Gobble, Gobble, Gratitude

Here is hoping for a whole lot of goodness this Thanksgiving to Christmas season, but beyond the turkey celebrations and surge toward Santa, I will reflect on greatness. Like a pumped up pilgrim or enthused elf, I announce it is available to everyone...

I present to you...

The Great Outdoors! (Plymouth Rock pilgrim fist bumps, North Pole elf cheers)

The following November experiences all have one thing in common and it is being outside. Sounds simple and maybe it is, but there is emerging scientific evidence that there is something profound about stepping out into the elements, no matter who you are or what the elements are - just getting out there is the benefit.  A quote from a book I recently read on environmental neuroscience captured it all for this 41-year-old, young at heart, adventure brain:

"Children do not run through walls when there are no walls."  

At the beginning of the month, I had the luxury of going on a field trip where walls were not an option. This was due to the "government shutdown", a ludicrious two-word term our nation has in its absurdist back pocket. Due to this factor, our field trip had no access to buildings at the Flight 93 National Memorial, which turned out to be a blessing. I had been to Flight 93 twice before and this third trek was all on foot, all outside. Flanked by my fellow Bold Crossfit gym members, we blazed the trails and felt the sun and wind on a crisp autumn morning. The surrounding nature serving as a serene dedication to what happened on that field. To walk with friends and appreciate the fresh air, imagining what a group of people endured in their final moments in the sky. To hear the Tower of Voices wind chimes and realize that each morning could and should start with gratitude. To exercise and watch the autumn breeze meet a colorful collection of tree leaves...

And then there is the downtown Johnstown Christmas tree and its artifical evergreen majesty, relocated this season to Peoples Natural Gas Park. Light up Night is propelled by that towering tree but I will make my case for the night. Each year our family attends this event, and you could argue the PNG spot of 2025 was even more magical than centered in Central Park, but no matter where they stick that tree, you need the night. The Light Up phenomenon needs moon and stars. It needs imaginative kids looking up and wondering how Santa does it. Imaginations can only go so high when there is a ceiling. 

The end of this year's Christmas parade signaled for a believing mob to move as a herd. I felt like a concert going caribou trying to get as close as possible to the countdown. The bright lights came on, the herd rejoiced, and hundreds, if not thousands, walked the winter wonderland. And from Plymouth Rock to the North Pole, humans are inclined to form a community and to celebrate together. 

Thanks to all those volunteers for make the Johnstown Light Up Night and Christmas season what it is. If you keep the tree outside, the spirit will be strong. 

Strength is often associated with the physical, but the mental game is often what holds the true power. This year's edition of the Stackhouse Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving morning had a forecast that some humans would label anywhere from not ideal to torturous. 24 hours before race day, the temperature would drop about 25 degrees and the wind would howl like wolves scaring away all the turkeys. Rain had the potential to make the gobble, gobble trails into a googly moogly mud maze. As a board member and dedicated Stackhouse servant, I was raking starting line leaves to serve my fellow countrymen and countrywomen, but this act was more a selfish rouse and effort to stay warm. If I am good at anything, it is forest trickery. 

The 2-mile trot was well attended and the weather held up, meaning that all a fun run in wilderness need is for Earth to still exist. If you embrace "there is no such thing as bad weather", you prosper. Thanks to all the trailblazers on Thanksgiving morning, those dressed as turkeys, bundled up too much, and the nutjobs who wore shorts. We need each and every one of you blazing the trails, from the youngest competitor to the oldest athlete unwilling to retire his or her running shoes.

Show up. Lace up. Mind over weather. 

This November, my daughters got in our first sled ride of the season and three days later I was riding my bike through the Staple Bend Tunnel; I've run across the bridge above the Stonycreek River, taking a deep breathe and appreciation of the view; I've went on solitude hikes in Stackhouse to clear my head and count my blessings. My gratitude list grows as more miles are logged playing, walking, hiking, biking, and running. 

As we move toward December, kick it into gratitude gear. Believe in Santa, your community, and yourself. 

Whether you feel great, good, or somewhere farther south, think about stepping outside. That is the only way Santa gets to his sleigh. 

Happy Holidays, Johnstown. 

Halloween 2025

This Halloween, my family dressed as the following characters:

8-year-old: Phineas

10-year-old: Ferb

Mom: Candice 

Dad: Perry the Platypus 

If you have never watched Phineas and Ferb, it is a Disney Channel revelation of a cartoon. Two brothers - Phineas and Ferb - come up with backyard ideas that their sister, Candice, finds anywhere from suspicious to revolting. She continuously attempts to warn her oblivious parents of the cockamamie schemes of her younger brothers. Meanwhile, a crime fighting platypus named Perry is fighting off Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz, an evil purist of the skies. The madman versus semiaquatic mammal storyline interlocks with the sibling showdown each and every episode.

