Christmas and its true meaning but master writer and marketer dr. jeffrey lant nov 23, 2012 black friday

Christmas and its true meaning but master writer and marketer Dr. Jeffrey Lant Nov 23, 2012 Black Friday

Preface / Introduction

The Christmas Memories of past and present a collection of stories in my series of articles about the
true meaning of Christmas.
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Table of Contents
1. 'It's not beginning to look a lot like Christmas,' yet, but it IS time to start planning.
2. 'God rest you merry, gentlemen'. At my home that means preparing everything for the visit of the
Prince of Peace. It's a true labor of love.
3. First Christmas away from home. Paris. 1967.


'It's not beginning to look a lot like Christmas,' yet, but it IS
time to start planning.
by Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Author's program note. I knew what the response would be when I played the classic "It's Beginning
To Look A Lot Like Christmas" yesterday for all the horrified folks in the Live Business Center, but
it was even better than I hoped for ... universal moans, groans, and expostulations that all meant,
"Dr. Lant, you can't be serious!" Nobody thanked me for my concern about making this year's
holiday season the smoothest ever because it would be the best planned ever.
I mean, you want to avoid the chaos and confusion that distinguished your efforts last year, right?
And you definitely want to avoid the acute Last-Minute- I-Tis that seems to occur every single year,
right? Well, I'm here in my role as Santa's Little Helper to make this dream come true.
"Are you sure you're not jumping the gun just a little?"
Unless you're a bona fide Christmas freak (and they do exist) you think of this most important
holiday of the year not with happy expectations but rather with dread and apprehension,
remembering what can go wrong because of all the things that have gone wrong in years past; some
of them certifiable doozies like the time you "forgot" to get that "little something" for your much
loved mother-in-law. That kind of faux pas can never occur if you follow the instructions I'm about
to give you. And that alone makes your attention now worth it.
1) Plan, don't just think about planning. Planning means just that. Sit down at your computer, open a
new file and brainstorm all the categories you must have and master to ensure the best possible
result. If your plan is complete and thorough and if you master it, you are going to have a superior
event. Guaranteed. Otherwise it'll be catch as catch can. That can be memorable, of course, but in all
the wrong ways.
2) Review what happened last year. Christmas is about traditions, but one tradition you want to
exclude is muddle. What really worked last year? What did people like... what did YOU like... and
what left a mess, even bad feelings? The earlier you walk through what happened, why it happened
and (where applicable) why it better not happen again, the better.
3) Select a tune that gets you in the Christmas mood, even when you most assuredly are not. I like
Der Bingle's version of "It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas" written by Meredith Wilson
in 1951. It works on even the most hardened Grinch. I know. I'm one.
4) Brainstorm all the people you want to gratify with a gift. Be expansive. The idea when
brainstorming is to jot down possibilities. Evaluation and exclusion are not part of this initial
process. Thinking broadly and without limits is.
5) Now prioritize. Who MUST get something (think mother-in-law) because the consequences of
not giving are too horrible to consider... and who would it be nice to give something, but not
necessary? Prioritizing is crucial... unless you have more money than God, although it's rumored
that even His pockets are not so deep as usual after our punk year.
Avoid the "January Hangover".
Many overly jolly holiday givers wake up in January owing a bundle that's sure to make all the
merry gentlemen dismay. Planning is crucial here.
6) Budget. First, estimate how much money you want to spend. Then look at last year's bills.

