“My husband says everyone who works here is a fanatic – except for himself and Charles!” I told some fellow co-workers during coffee break one afternoon.

Another co-worker, young and ‘full of it’, came strolling through the door just then and picked right up on my last remark, “Who says I’m a fanatic? If anybody says I’m a fanatic I’ll burn their house down.”

You’ve heard of half-wits – well, I’m a dense-wit, and Mike’s laser-sharp wit just simply penetrated into my consciousness so quickly and painlessly that it was three days later when I began to giggle about his remark.

“That really was a good one,” I had to admit to myself, knowing that I very probably was not the only one whom his humor had escaped.

You should know Mike! He and his dog, Shandar, came to Ontario – I suppose it was maybe two years ago when he took a job writing sports stories for the newspaper after completing a long hitch in the service. A quiet man with a forlorn air about him, I got my first look at another side of Mike the day I walked into the editorial department during the noontime lull. There he was, standing in front of the society editor’s desk reciting Shakespeare to her, fast and furiously – and he was still performing when I made my exit.

Well, as time went on, the real Mike Lafferty began to appear more and more frequently. Soon we all were to find that the quiet forlorn looking young man who had come through our door was anything but quiet. Super-talented, highly intelligent and so quick, yet he must suffer through our mediocre attempts at humour – and he does so with grace.

“Well, Mike, what did you do for excitement this weekend?” I asked him one Monday morning.

And without a moments hesitation he remarked, “I put my cat in the microwave to see what would happen.”

“No way, Mike! You can tell me a lot of stories, but that’s one that I definitely will not believe,” I said to him. “Anyone who pulls their wallet out to show me a picture of his dog and cats, the same as most people show off pictures of their kids, cannot make me believe something like that – no way!” I told him.

He laughed – because he knew he had been found out!

This chapter of Mike’s life has a happy ending, and since it’s Christmas, a time for happiness and joy, you should know that it is out there. Mike is to be married this month to a young and lovely old-fashioned girl, and I suspect it was ‘love-at-first-sight’.

They are so happy, and everything is right for Mike and Debby this Christmas of ‘81.

But – just what, in your opinion, is a fanatic? Some people are fanatical about keeping their house clean – I wish I were. Others are fanatics about the clothes they wear, styles, etc., – I probably should be.

I have a friend who is a fanatic about keeping her car spotless and shining. She nearly became violent the day I raised my hand to wipe the steam from her car window so I could see out – “Oh, no,” she screamed at me. “You’ll smear it!”

Horrors, I didn’t know. I had learned how to write my name under similar conditions.

Then there was another friend who kept her floors spotless throughout her babies growing up years. She couldn’t stand for the floor to be dirty so, following each meal she placed the dishes in the hot, sudsy dishwater, took her dish cloth and mopped up her floor, using her dish water for mop water before continuing on with her dishes.

Now, that bothered me, somehow, but she never understood why.

As we grow older and sort of begin to ‘mellow out’ so to speak, it seems like we might be able to drop a few of our fanaticisms – they can get pretty heavy you know. But, once we have led our kids down the straight and narrow for twenty years, they get pretty dictatorial themselves. Pretty soon the kids are bossing the parents – trying to, at least.

As parents, we have spent their lifetime advising them about the hazards of drinking and smoking. We have instructed them against swearing, warned them about junk food, – don’t swim alone, cover your ears, take your vitamins, do as you’re told. But – don’t back down if you believe you are right – work hard, do more than is expected.

Then, there are the basics, those ten commandments – God’s rules – those few simple rules stressing honesty, faithfulness, sincerity, love, mercy. Would following His instructions classify one as a ‘fanatic’?

Oh, boy, I just thought of my New Year’s resolution – God help me to become more ‘fanatically’ fanatic.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself again. First we have to pick out a Christmas tree – it’s always such a struggle. Traditionally, we all go together to buy the tree. Also, tradition decrees that my second daughter, Susan, will become sympathetic for some poor scraggly tree which she fears no one will want – so she proceeds to fight for the poor ugly little tree to be taken to the Ziegler home. The rest of the family must then decide whether to fight for a pretty tree and endure the ‘look’ in Susan’s eyes, or to settle for the poor little tree that nobody else would want.

It isn’t the Christmas tree war that bothers me though. I just wonder – when Susan goes to pick out a husband, I hope she doesn’t use the same criteria.

Yes, I have to admit – the future does look interesting!