The Kraft Music Hall began its 15-year broadcast life under band leader Paul Whiteman and singer/actor Al Jolson, but it’s Bing Crosby for whom the show is best known. Crosby took over as program-host late in 1935, and it was during his decade-long reign on the show that Bing enjoyed the peak of his film, radio, and popular music fame.

Bing was born Harry Lillis Crosby in Tacoma, Washington in 1903. In the 1920’s he abandoned law school at Gonzaga University to become a singing-drummer on the vaudeville circuit! By 1925 he’d moved to Los Angeles and began performing in theaters and nightclubs with old college pal Al Rinker. Both friends would sing while Rinker played piano and Crosby accompanied on drums.

In 1927 Paul Whiteman saw them perform and immediately signed them up to tour with his band. Later Crosby left the orchestra to work with Gus Arnaheim back in Los Angeles. In 1931 Crosby signed a recording contract with CBS and the following year began his acting career with Paramount Pictures.

As a part of Crosby’s deal with CBS, he was given his own daily radio program, Fifteen Minutes with Bing Crosby, which showcased the crooner’s musical talents. From 1931-35 Bing worked several other variety programs on CBS, for sponsors such as Chesterfield cigarettes and Woodbury soap. By this time Crosby had become a major star and late in 1935 he decided to switch over to NBC and host The Kraft Music Hall .

The Music Hall’s hour-long format was a perfect match for Crosby’s warm and relaxed stage presence. The show featured a mixture of music, jokes, and casual conversation.

One of the regular cast members included Bob Burns, “the Arkansas Traveler,” teller of tall-tales, and player of a comical bass-instrument of his own invention that he called a “bazooka.” This glorified whisky jug of a bass consisted of two pieces of pipe that were slid one over the other in a trombone-like manner when played. The “bazooka” moniker would soon be adopted by our troops in the coming war, who affectionately referred to their anti-tank rocket guns by the same name as Burns’ crude pipe instrument.

Other Music Hall cast-members featured over the years included: bandleader Jimmy Dorsey, drummer Spike Jones, trombonist Jerry Colonna, vocalist Mary Martin, and pianist-comedian Victor Borge.

The Music Hall had a low-key distinctive sound that Crosby carefully cultivated. Oddly enough, he discouraged applause between performances, feeling this slowed the pace of the program. Numerous big-name musicians, artists, and entertainers became regular guests. It was said they appreciated Crosby’s charm and “gracious informality,” which Bing masterfully employed to make them feel as if they were stars of the show. The long list of illustrious guests included the likes of: Duke Ellington, Jack Teagarten, Lionel Barrymore, Humphery Bogart, Robert Benchley, Pat O’Brien, and Bob Hope.

Late in 1945 a disagreement arose between Crosby and NBC. Bing had heard of a new method of sound recording developed in Germany which used plastic-backed tape that could reproduce sounds of superior quality. Crosby immediately saw the advantages of using these tapes to pre-record his radio programs –producing four shows in a week and then taking the rest of the month off. The network and sponsors had long opposed pre-recorded programs, fearing the public’s reaction to a “canned” show. Crosby insisted on taping and in the end, walked out on Kraft and NBC. The Music Hall continued broadcasts until 1949, first under the leadership of Edward Horton and later by the show’s old host and singing star, Al Jolson.

In 1946 Crosby started “Philco Radio-Time” on ABC and made history with radio’s first taped program. The show had a very similar format to Kraft Music Hall and pulled respectable ratings in its three years on the air. By doing this Crosby demonstrated to everyone the high quality of audiotape recordings and the fact that the public could accept non-live broadcasts. These discoveries would soon have a tremendous influence on both the music industry and the infant medium of television. -CP

Take your bible and turn to the following Scripture -- John 3:16-17
Prayerfully read the verses two times, and then read the Advent Devotional that follows written by Dr. Thomas Q. Robbins, Pastor of the University Park United Methodist Church in Dallas, Texas. Then spend a few moments in prayer using the suggestions Thomas Q. offers. Be sure to wait a few moments in silence to let your Creator God speak to you.

