try to hide their identity, but not Jesus. He was out in the open for all to see, walking his dog . . .  in Greenwhich Village! Go figure.

Enough said.

I think this is self-explanatory.

"Happy Holidays!" the store clerk announced as John Thunderburk picked up his wife's pantsuit that had been hung on a hanger and covered by a red, plastic Macy’s bag. He started to walk away from the counter to go home to be with his family on Christmas Eve, but something bothered him. The sermons at his church about keeping Christ in Christmas and how Christmas’ continued evolution toward a secular holiday were getting to him. He felt he had to take a stand and defend Christian family values. He was edgy, irritable, because the whole world seemed to be turning Christmas into a mere winter holiday. "Merry CHRIST-mas!" John shouted as he walked away from the sales clerk—giving the word “Christ” a little extra emphasis to show her he meant business—and then began mumbling mostly under his breath. "Can't you just say, 'Merry Christmas'? Or since we're working for a big corporation, we have to say something generic so as to not affect the stoc