Wisemen From The Midwest

No, the blog title is not a typo.

Several years ago, when my son and daughter-in-law were making their annual Thanksgiving visit to Chicago; we were out shopping for the upcoming Christmas season. Now, I am going to stop this narrative to admit that I am a difficult guy to buy for. No, not that I am overly picky or put too much emphasis on a gift, it is because of my excessive Ebay obsession, I need little, if anything. (Yes, I could be called an Ebay slut.)

So we were browsing through the shops looking at the goods when my son said, “Dad, how would you like these?”

He guided me towards a table upon which sat three large, ornate figures: The Three Wisemen. One was on a black horse, one on an elephant, and one on a camel. They were magnificent; truly impressive. I was immediately taken with them and expressed my admiration to my son.

Not wanting to hover about while “my Christmas gift” was being purchased, I headed outside the store and window-shopped at nearby establishments. After a considerable delay, the kids came outside. But, there was no large package. Ah, they must have elected to have them shipped to me. That is so nice. I will receive the Wisemen closer to Christmas.

Christmas came at its regular time that year. But no wisemen!

As with most weeks following Christmas, we were meeting at the family home in Alabama. I was certain the wisemen would appear then; even closer to Epiphany!

We all arrived in Alabama. Gathered around the fireplace, I presented them with their gifts. It had all the warm and fuzzy you would hope for. Still, the elusive seers did not appear. Maybe they had lost their star, or maybe it was not to be.

“Where are my wisemen?” Of course, you cannot ask – that would be too self-serving. The true spirit of Christmas is in the giving, not the receiving. But, where are they really? I kept quiet.

That year, the media was full of advertisements that featured a former Tarzan as a spokesperson for Werther’s Originals. He was now speaking as a Grandfather, no longer King of the Jungle. The gist of his spiel was that “every good grandfather has Werther’s Originals in his pocket.” With this in mind, my son had always said that I would know when they were “expecting” when I received a package of Werther’s in the mail.

The calendar progressed into April, then May.

One morning in mid-May, I got a call at my office. It was my son. “Dad, what is your office address, I cannot seem to locate where I have written it down and I need to send you something.”

Yes!!! I am going to be a grandfather. I phoned a couple of friends. I called my sister down south. “I am about to be a grandfather.”

When questioned by those I called, I was sorely short on details. I could only relate the bit about the Werther’s and the phone call from my son. I would wait for the mail for the details of when.

All the following week, I looked for the elusive bag of Werther’s. Nothing! The week after? Nothing!

Finally I phoned my son, “Am I going to be a grandfather?”

He was puzzled with the question coming out of the blue. “Why would you ask that?” I then related the bit about the Werther’s and the phone request for my office address. He laughed.

“No, we are trying to send your Christmas present!” (Ah, the ones from Orient are!)

The three wisemen - one on a black horse, one on an elephant, and one on a camel - traveled from the Midwest to the Deep South and finally arrived back in Chicago in October – 10 months following their anticipated appearance. (Is this my Christmas gift from last year or for the one coming up? Remember, it is about giving, not getting!)

The Werther’s Originals finally arrived and so did Miss Grace. However, I am now told by their parents that the grandchildren are not allowed to have sugar treats!

Carrots anyone?