Think About It -- John 3:16-17

This is perhaps the most familiar passage in the New Testament; at least that’s true for verse 16. But verses 16 and 17 put the familiar passage in a context of God’s offering of the Son for salvation of the world through Him. This salvation as a gift of God’s gracious love for us must be accepted before it’s viable. This acceptance is called belief or faith. God, through Jesus Christ, has effected salvation for the entire world, but to appropriate this salvation from sin and death, one must “believe in the name of the only Son of God.”

Belief is not a feeling; it is not just an intellectual assent to the reality that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. It‘s rather a decision to believe and trust and obey that ultimate reality of God’s love with the entirety of one’s life.

Prayer:

To leave the “old self” scares me, Lord. For me to part with my biological or natural identity will take the help of your Holy Spirit. It’s like dying—and dying appears to be a fearful and painful thing. And there is pain in birth, so I ask your Spirit to help me in my new birth with all the anxiety that comes from the newness of life. Grant to me, in the face of my unfaith, my fears, my reservations and my doubts, this gift that only you can give – of “being born from above.

Earlier this week, I featured an article in memorial of Pearl Harbor Day and also wrote a little essay about my memory of it as a seven year old boy. The Denver Post featured an article in it’s Scene section that stopped me cold.

Leslie Limbo, contributing writer for the POST, wrote a wonderful article of a nine year old boy who WAS THERE WHEN IT HAPPENED IN PEARL HARBOR. I would link you to the Denver Post’s Web page but I couldn’t find this article so I must transcribe it for you.

Sixty-three years later, he can still remember the sounds of aircraft on the morning of Dec. 7, 1941. Unlike many eyewitnesses to the Pearl Harbor attack, Colorado Springs resident Roy Warren wasn’t a sailor or a soldier on duty in Hawaii that fateful day. He was a 9-year-old boy looking out his bedroom window as history began unfolding before him.

“I could see the Japanese torpedo bombers about 15-20 feet above our house; they were flying toward the harbor and battleship row. I ran to my parent’s bedroom and yelled, ‘I think the Japanese are bombing us.’

Warren and his mother, Catherine, had joined his father Harold, a Navy ensign, on Hawaii in the summer of 1941. “It was common knowledge we were preparing for war,” Warren said. “But we thought the war would be fought in the Phillipines or somewhere closer to Japan.”

Even so, people were preparing. He recalled air raid drills in the months leading up to Dec. 7. During the drills, Marines in full battle dress would pick the children up from the Navy-run school about 100 yards from battleship row and take them to the administrative building, a concrete structure where they waited as the marines told the children to be quiet. “It was like a junior boot camp.

On Dec. 7, while the raid was going on, his father told the family to stay inside as he headed toward headquarters to work at the communications center at Pearl Harbor. But like most children, Warren got restless, so he and a buddy went exploring outside. “We found shrapnel and pieces of brass fuses that were still hot enough to burn our fingers,” Warren says. “We put the stuff we found in a coffee can.

Though his Navy housing area was not a target, houses were damaged in the attack as shrapnel fell on some of the roofs, including his. Bullets went all the way through a bedroom in the house across the street as some of the Japanese torpedo bombers must have started their straffing fire early.

Warren’s voice grew husky as he described the sailors in wet clothing who came up to the housing area after the attack looking for dry clothing and weapons. “They needed something to fight back with and didn’t have anything. I vowed then that I’d always have something to protect my family with. There are so many people who have never been up against anything like that.”

The Marines set up a machine gun nest next to the Warren house. A week later, when it became apparent Japan was not invading Hawaii, the sailors returned to Pearl Harbor. School was closed for nearly six months after the attack. Warren and his friends had plenty of time to go exploring.

“All the kids in the neighborhood scavenged for stuff. We found uniforms, bayonets, and other things. The Navy had gathered a lot of equipment and supplies that had been damaged and dumped it. There were complete wall lockers that had Christmas Cards inside in the dump. I didn’t read them; just saw them. Some of the weapons recovered from the ships were dumped because of the salt water or were covered in oil. I must have found a dozen rifles or more We played soldiers and sailors or cowboys and Indians with all the stuff. Nobody cared about what we had done or were doing with it.”

Warren and his family remained in Hawaii after the war. He received a degree in tropical agriculture from the University of Hawaii and later became a real estate broker. He also served in the US Army Reserves, retiring with the rank of major.