In short, it fits our family.  

As our girls have gotten older, our Halloween exploits have evolved or revolved. We have reprised costumes from years gone by for the nostalgia or comfort. I first was Perry the Platypus during the pandemic. I actually wore a Perry onesie to a farm in Virginia in 2020. There is no better illustration of how messed up Covid was than the picture of me as an out-of-state public Perry, masked, with parrots landing on my head. The birds believed I was one of them. I was disheleved and also believed I was semi-aquatic, semi-parrot, or going insane. 

5 years later, I decided a Perry trucker hat with matching T-shirt was a more socially acceptable way to parade around town as a 41-year-old. I still have the Perry onesie yet only plan to wear it outside of Pennsylvania during a Round 2, mid-life crisis.

Before any of this Halloween's tomfoolery, our family took our 10th weekend getaway to Creekside Resort, a Bedford County hidden gem in the metropolis of Clearville. Beginning in October of 2015, our family of four has done some glamping in cabins named Lily Pad, Beaver Lodge, and Turkey Roost out in the middle of nowhere. It has become our safe haven for a haunting good time in all seasons, but mostly in autumn when the leaves are changing and the hiking trail is surrounded by roaming wildlife. I have watched my girls grow up at Creekside and I will now pause to cry.

(Pause)

This year my parents occupied a cabin and so did my brother and his family. We roamed like the wildlife. We soaked in the glory of Mother Nature, family, and good health from frosty sunrises to fireside stargazing. I even organized a kickball game in apex heat on Saturday that I greatly enjoyed despite my brother getting the winning RBI and sealing my loss. Prior to this hit, both my nieces walked off the field due to their lack of enjoyment. And I may or may not have tossed my eldest daughter out of the game for foul remarks to her younger sister. 

Let there be peace on Earth and let it begin with family kickball.

On the Sunday we exited Creekside, our Subaru Ascent descended into Accident, Maryland. My daughters and I were excited to return to the Cove Run Farm Corn Maze. My wife was not excited as she associates corn mazes with getting lost and/or movie murders. I assured her that this is real life and small children routinely enter and exit the corn maze without the threat of abandoment or death. 

Prior to our maze escape this year, we ate lunch at Brewery and The Beast, a delicious play on words brewhouse. I ate a scrumptious smoked pulled pork sandwich. An hour later, after surviving the corn maze as a family unit, I spent quality alone time petting two pigs at Cove Run Farm. You bet your pork belly I thought about the irony and the table to farm experience I was having.

While I was in my pig confessional, my girls were feeding cows. My wife was not feeding cows. She was in deep, deep reflection on how this was not the life she wanted to live and she will never ever feed a cow. The Terrifier for her is The Farm. I reminded her how happy the girls were to be back and how I would be a terrible, terrifying farmer. 

We returned to our homeland safe and sound. Thanks, Cove Run. At least 3 of us will be back next year!

On Trick-or-Treat night, darkness fell as we walked the streets of Westmont and then Brownstown. Hundreds of community members were handing out candy or in pursuit of it. The wind would occasionally howl. A child would occassionally scream. One of my good friends, a 1st grader, would punch me after every candy he received. This has nothing to do with celebrating the holiday or his analysis of the candy. It is my fault - I have made myself an open invitation for rough housing so the sidewalk jabs and hooks to the spine are of my own doing. If you are a concerned community member and saw a youthful Sonic the Hedgehog fighting a grown man Perry the Platypus, I sincerely Do Not apologize. 

24 hours after the Trick-or-Treat, our family scattered all the candy on the living room floor. We did some inventory. I claimed the three Almond Joys. My 8-year-old tried to make a claim for a Joy but this was not a democratic process. She did not put up much a fight as she was in a sea of Skittles. We decided that many of the treats will be shipped to the military to get soldiers sugared up. 

Support the troops. Save parents. America. 

As I retire another Perry costume after another fun Halloween season, I take inventory of what matters most - we continue to count candy and our blessings together...continue to explore, gather, and laugh with gratitude for what we have...continue to be community driven and humor powered. 

"CURSE YOU PERRY THE PLATYPUS!!!!!!!!"  - Dr. Doofenshmirtz