http://www.HomeProfitCoach.com Copyright Howard Martell - 2012 4 of 13


Scrutinize them closely. Was the amount you spent before easy to pay... or did it leave you broke,
under a pile of debt? There are two keys here:
First, determine your budget, then resolve this year not just to live within that budget, but to cover
most if not all of your expenses with cash on hand, not credit. What! You're thinking that's
positively un-American. You're right... paying up front for Christmas expenses IS un-American, and
that's a very good thing. This means determining how much you can afford to spend as determined
by how much you can put away prior to December 15, then saving and spending accordingly. This
will save you a lot of grief and lamentation in January.
Shop early.
Right now as I'm writing Christmas is still about 100 days away. No rush to shop, right? That
depends on whether you want distinctive gifts... or whether any old gift will do. For all that I'm a
Grinch of unmatched performance, I make it a point to give gifts of thoughtful consideration only.
No mere "gift" will do. For me, this means scouting the catalogs of the world's major auction houses,
places like Sotheby's, Christie's, Dorotheum, etc. I never have any trouble finding things of beauty
and rarity, even if sticker shock comes along with it, especially fine jewelry. Every auction house in
the world has special bijoux sales before Christmas with eye- popping bling. You'd be surprised at
the bargains available for the diamonds which are always a girl's best friend.
Important note: if you take advantage of this recommendation, remember that things you purchase at
such auctions may and very likely will need restoration and professional TLC before being given,
not to mention adequate time for packing and shipping. Make generous delivery estimates
accordingly.
Plan for the "little people."
My life works because of all the so-called "little people" who assist, help, organize and, I admit,
coddle me. It takes many such people providing a plethora of such services to make my life work.
All must be remembered at Christmas, but how to do it without breaking the bank?
With me, Trader Joe's is the answer; specifically their unmatched for the price liquor department. It
takes just one trip purchasing just two cases of fine wine and sherry to solve the problem. Then all I
have to do is write ("For Aime") on my business card and tape it on the bottle. Voila, I have a gift
that never fails to please, especially if they didn't expect to be remembered. And thus my status as a
"good fellow" is secured for another year and so is their good service on which I so rely.
Check your lights and ornaments well before you need them.
One of the season's habitual frustrations is ensuring you have all the lights and ornaments you need
before you have to have them. Finding out you don't have them is a major hassle in December; just a
minor glitch in September. Thus review what you've got early. Then shop online to order what you
need; you can do this any day of the year by searching on the item you want. That's the sensible,
inexpensive, cool, calm and collected way to do it.
Wither goest thou?
Are you traveling this year? Air fares are up which means planning is even more necessary. Here's
where the online discount travel services come in. The earlier you consult and use them, the better
the deals. Just remember, once you've booked these specials, there is always a penalty for change or
cancellation.
Now sit back and enjoy the holidays.
I have seen 64 Christmases so far, this year my 65th and it has long seemed to me that too many



people are too harassed to enjoy them. If you follow the directions in this article carefully and
thoroughly, you will savor and enjoy them, perhaps for the first time in years. And that may be the
biggest gift of all.



'God rest you merry, gentlemen'. At my home that means
preparing everything for the visit of the Prince of Peace. It's
a true labor of love.
By Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Author's program note. Please note the date: Saturday October 13 for this is the opening of the
Christmas preparation season for 2012. Archeologists and cultural historians will be grateful to me
in years hence when they get their government grants and write their learned tomes about the whys
and wherefores of Christmas in this our particular era. Yes, I say they will be glad to have each
salient fact, observation and deduction gathered by yours truly and herewith shared with the world.
For we are talking about the most joyous event of the Christian year, Christmas, and its preparations,
staggering for some, meagre and tardy for others, but all acknowledging that this is and continues to
be an event of significance to each of us.
How was October 13 selected as the commencement date for this event? Easy! It was the first day
when your observant author was assailed by not one but a series of "the Christmas season has
commenced" portents, signs which might easily be dismissed were there but one or even two, but
which in their concerted numbers make it clear that the great count-down to Christmas, with its
traditions, meanings, songs, poems, foods, displays, sentiments, travels, resolutions, friends,
observances has now commenced in earnest and for the next 71days until the day itself your life will
be affected, influenced, shaped and to a greater or lesser extent determined by what our fellow
travelers do or don't do, buy or don't buy, wear, stand in line, decorate... or don't wear, stand in line,
or decorate.
In other words, because of the birth of a child you may or may not believe was the Son of God your
life and all its prosaic concerns and tasks will be hi-jacked; weeks of your life will be less yours,
significantly influenced and directed by others you don't know, will never meet, but who are
nonetheless powers over you, determined you should listen to them... or else.
The first portents.
The thing about portents, that is a clue to future occurrences, is that they must for maximum impact
take you completely unaware. One moment you're doing such and such a task; considering such and
such a thing; talking about such and such a topic. Then the portent arrives, preferably delivered by
one or more appropriate gods of Olympus, all of whom seem to traffic in the dicey business of
portents, omens, divinations, and auguries. The portent (often obscure and therefore more amusing to
its deity deliverer) having arrived, pushes other quotidian topics to the bottom of your
consciousness, pulling out the rug on what you were focused on a moment ago and substituting
quite a different agenda.
Yesterday, October 13 mind, these portents arrived thick and fast; itself a sign that a seismic moment
had arrived; actung! stop what you're doing and pay attention. And unless you're that hapless noodle
the bored and therefore capricious gods have determined to make even more hapless and miserable,
you do pay attention. Thus does your life cease to be as much yours as it was just a moment before.
The gods know this, but they have kept this insightful observation for their own delectation and
benefit ere now. They wouldn't dream of imparting this intelligence to you; "free will" for humans
being one of the most potent and popular of their shrewd devices for controlling the not so sapiens
homo.
Let me make one thing clear, for sharing this with you I shall be persona non grata at Olympus
tonight, for if mankind knew just how little true freedom their gods have allowed us, there would be



