From the new and improved Santa Claus

Essay by Lou Bendrick

Christmas – December 2002 – Colorado Central Magazine

To: Residents of Western Region, North America

From: First Assistant to Kris Kringle

THIS COMMUNICATION is to inform you that Christopher Kringle, aka, Saint Nicholas and Santa Claus, henceforth known herein as Mr. Claus, has made several changes to your subscriber service. Mr. Claus will not be arriving by “a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer” this year because of an outbreak of chronic wasting disease. Please note that this outbreak was completely contained, that there was no “dashing,” and affected reindeer, specifically Comet and Cupid, were quarantined. The public was not threatened at any time.

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A mountain called ‘Ed’

Essay by Lou Bendrick

Geography – July 2001 – Colorado Central Magazine

THE THING I DON’T LIKE about house guests is the fact that they’re nosy and ask meddlesome questions. Questions about geography, for instance.

“What’s that mountain?,” they’ll ask, pointing to the snow-capped behemoth outside my kitchen window.

“That,” I’ll say stammering, wracking my brain, “is…Big Pointy.”

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The Attack of the Killer Hummingbirds

Essay by Lou Bendrick

Wildlife – October 2000 – Colorado Central Magazine

AH, SUMMER. In the Rockies it’s a season marked by many things, such as rodeo, camping, bing cherries, forest fires and wildflowers. But perhaps more than any other sound (even that of the backhoe), the shrill whir of the hummingbird marks summer in the West.

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Beware White Dork: The Weasel Spirit

Essay by Lou Bendrick

Spirituality – August 2000 – Colorado Central Magazine

I’VE ALWAYS BEEN THE GUILTY TYPE. This guilt is why I’m unable to retain an open mind when it comes to my town’s latest craze: Native American spirituality, known widely as the Born-Again Navajo movement. (Okay, I just made that term up).

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Happy Campers We Shall Always Be

Essay by Lou Bendrick

Outdoor Life – August 1999 – Colorado Central Magazine

EVERY SUMMER, my husband and I head for the woods, flushed with optimism and giddy with anticipation. The maps are crisp, the Coleman fuel cans are full, and the road is open.

And every summer, I forget that the reality of camping is different than that pictured in Dodge Dakota commercials and my mind.

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