In the 1990’s he and his wife Patricia moved to Colorado Springs. In 1992 he and his mother received, on behalf of his father, a medal that the US Dept. of Defense awarded military members who survived the attack on Pearl Harbor. About ten years ago, Warren contacted the Admiral Nimitz State Historical Site National Museum of the Pacific War in Fredricksburg, Texas and arranged to donate his Pearl Harbor artifacts. He also made a recording of his memoires of the the day of the attack for the museum. <{>

Photographs of his father and the family form part of the exhibit. Warren’s memorabilia provides visitors with a different look at World War II, explains Mike Lebens, associate curator of the museum. “It allows them to look at war through a child’s eyes and brings home the reality of war to Americans who have never seen war on their own soil.”

While Warren's memorabilia of the Pearl Harbor attacks now rest in a Texas museum, Warren will always carry the memories of that terrible day on December 7, 1941.

-- Leslie Limbo, The Denver Post 12/7/04

Still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the precious family moments, and of course, the true meaning of Christmas. My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. You know as well as I do what an exciting season it is for a six year old.

For weeks, he'd been memorizing songs for his school's "Winter Pageant." I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd be working the night of the production. Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his teacher. She assured me there'd be a dress rehearsal the morning of the presentation. All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to come then.

Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise. So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes early, found a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. Around the room, I saw several other parents quietly scampering to their seats. As I waited, the students were led into the room. Each class, accompanied by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then, each group, one by one, rose to perform their song.

Because the public school system had long stopped referring to the holiday as "Christmas," I didn't expect anything other than fun, commercial entertainment - songs of reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes and good cheer. So, when my son's class rose to sing, "Christmas Love," I was really surprised by its bold title.

Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, adorned in fuzzy mittens, red sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon their heads. Those in the front row- center stage - held up large letters, one by one, to spell out the title of the song.

As the class would sing "C is for Christmas," a child would hold up the letter C. Then, "H is for Happy," and on and on, until each child holding up his portion had presented the complete message, "Christmas Love." The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed her; a small, quiet, girl in the front row holding the letter "M" upside down - totally unaware her letter "M" appeared as a "W".

The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little one's mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her, so she stood tall, proudly holding her "W". Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter continued until the last letter was raised, and we all saw it together.

A hush came over the audience and eyes began to widen.

In that instant, we understood the reason we were there, why we celebrated the holiday in the first place, why even in the chaos, there was a purpose for our festivities.

For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud and clear:

"C H R I S T W A S L O V E"

And, He still is.

My cousin, Mary Lou Brumblin, from Pennsylvania sent me this piece last year. I wish we know who wrote it. Mary Lou was able to give us some wonderful news two weeks ago. The cancer she has been battling, and it's be a rugged battle, is now in remisison and her blood is clear right now. That's a giant Praise the Lord.... and the reason for this healing is not because she's good or a neat lady; not because she has better faith than anyone else; or that she went through a formula of activities, or praised the Lord in full voice. God healed her because he loves her and the event occured so that God would be glorified by the miracle. And that's the reason for every miracle. And that's the reason we're telling you right now.

Someone has said that from 1558 until 1829, Roman Catholics in England were not permitted to practice their faith openly. Someone during that era wrote this carol as a catechism song for the children. It has two levels of meaning, the surface and “fun” meaning plus a hidden meaning known only to members of the church. Each element in the carol has a code word for a religious reality which the children could remember.

Now whether or not that is a true fact, the following interpretation of "The Twelve Days of Christmas can give special meaning to the song every time you hear it played this season. And if you want a tast of the riduculous and abserd, check out the "Cajon" style at the bottom of the page.

1. The partridge in a pear tree was Jesus Christ.

2. Two turtle doves were the Old and New Testaments.

3. Three French hens stood for faith, hope and love.

4. The four calling birds were the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.

5. The five golden rings recalled the Torah or Law, the first five books.

6. The six geese a-laying stood for the six days of creation.

7. Seven swans a swimming represented the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit--Prophesy, Serving, Teaching, Exhortation, Contribution, Leadership and Mercy.

8. The eight maids a milking were the eight beatitudes.

9. Nine ladies dancing were the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit--Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self Control.

10. The ten lords a leaping were the ten commandments.

11. The eleven pipers piping stood for the eleven faithful disciples.

12. The twelve drummers drumming symbolized the twelve points of belief in the Apostle' Creed.

Now, how’s that for giving new meaning to an old song? So there is your teaching for the day.... and an interesting and enlightening possibility to know how that strange song became a Christmas Carol.