tonight, for if mankind knew just how little true freedom their gods have allowed us, there would be
such a revolution as has never been even imagined before, much less consummated. And the gods
would surely have to make concessions, or they would never regain exalted position and control...
and what would their excellencies do then to amuse themselves at our expense?
What is your portent saying?
Portents must be clear but capable of complete misunderstanding. In other words, when reviewing
an event that could be a portent, two reasonably intelligent people must be capable of drawing two
dramatically different conclusions, for a portent is not a directive... not a declaration... if it were the
gods would be most unhappy... for if their signs could be so easily read by everyone the muddles
beloved of these ancient deities would cease and the gods who already have to wrestle with the
matter that is eternity...would fall into even deeper despair; for they already have too little to do and
far too much time in which to do it. Remember, their irritation, ennui and pique become the basis for
our misery. No wonder they don't want us to know.
Christmas portents by the hour.
The gods realize humans are short sighted, careless, capable of massive confusions and
misunderstandings. Thus, the game becomes determining the precise formula that will give us clues
(but not too many) and insight (but not too much). Even the Olympian gods are not born knowing
these things; they must learn. And they do so at our expense, for what are we humans for if not to
provide the wherewithal for their education and expertise? We are just so many lab rats to divinity.
Nice work if you can get it.
Store sightings, catalogs, email.
The first shop in my neighborhood to deck the halls was the smoking shop in Harvard Square. Given
the fact that teen-age smoking has dropped dramatically; thereby proving that even heedless
adolescents can get the message if we adults have the patience and deliberation to beat them about
the head with it.
As a result, the revenues at the smoking shop have most probably dropped... whilst their
Harvard-charged rent has undoubtedly done the reverse. It is therefore obvious why they want to
weigh in with a cheery seasonable greeting and display. "Give the gift of cancer."
Even the most knowledgeable of advertising executives might think twice before taking on this
daunting account. Still, there they are, hoping that the dwindling number of young smokers will
purchase their diminished life span from them, especially if they can do so in the name of Jesus, who
promised the eternal life the smoking shop is doing so much to curtail. Cool.
Catalog temptation (and ease) by mail and the 'net.
Stores like the smoking shop need to lure you into their premises as early as possible before
Christmas; their continuing survival depends on it. But catalogs live to remind you how difficult and
irksome store shopping is in the age of catalogs and 'net. Simply mentioning the invading hordes, the
unending lines, the harassed staff, the parking difficulties is usually enough to tip the scales to
catalog shopping online and off. That persuaded me. As a result the last several years such shopping
constitutes all my shopping.
The problem is the proliferation of mail-order Christmas catalogs, especially after you become a
proven buyer. Then you may expect to hear from each catalog at least 3-4 times before their last
frenzied promotion, hitting about December 15. All prophesy consumer distress if you fail to ACT
NOW, visit their website and ORDER!



But here the retail stores re-emerge as they reap the considerable advantages deriving from
procrastinators like you. At this point you will most assuredly wish you had heeded their October
warning. You will pledge to do better next year. You won't, of course. And so you'll keep your name
on every list; a portent of things to come, especially purchases you're sure to make. They know that,
even if you don't.
Polishing the silver.
In my house there is one certain activity that indicates the coming of Christmas. That is polishing the
silver. It is a very time-consuming task, taking a couple of days. Mercedes Joseph, so giving and
warm in all her aspects, will take these traits and leave the silver burnished into eye-popping
radiance. It's a significant part of our invitation to the Prince of Peace, an invitation that will see us
clambering up step ladders to clean the chandeliers in all the rooms to ensure that all is brilliant and
every facet sparkles. So that there is not a single molecule of tracked in dirt or bunched carpet. We
work hard to make it perfect; we work early and late to make it perfect... and we do it all because of
the advent of this harbinger of our salvation; because we will do it, not because anyone tells us what
to do or oversees our efforts, evaluating what we do.
We do it, because this is Christmas and the greatest gift we give is our voluntary adherence and a
belief that starts in our hearts and has no ending whatsoever.
That is why October 13, I awoke to the strains of my favorite carol running through my head, "God
rest you merry, gentlemen/Let nothing you dismay", first released in 1760. In an instant I find Bing
Crosby's 1945 version; then in a search engine one other version after another, including a rendition
by "Barenaked Ladies" (2004). Only the very young can find the sniggering humor in such
sophomoric nomenclature, but today I don't care.
For you see, every off key note I sing proves that I have become a portent myself of the great event
en route "For Jesus Christ our Savior/Was born upon this Day", and we rejoice in the Good News
passed from me and mine, to you and yours, to a burdened world which needs "tidings of comfort
and joy, comfort and joy", the true meaning of Christmas and why we gentlemen and gentlewomen
rest merry and shall remain so long past the day and season itself.



