Christmas lights are well known for faulty wiring

A little over a week ago a terrorist suicide bomber attempted to explode a bomb strapped to his body as he went through the crowded New York subway system near Times Square. While the bomb attempt did injure a few people and did not kill him, luckily a faulty wire failed to trigger the full impact of his homemade device and no lives were lost.
An observant Betterhalf after seeing the newscast said, “The bomber must not have been very smart. I could have told him the bomb wasn’t going to work.”
Foolishly I asked her, “Why?”
She explained that the wire he used to hopefully detonate the bomb was wire from Christmas tree lights. The Betterhalf then continued, “From my experience with my Christmas lights I have found about 50 percent of the lights fail shortly after I get them on the tree and the cause is from faulty wiring.”
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One Christmas tradition continues and appears never to change. Watching people at the toy counters we have come to the conclusion there are no adults, just children of varying ages. All are intrigued with toys.
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Christmas shopping is not as much fun as it once was. We have no wee ones in our clan anymore and it is tough trying to find a special Christmas gift particularly for the grandkids who are a near-teenager, teenager, or adults. Video games might be the answer for a couple of them, but I don’t understand the complexity of such games and besides it irritates me to see young’uns having their faces buried in a screen. The young adults are the easiest to shop for. They would rather have a monetary check. So this year it was checks to all four grandkids -- young or old.
I solved the problem of gifting for the Betterhalf. An early Christmas came to her when she picked out a new stove with features I don’t understand.
   My gifting actually proved pretty smart even when I was apprehensive about buying a “working gift” for her kitchen. Since installing the gift we now have an early abundance of Christmas cookies, candies and other goodies. The “abundance” had one downfall. I’ve put on additional pounds and Christmas hasn’t even arrived!
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Summing up this column, the Betterhalf and I want to wish you a “Merry Christmas” and don’t forget the real meaning of the season.
RL Furse  is publisher emeritus of the News-Register

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