That’s the story of my life. The Plunkett kids on Cedar Street always got cheated. We would not be reminded about it until we arrived at school on December 5, and would hear the kids talking about it. The German kids got fruit, nuts, hard candy, small toys and crayons and stuff like that. How lucky can you get?

“How come you get all that stuff?”

“St. Nicholas brought it!” was always the reply. “He put the stuff in our shoes.”

It was a European tradition that on the night before St. Nicholas’ feast day, December 6, miraculously St. Nick would ride into town on a white horse from Heaven carrying a white book that had a record of each child’s deeds. He would reward good children with sweets and punish the wicked with switches. In Sweden and Norway he rode a reindeer. The Dutch brought this tradition to the New World. And, in the 1940’s European city of Milwaukee, many children were visited by St. Nicholas. Our family seemed to have nothing to do with St. Nicholas. Our folks explained that is was part of some people’s culture and that we observed the American tradition of St.Nick/Santa Claus on Christmas.

St. Nicholas became Greek Orthodox priest and had an amazing life of ministry and miracles. He was born in Armenia in 280 AD -- Armenia was the first country to become Christian by rejecting Persian Zoroastrianism. After a noteworthy life his influence continued and was chosen as the patron saint of Russia.

In 1087 the Muslims staged a bloody invasion into Turkey and all but wiped out the Christians in the region, which included the seven churches mentioned in Revelation. The remains of St. Nicholas were rescued and taken to Italy for safekeeping and a gigantic basilica was built in his honor. France and then the entire Western world honored his life. 400 churches were named in his honor in England and 1,200 across Europe.

Jumping centuries – in the 1600’s, the Pilgrims and the Puritans who came to the shores of America did not celebrate the Feast Day of St. Nicholas or Henry VIII’s “Father Christmas” (which we’ll write about later). They did not even celebrate Christmas Day. They considered each day as belonging to the Lord and the weekly Sabbath/Lord’s Day was their time of celebration.

It wasn’t until the Dutch settlers came to America and founded New Amsterdam, later changed to New York, that American children began hearing of the feast of Saint Niklass and observing the celebration of St. Nicholas night. As the wilderness was cleared, more English immigrants came over, bringing with them the festive traditions surrounding, “Father Christmas.” Gradually, over time, the description of Saint Nicholas became transformed and Christmas was emphasized.

We were reminding ourselves that the use of a “winter tree” had long been a pagan practice and part of the observance of the sacred “Winter Solstice.” At some point, Christianity adopted the tradition. I really wasn’t sure how that happened but I remembered that Martin Luther was connected with starting the tradition of putting candles on Christmas trees which were by that time a regular part of home decoration in Germany.

I was embarrassed that I really didn’t have a clear idea of how the use of a Christmas tree had come into common practice for the celebration of Christ’s birth, so I went to William J. Fedder’s book, There Really is a Santa Claus, “The History of St. Nicholas and the Christmas Holiday.” It’s an outstanding collection of the traditions and observances of Christmas throughout the centuries. I found this passage that answered some of my questions:

“In the year 200 AD, the early church Father, Tertullian wrote:

“You are the light of the world, a tree ever green, if you have renounced the heathen temple.”

In the 400’s AD, St Boniface was sent by Pope Gregory II as a missionary to heathen Germany. One of the first things he did was to confront the Chieftain Gundhar, who was about to offer little Prince Asulf as a bloody sacrifice to Thor, their pagan God who supposedly lived in the huge oak tree at Geismar.

St. Boniface boldly took an axe and after many swings at the mighty “blood oak” tree, an enormous wind arrived and blew the tree over! The heathen throng was in total awe. Then pointing to an evergreen tree that was next to where the mighty oak had stood, St. Boniface stated:

This is the word, and this is the counsel. Not a drop of blood shall fall tonight for this is the birth night of St. Christ, Son of the t All-Father and Savior of the world. This little tree, a young child of the forest, shall be a “home tree” tonight. It is the wood of peace for you houses are built of fir. It is the sign of endless life for it’s branches are ever green. See how the tree points toward Heaven? Let this little tree be called the tree of the Christ Child; gather about it, not in the wild woods but in your warm homes; there it will shelter no deeds of blood but loving gifts and lights of kindness.