First Christmas away from home. Paris. 1967.
by Dr. Jeffrey Lant.
Author's program note. Today is the day I sign up to receive Social Security. It will be a day when
low level bureaucrats will prod me, asking questions they already know the answers to, all designed
to prove (or not) that I am the Jeffrey Ladd Lant born 66 years ago in Illinois, into a time and
situation which now only exist in my imagination.
I wonder whether the clerk will smile or even look at me when the inevitable queries are asked? I'm
not counting on it, for they see a generation advancing to old age, while I consider only myself. I
want human contact but will have to do with "sign here" and get the money.
And so, under the circumstances you will understand that I need something quite different; a kind of
cosmic pick-me-up composed of equal portions of youth, energy, hope and optimism, all things in
shorter supply today, here and now, than then. I need Paris. Since you probably do, too, let me share
some with you.... the better to remember and pass a kindred moment when not a single word is
required or expected.
"I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles".
For me, only one song would do for the musical accompaniment to this article; Cole Porter's
seductive tune "I Love Paris". It debued in 1953, in the film "Can- Can" and like so many of Porter's
haunting melodies it immediately touched the soul of the world; in this case setting us to recall the
bittersweet memories of a youth that can only be tapped infrequently, so powerful is even the
smallest part.
I like Ella Fitzgerald's rendition about "this timeless town". It cuts to the heart... and does with you
what it will... just like love itself. You'll find this bijoux in any search engine. Go now and play it...
again... and again... and again. If it's cold and misty outside and the memories come thick and fast,
you are ready for what follows.
Paris, destiny.
In 1967, I was the luckiest 20-year-old in the world. Though the Great Republic was at war, gravely
divided by whether we should have more of it or less, I was going to Poland for my Christmas
holidays. Now as all the world knows, the way to Warsaw most assuredly goes through Paris, at
least in my atlas. Thus I found myself for the first time in the City of Light at the best possible time
in life to be there, that is to say whatever time you are there; in my case December,1967 just a few
days before Christmas.
My trip, hurriedly arranged which is to say (in the way of young men) not arranged at all, came
about because of a notice hung on the campus bulletin board at the University of St. Andrews in
Scotland, where I was spending, and happily too, my junior year abroad. It promised high times and
hijinx in Zakopane, the site of the Eastern Bloc's 1967 Winter Olympics. The trip was sponsored by
the Young Pioneers, Communism's equivalent of the "Best and the Brightest." The cost could be
scrapped together and was just affordable at just about a hundred quid.
Of course we wouldn't tell parents where it was we were going, much less under whose auspices.
Bright young men seek to shield the 'rents from any inkling that they might have had, were having,
or would have a "good time." That was always the best possible course, especially where
Communists... and Paris, mind... were involved.
Paris first.



