Man oh man. I’ll tell you what: the holidays are always an adventure of one kind or another.
First, the gifts for work pals, as promised:
Bert: Dinner at the E&C on me, a couple days after Christmas. Bert has a thing for their grilled cheese, but he surprised me and went with some kind of chick pea arugula special. I had the elephantburger. We each had an Anchor and a Bass, and some quality conversation.
Count: Now, CVC is one of the few folks (including myself to some extent, I suppose) who really are kinda like you’d expect them to be. I mean, “the Count” is a character, to be sure, but the way he carries himself and the way he talks, that’s all him. He enjoys the finer things, and takes real care with his dough to make sure he can maintain that lifestyle. Really great guy, but keeps to himself, so he’s tough to shop for if you really want to get something he’d actually want. I didn’t want to kid myself by trying to shop for fancy stuff I didn’t understand, so I just picked him up a nice looking corkscrew and got it engraved with “With warm wishes, from Telly”. And seriously, I have never seen the guy really make contact with anyone like this: he put his hand on my shoulder, looked me right in the eye and said “Telly, not only is it perfect, it is exceptionally thoughtful. You let me know as soon as you have a free night and I’ll have you over to help me break it in.” He then went on to tell me he has some kind of kickass TV being shipped so I should wait until at least late next week so he can show it off.
Cookie: He and his live-in girlfriend just got a new puppy, so I got them a dog training book and one of those retractable leash things. This was admittedly a bit of a gamble given that, well, these are the things you buy yourself when you get a puppy… But if they already had stuff like that, he didn’t let on.
Ernie: E brews his own beer, he’s been really into it over the last year. He’s actually been bottling it and giving it to friends (thanks for the case, E!) and mentioned that he was thinking about getting more serious, so I bought him a “gift certificate” for a consultation and demo proofs from a graphic designer friend of mine, like for getting labels made. He was really stoked, he said he was a bit nervous about not being able to get around to it any time soon, but I told him it was cool, no expiration date or anything, so he was really excited.
Bird: Avid jogger. I know, he doesn’t look it, right? He did two half marathons last year and is pretty serious about trying to do a full this year. I don’t know how he even finds the time. I talked with his wife - she was getting him an iPod and one of those things where you put the thing in your shoe and it like talks to the iPod or something and it… screw it, it’s for jogging. I don’t get it. Anyhow, what goes better with an iPod than some music? I actually didn’t know what to do, but his wife said she’d get him a gift card of some kind and put it on the tree, from me. Everybody’s happy.
Prairie Dawn: Nicest dresser I know. Mom always taught me to never try to buy clothes for girls, so she gets a gift certificate to Anthropologie, which I know she’s a fan of.
There’s more, but I don’t want to spend any more time on that. I have to touch on the Christmas dinner experience before I go… I always spend it with my Mom, she always makes a ham, we always get a touch tipsy on cider and then brandy, and fall asleep watching terrible television. It’s just how we like it. This year? A little different. My uncle Dave got kicked out of his house on Christmas Eve. Why? His wife walked in on him banging his secretary. Again, on Christmas Eve. So not only is he staying at my mom’s already-too-small place, he is hammered. All day. And it’s not exactly easy to tell the guy who may have just permanently screwed up his family life that he needs to slow down. He’s not listening. And really, it may be the best thing for him.
So heading into the afternoon, I’m thinking it’ll probably be me and Mom just sharing sighs and eye-rolling from across the room every time Uncle Dave says something rude or racist or whatever, maybe helping him into bed when he can’t stand up anymore, and so on… Not quite. By 3pm he was so messed up he wet himself. This was right when we sat down at the table to eat. So obviously we’re not going to enjoy dinner while Dave is sitting there smelling of urine, and we have to clean him up. In the process, when he realizes that his sister and his nephew are essentially doing for him what normal adults only do for babies, he completely blows a gasket, starts yelling about not needing our help, shoves me against the bathroom door and shuffles down the hall with his pants around his ankles. I was fine, but clearly he had gone to the bad place so I held Mom back when she tried to follow him.
Next thing we know, he’s on the front porch, naked from the waist down, SCREAMING at this poor kid trying to walk his dog about how all women are <plural horrifically sexist expletive>. I mean seriously, this kid is probably damaged for life. At this point my Mom starts yelling at him, runs out the front door, immediately slips and lands on her ass and slides off the front step, taking out Dave’s legs and throwing him backward over her in the process. He whacks his head flat on the porch floor. He didn’t exactly lose consciousness, but it did seem that the process of passing out was accelerated. Mom was fine, her forward motion softened the vertical drop enough that all she got was a little scrape on her arm. I dragged Dave into the house and checked to make sure he was still responsive throughout the evening, but he slept right there on the floor by the front door. Mom was pissed. I keep meaning to call and find out what’s going on with Dave’s family. Stay tuned.