Last Saturday Mary and I manned and womanned and childrenned the Salvation Army kettle outside of Foley's Department Store at the Southglenn Shopping Center at the corner of Arrapahoe and University in Denver. We had the only kettle in the entire huge shopping center. We had a great time with the grandchildren, Paige and Grace Rooney and rang from noon to 2:00 pm. I'd say that the good people who came buy to "share" gave some $100.00 during our assignment. And half of that was the result of having two beautiful children with us.

Sometime I'll write a piece about the various types of people who walked by and how the ones who did not choose to give handled it -- all the way from getting as far away from the kettle as possible and still being able to walk through the entrance but with head down and eyes to the cement to those who had a spirit of arrogance and looked right at you passing between you and the gift kettle leaving a cloud of "you can take this kettle and ......."

It was refreshing that only two took this tact. It was so neat to have people not choose to give but spoke a greeting, made a comment, or stopped to talk.

What Mary, Paige, Grace and I did Saturday was to help the Salvation Army maintain a presence that would not otherwise be possible. Interesting that on the same day we were at Foley's, two of our grandsons were boying Salvation Army Kettles with the Y-Guide program at a grocery store over in Centennial.

But look what may have to happen when interested "helpers" become scarce. JAY REEVES wrote this Associated Press article that appeared in the Birmingham Mecury this past week:

BIRMINGHAM, Ala. - There's a reason that smiling Salvation Army bell-ringer looks a little stiff this Christmas season, and it's not the cold weather.

Banned from Target stores and faced with a shortage of holiday volunteers, the Salvation Army is using scores of animated, cardboard bell-ringers on a test basis to staff its red donation kettles in stores across the South.

Equipped with motion sensors, each corrugated cutout has a battery-operated, motorized arm that waves a silent cardboard bell. Anyone who draws near hears a loud, jingling sound from a speaker and a cheery "Merry Christmas, God bless you."

The cutouts, which bear the image of a uniformed Salvation Army officer, are being used at 200 Books-A-Million and Hibbett Sporting Goods stores in 14 states. The kettles are kept inside the stores to ward off theft, and volunteers gather up the donations every three days.

The idea came from Charles Anderson, chairman of Anderson Media Co., the parent company of Birmingham-based Books-A-Million, which paid for the cutouts. Anderson is also a member of Salvation Army's advisory board.

"It's a fun approach," said Mark Brown, the charity's Birmingham-area commander. "Even as we were assembling them people were coming up and saying, `Let me put some money in your kettle.'"

Target this year banned Salvation Army bell ringers from its stores after years of exempting the charity from its blanket policy against solicitation. The chain was the charity's second-largest collection point last year, accounting for 10 percent of the almost $94 million raised nationwide.

"We're trying to maintain our visibility. We want to keep that opportunity for donors to see us and make a donation in a very traditional way," Brown said.

ON THE NET

Ah yes, ‘tis the season for yet another holiday tradition! Just like good ole Saint Nick himself it’s time for that long-lived and oft-maligned gastronomic wonder, the noble fruitcake, to rise from it’s darkened celestial cupboard and set out on its holiday “gift given” rounds, spreading joy and good cheer the wide world over.

And to serve as a yuletide warning for all the headstrong and precocious children of the planet to behave themselves, ere the firm hands of justice should force them in punishment to actually eat a piece!

As far back as the gilded Christmas age of Charles Dickens’ England, the fruitcake has suffered the “slings and arrows of outrageous” culinary reviews. It was Dickens himself who once referred to it as “a geological homemade cake,” but it was under Johnny Carson’s watch on the Tonight Show that fruitcakedom witnessed its public relations low-point with a series “vicious and slanderous” chucklers, the best of which was… “There’s only one fruitcake in the entire U.S. and it’s passed around year after year, from family to family!”

Not laughing? Well I suppose we lack Ed McMahon’s “Ho-Ho’ing” shotgun-backup for the full “Carson effect.”

There are a few among fruitcake’s myriad fans (and those who just pretend to be for “image’s sake”) that trace its beginnings back to Egyptian times when cakes of dried fruit (in a tasteful dusting of natron) were prepared for the Pharaoh to take with him into the afterlife.