Our trip to Poland was to have begun in London where we were to meet the tour guide and
organizer. He had been a Tory candidate for Parliament in the last General Election; time now hung
heavy while he waited impatiently for his next chance at greatness. Like most young, ambitious,
aspiring Conservatives he didn't believe in much of anything; principles, you see, get in the way of
success. It was always better not to have too many or to believe them too seriously.
As a result our guide, youthful, good looking and unscrupulous was excellent company and game for
anything. It's a pity I've forgotten his name... he's undoubtedly a retired cabinet minister now, full of
sage advice and pompous aphorisms... the Right Honourable the (first) Baron Twitsbee-on-Thames.
Such a man, of course, approved our traveling to Paris first, meeting up with the group later,
pleasurably fatigued as men of the world would most assuredly be at that point. He undoubtedly
wished us luck... and winked, salaciously.
And so I went to Paris -- and to a passionate embrace which has never ended.
Every true Parisian believes there is Paris... and then there is everything else. There is no known
antidote to this belief. Once in Paris, walking the Champs Elysee, you are glad it is so. No antidote
desired; none imaginable. And that's as it should be. So I came to see that Paris was not merely a
place... but an idea, a dream, a journey, a vision and where, in grander style and sureness of touch,
there was a better me waiting for the ordinary me to arrive.
Le beau coup.
I remember everything about those days... no detail too small or inconsequential. Paris is like that,
transforming even the slightest of matters into Events, primed with Significance. Paris is, after all,
the greatest mise-en-scene on Earth, a place where you find yourself, see yourself as larger than life,
mesmerizing, captivating, the very person you have always wanted to be... and now are, to the
gratification of self and the satisfying envy of the folks back home.
No other city on Earth, no other place at all holds such power, such magic, and so you, like
Josephine Baker sing this: "J'ai deux amours. Mon pais et Paris"; you are suddenly, unmistakably, to
your complete bliss a boulevardier au fait with everything in this place which now forever holds a
piece of your heart and means to keep it forever with fierce possession.
And so it started in a boulangerie within moments of arrival. I ordered a baguette... and thanked the
proprietor for... her beau coup. "O, monsieur," she said, just for a moment no longer of a "certain
age" but young again, with gracious curves well worth the seeing. She patted her haunch, she
giggled, she pointed "O monsieur, c'est le beau coup". I had made her happy. It was a portent of
other happy encounters to come.
"Is this what I think it's for?"
Later that day, I stood with Mark Morris at the ticket counter of the Opera, Baron Haussmann's great
creation begun in1861, a venue fit for God Himself to make music. We barely had enough for two
tickets high up in the rafters and needed to count it twice over to be sure of even that.. but there was
something about us, two acolytes butchering la belle langue determined to worship everything we
saw, that touched the heart of the woman ticket seller.
"Voila'," she said, an empress dispensing largesse. And so we came to possess a box at the Opera for
the evening's performance, compliments of a Parisienne determined to turn by a graceful touch the
quotidian into a lifetime's happy memory.
Everything was new, notable, marvelous.. including how two young men of decidedly limited
means, dressed just a shade better than tatterdemalions had their box unlocked for them, then locked



again with them inside. And of how they soon discovered a ceramic pot on the floor festooned with
the grandiloquent "N"s of the master who ordered such monumental awe and splendor. Yes, it was
used... and so the customs of Paris turned the most natural function into art and protocol.
Last night, first visit. Venite adoremus. Notre Seigneur et Sauveur.
No young person wants to slow down the pace of time. Speed, not savor, is always their order of the
day. But then comes Paris and the dawning fear one has too little time, hardly any time at all to enjoy
each thing, every thing. And so youth comes to know a secret of age: that the best lived life is
patient, paced, distinguished by care not merely celerity. Thus one grows and matures, another of
Paris' insights and benedictions.
And so in my final hours of what I vowed must be the first of many visits, I made my way near
midnight to one of man's great achievements, Notre Dame. I went as a curiosity seeker, for I was,
after all, the son of Puritans who would decry my very presence at such a Romish place.
But God was present that night, and I knew why men of vision had dreamed this place and worked
so hard to achieve it. Here was a place where one might look for and even find sanctity, belief,
peace, and be touched by the greatest light that shown that night in the City of Light. And it was
good. I sang the words of the great hymn -- "Venite adoremus" -- with conviction... Notre Seigneur
et Sauveur.
And then it was over. I was, in the middle of this Christmas night, en route by rail to Poland via
Belgium enraptured by the greatest reason for loving Paris, the reason found in the last line of Cole
Porter's great tune....



Resource
About the Author Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide
range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Services include home business
training, affiliate marketing training, earn-at-home programs, traffic tools, advertising, webcasting,
hosting, design, WordPress Blogs and more. Find out why Worldprofit is considered the # 1 online
Home Business Training program by getting a free Associate Membership today.
Republished with author's permission by Howard Martell http://HomeProfitCoach.com.


Christmas and its true meaning but master writer and marketer dr. jeffrey lant nov 23, 2012 black friday

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Christmas and its true meaning but master writer and marketer dr. jeffrey lant nov 23, 2012 black friday