We have a tradition of sending friends, clients, and others Christmas gifts of coffee and original art. One year it was linocuts. Another year it was potato prints. A couple years ago we sent “art kits” and let our client create art for a competition.

Well, not to tip our hand or anything, but this year we invited our friend Carl Blair over to oversee our creation of some original works. Everybody worked on the process that resulted in a bunch of cool art. Of course the Carl’s demonstration pieces were the best. He actually gave us one, which may end up in the hands of a lucky client or friend via some kind of drawing (details to be worked out).

Anyhow, CB showed us some tricks and gave us some hints. We had turkey, mashed potatoes, and other good things. All in all it was a great afternoon for the Gibbons | Peck crew with our dear friend CB. Thanks Mr. Blair!

I don’t remember it, but I am told that I was born on the coldest day of 1958 in Martins Ferry, Ohio. Maybe that began to shape my attitude about all things winter. I am not a big fan of “Walking in a Winter Wonderland.” I’m more about “Hibernating in a Dark Winter Cave,” and “Wake Me When it’s Over.” It should come as no surprise, then, that Christmas is not my favorite holiday. To paraphrase Dr. Seus, “I dislike Christmas, the whole Christmas season, and since you asked, I’ll give you the reason.”

As I was discovering, as a young adult, that I have a mild case of SADD (that autumn depression some people get), I looked back on my falls. My grades were always poor in the fall (I made an annual amazing spring comeback). Every time I ever broke up with a girl, it was in the fall. Although I love football (a fall sport), I never did very well at it, but I always excelled at track. And I was always sick in the fall.

Most of the Christmases I remember from my childhood were spent nursing some sort of ear infection, strep throat, or rheumatic fever. One Christmas I was actually restricted to the sofa—a sick bed in the midst of revelry. One of the most traumatic memories of my entire childhood was the night my parents stayed out Christmas shopping until well after dark. They didn’t tell us where they were going (they didn’t want to “ruin the surprise”). I thought they were dead, or maybe had decided to blow us off and run away to someplace warm.

This gets me to my point. All the little elves who stand around singing and wearing big, drunk, silly grins, have instilled in me (and everyone else) the expectation that we are to be happy, happy, happy from the drop of the first leaf, to the tumble of the fat old elf down the chimney. I doubt I’m the only one who resents and resists this. Nevertheless, I have functioned under the implied order, “shut up and smile,” for my entire adult life.

To add to the pressure, the more I learn about economics, the more I understand that something like 40 percent of our bloated economy hinges on everyone’s spending like drunken sailors in Q4. So, the fact that I’m inclined to be frugal AND the fact that I’m inclined to be sort of quiet and sleepy at this time of year conspire to make me feel unpatriotic, sacreligious, and just plain not nice. I confess that I feel bullied by elves, retailers, and the Central Bank!

In light of the fact that Christmas is silly, and that it is not mentioned in the Bible (in fact, it was probably a holiday invented to appease the pagans who were forced by Constantine and his thugs to join the Church of Rome), I propose the following plan. Everyone chooses two birthdays to celebrate—one can be your own, but it doesn’t have to be. The other might be a significant other’s. Or maybe y’all will just want to celebrate my birthday, February 9. Anyhow, then everyone spends all kinds of crazy money on our two birthday celebrations. And we blow off Christmas.

This would spread the spending over the whole year, which has to be good for the economy. It would enable us all to get and give the gifts we really, really like, and only for people we really, really like. We can leave evergreen trees in the forest, where they are doing some good. We can dispense with programs where adults are forced to listen to small children who can’t hear pitches singing songs that should never be sung (not even once a year), pretending to enjoy to occasion. We can start doing what we ought to do about pudgy, middle-aged men in wigs, false beards, and elf suits harassing children; which is to arrest them. And we can focus our spiritual attention on important things—like the Lord Christ Jesus—all year round.

Call me crazy. But it just might work.

Seth came into Anne’s office today and told her we should be more up front about our faith. I don’t know about that. I certainly wouldn’t want to be accused of using my relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ to get more or better business. On the other hand, it’s not something we should be hiding, since it is such an important part of who we are.

If it matters to you, Anne and I are part of a New Testament assembly. This is a group of Christians who meet simply unto the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, attempting to follow the principles of gathering found in the first century church, as described in the New Testament. We would be considered Anabaptists, I suppose, by virtue of our belief in baptism by immersion, only after a profession of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, trusting only in the work of the cross for salvation; Christ plus nothing…nothing but the blood of Jesus.

We also might be considered “primitive” Christians, in that our approach to worship is characterized by simplicity, and we don’t do a lot of high church things, nor do we do a lot of emotional or performance-oriented things.

We are as far from Calvinists as you can be. In fact, our dear friend, Mike Atwood, refers to himself as “a zero point Calvinist”—inside joke, sorry.

Seminarians might categorize us as “Canonic, Dispensational, Primitive, Anabaptist, Evangelicals.” We prefer to be known simply as Christians. Anne and I both teach Sunday school classes. She has the high school girls. I have the high school boys. It’s cool. What a blessing! What an opportunity! What a responsibility!

There. Pretty out front. Do you find this helpful? Would you like to know more? Wanna see some Scripture references?

In his first letter to his pal Timothy, Paul writes, “Christ Jesus Came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.” That’s a nice thought to take to the Thanksgiving table. Don’t you think so?

Ran into our old friend George Lee today at Two Chefs. George is a top-shelf photographer, famous for using light to make really pretty things look breathtaking, and making less pretty things (and people) look really good. He is a master craftsman. Running into George started me thinking about the value of a photograph.

Lately, it’s become trendy to save money by using stock photography. In fact, we’ve done it some ourselves. Stock is getting pretty good now days. But a stop-dead-in-your-tracks visual image can be very valuable to a brand.

What would Marlboro be if it weren’t for those panoramic shots of the American West, serving as backdrops for the Marlboro cowboys. It’s not just a Marlboro man, it’s Marlboro country, and to pull it off you need a photograph suitable for National Geographic.

I remember an overhead shot of a bunch of people walking down an urban street with black umbrellas. There was one guy, walking “against the crowd” with a red umbrella. Striking image. You get the idea without even reading the headline. It had copy, but it didn’t need it. Just the Transamerica logo and you’re good to go.

Sometimes we have “provided” photography. Some is good, some is not so good. We have some design and production tricks to hide the flaws. And we can do some serious magic with Photoshop. But when you think about the expense of retouching, a lot of times it’s cheaper just to get a good shot to start with. Even if it’s expensive.

Bottom line is this. If you or I could get the shot with our point-and-shoot digitals, we wouldn’t need guys like George. But we can’t (don’t kid yourself), so we do. And as far as the price goes, they ought to make something relative to what it’s worth to the client to have the right shot. As the Bible says, “the laborer is worthy of his hire.”

Good to see ya, George. Hope you had a nice lunch.