Still others cite the first fruitcakes occurring in Roman times, when a sumptuous mélange of raisins, pine nuts, and pomegranate were set in a barley mash and baked to produce a dense, durable food stuff that could easily travel on long campaigns with the conquering legions.

During the Middle Ages in Europe honey became an essential ingredient of the cakes, as a flavoring and a preservative. With the advent of cheap sugar, brought by the colonial trade of the 1600’s, fruitcake’s shelf-life steadily increased as the nuts and fruity bits were soaked in greater and greater concentrations of sugar.

By the 1700’s these cakes were used in various religious festivals, harvest celebrations, and weddings. In rural communities the harvest was marked by the baking of special cakes, which were stored until the following year to bring luck to the new year’s crop. Along a similar vein, in some parts of England the upper layer of wedding cakes (the bride’s cake) is still made of fruitcake, which the newly wed couple keeps for the coming year(s).

No one seems to be certain why fruitcakes became associated with Christmas time, but one imaginative story involves a late 1700’s English custom of handing out slices of cake to impoverished women who traveled door to door at Christmas, singing carols. Another possibility involves another English law from the 1700’s, which restricts the use of plum cake (i.e. fruitcake) to Christmas, Easter, weddings, christenings and funerals. In any case most fruitcakes are eaten (or I should say, “sold”) at holiday time.

Here in America, the modern Christmas fruitcake comes in two basic varieties, typically formed into a dense ring-shaped loaf, often topped in pecans. One variety is the “light fruitcake;” this uses sugar or corn syrup and a mixture of walnuts, almonds, pecans, golden raisins, pineapple, lemon rind, apricot, and cherry, bound in a sweet heavy dough.

"Dark fruitcakes" employ brown sugar or molasses as the main sweetener, and often use additional fruits such as dark raisins, prunes, and dates. Both varieties are often available with bourbon, brandy, or some other eau de vie as an added flavoring.

Despite all the jokes and their bad image, fruitcakes can be big business. The two largest fruitcake companies hail from the rural South, where traditionally fruit and nutmeats were available at bargain prices. The top-selling fruitcake company is the Claxton Bakery out of Claxton, Georgia -- you've seen it with it's two inch square loaf that is about eight inches long and chucked full of Georgia pecans. The rival to Claxton is the Collin Street Bakery in Corsicana, Texas. The Claxton Bakery does not readily disclose exactly how many of their unusual brick shaped “beauties” are foisted upon humanity each year, but in one article they mention that a single government commissary once placed an order for 65,000 cakes. Oddly enough, a surprisingly large portion of all fruitcakes produced go to Japan!

For those brave few souls who feel inspired to actually do some fruitcake nibbling this holiday season, I can offer but a scant few tips. Sadly –perhaps I mean “happily”- my experience has been limited to only a few mass-produced examples of the fruitcake baker’s art. I suppose I should also warn you that my opinion is further handicapped by a hatred of maraschino cherries!

Most of the fruitcakes I’ve eaten have struck me as quite dry and bland, but find that the Claxton fruitcakes (while still bland compared to fruit breads like German stollen, Italian panetone, and French kougelhof) …the Claxton cakes have a wet dense texture that I find a bit more palatable than other options I’ve sampled -including the fruit-flavored CLIF and Powerbars that mountainbikers and "outdoorsy types" so often rave about. I've never had a Collin Street fruitcake, but know those who swear by them. (Or was it "at them?") I hear that the dark variety of fruitcake has a bolder flavor and that all of them are much improved if they’ve been baked with a little bourbon or some other liqueur.

Fruitcakes also improve with time; a good three months are required for the flavors from the fruits to fully blend and meld into the sweet doughy binder. Carefully stored, a fruitcake can last for years! The first thing to "go" on them will be the nuts.

Though I’ve never tried them, I hear that Trappist monks can make some pretty good fruitcakes! Two “orders” renowned for their bourbon laced cakes are the Abbey of Gethsemane near Louisville, Kentucky (www.monks.org) and the Holy Cross Abbey in Berryville, Virginia. (www.monasteryfruitcake.org).

For those curious to have a look at the operations of the top-producing Claxton Bakery their web address is www.claxtonfruitcake.com. And in the interest of granting equal billing for our "Texas friends" the Collin Street Bakery's site is www.collinstreetbakery.com.