So... I came home from the Day Job today, glad that tomorrow will be both Friday and Payday. I got out of my car and went to my mailbox (as I do every day) to find a catalog (the corner of which cane be seen in the upper right of the photo) and a rather strange box. Inside the box, wrapped in cellophane and surrounded by red tissue paper, I found an Eyeless Baby Doll's Head.
I must admit, I was a little freaked out, at first. "What the hell...?" I thought. "Is someone targeting me?"
Then I saw the silver ribbons and the nightlight attached to said Eyeless Baby Doll's Head and started to laugh.
Sometime in the last few weeks, I had posted a photo of a lamp made from a ceramic doll head on Facebook. It was creepy and funny and I loved it. I quickly realized the Eyeless Baby Doll's Head nightlight was a gift from someone who knew me well and lived nearby, even though there was no card or note included. I immediately posted the picture on your left to Facebook, noting that it had arrived quite unexpectedly and thanking whomever had sent it to me. While I have an idea as to who gave me this delightfully macabre gift, I can't be sure until the giver fesses up.
The best part? The bulb inside is red! Plugging it in revealed a ghoulishly hilarious night light that I hope will both delight and creep-out the friends who see it.
Thank you, anonymous Eyeless Baby Doll's Head nightlight giver! I truly love and appreciate this gift, more than you can imagine. A scare, a laugh and the the knowledge that someone cares enough to entertain me in such a way was a huge spirit lifter (albeit a slightly macabre one). My friends never cease to amaze me.
"I Could Ride That Lip All the Way to Trenton!" ~ Uncle P's Mother
Once again, some links in this post may be NSFW.
So, last night... Uncle P spent 90+ minutes writing, researching and linking hilarious and informative links in a post which I failed to revert to draft, forcing me to re-log into Blogger and lose everything I had painstakingly worked on to give you, what few faithful readers I have, a few moments of weird entertainment. I wasn't happy, but it certainly wasn't the end of the world, nor the first time my own neglectfulness had led to such an issue.
Today, my sweet, thoughtful mother (who is nothing like the Gerald Scarfe illustration linked in the Pouty Picture's caption) presented me with an "Anti-Fathers' Day" present. And before all you Grammar Nazis question it, the apostrophe is used the way it should be used in this case, meaning all fathers, rather than just yours, which would be written as 'Father's.' (Can you tell I'm in a mood? Thought you might.) Anyway... In the wake of my previously mentioned BIL's greatly appreciated semi-decimation of my long-neglected backyard's overgrowth, the task of disposing over-sized nuisance flora left behind by his Herculean effort seemed nothing short of over-whelming to yours truly. Mom, in her infinite thoughtfulness, saw this set of ratcheting pruning shears on my sister's competition and ordered them (in blue), thinking they might save me time and effort
And boy, was she right. I tried them out almost right away and found that they cut through some rather tough branches with little effort and thinner ones with almost none at all. Like 'buttah.' The hand shears took on weeds, smaller shrubs, saplings and rose branches just as easily, once I figured out how to open the damned things (no instructions led to some consternation when it came to figuring out the safety lock). I honestly haven't been so pleased by a practical gift in a very long time. If you're looking for a gift for Dad; Mom; Dads; Moms or even if you're just a homeowner with an overgrown yard, I highly recommend them. They were purchased from the major home-shopping channel that is not located in the F state. And if that doesn't help, it starts with the same letter as one of my dearest friend's name.
Sadly, my joy over the amazing pruners was soon negated, once again by own stupidity. Plans had been made for Q, Dale, K and I to see Man of Steel at our central (i.e. default) AMC multiplex. In an effort to control my credit card spending, Uncle P chose not to buy tickets online, instead picking up K in time (or so I thought) to buy tickets once at the theater. For the first time in all my of memory, Uncle P was shut out of a sold-out movie. Of course, Q and Dale (like sane people) had pre-purchased their tickets on-line. After much texting and an actual phone call; malfunctioning automated ticket machines and an aborted attempt to buy tickets to another movie at the same time (thanks to the aforementioned MTMs) K and I went for a drink and then went home. I will have other chances to see Man of Steel this week, though there's nothing like seeing a movie with one's best friends.
While I'm still hoping that Dear D, Mike and I will see This Is the End this week as well, I came home to find a friend had sent me a link the very Bromantic video embedded below, which actually made me feel a little better. What can I say, but 'Kiss Me, Guido?'
Yes, I know there are people who can barely feed their families, let alone afford to go to a movie. Yes, there are far worse things in the world than lost blog posts and sold-out movies. I'd like to think of myself as someone who not only has compassion and empathy for others (i.e. 'Not a Jerk'). I volunteer and do charity work. I smile at everyone (even those who refuse to smile back), though I don't suffer fools, easily.
None of that means that I don't get to pout now and then, does it? I mean, I know plenty of folks who pout regularly (in fact, almost incessantly) on various forms of social media. Am I being a 'drama queen' tonight? Maybe. Churlish? Possibly. A 'White Whiner?" Perhaps. But who isn't, at least once a while? Damn! I really wanted to see some Cavill, tonight!
As a Bond fan since I was kid (damn, Connery was sexy), I have had my share of yeahs and nays among Bond portrayals. George Lazenby - no. Roger Moore - meh. Timothy Dalton - lame. Pierce Brosnan - maybe. Brosnan was by far the best choice since Connery, as far as I am concerned.
Then they announced the newest Bond - Daniel Craig in Casino Royale. Like many Bond fans, I was initially up in arms about Craig's casting. How could this lemon-sucking, squinty-eyed, bulb-nosed blond play the sexiest spy in screen in history? I joined the haters and vowed not to see the 2006 movie. But then the pictures of Craig in that blue bathing suit came out. And then the mostly excellent movie came out and almost all was forgiven. Of course, it helped that the movie was the best Bond film since the Connery era. Then came 2008's Quantum of Solace. The plot made as much sense as the title (granted, it was developed during the 2007-2008 Writers' Strike) and I lost faith in both Craig and the franchise. What a mess of a movie. Worse than even the worst of the Moore Bond movies, Quantum had me ready to give up on filmdom's longest-running franchise altogether.
Today, D and I finally got together for the holidays and sawa matinee of the latest in the 50-year old series, Skyfall, before exchanging our holiday gifts (more on those in a moment). And I am happy to report that director Sam Mendes (American Beauty; Revolutionary Road) has finally managed to create an exciting, entertaining and narratively sensical Bond movie.
Presumed dead after falling from a train in Turkey, Bond returns to MI6 after a terrorist attack kills six agents and destroys M's (Dame Judi Dench) office. Following a trail of murder, money and babes, Bond is eventually captured by the villain Silva (Javier Bardem). Thanks to the new Q (Cloud Atlas cutie Ben Wishaw), Silva is captured (after a rather homoerotically charged encounter with Bond) and it is revealed that Silva is actually a former MI6 agent intent on taking revenge on M because... well, see it for yourselves. When Silva escapes (via a rather contrived plot device), Bond takes M to hischildhood home for safe-keeping and a final confrontation with Silva and his henchmen. Along the way, bad guys are eaten by Komodo dragons; exotic weapons are employed and beautiful women are used and abused by both good and bad guys.
Craig, as a very stoic and far-less wise-cracking Bond, spends much of the first half of the movie half-naked, satisfying a good 2/3 of the audience while still managing to create the rather tortured Bond of Ian Fleming's novels. Bardem (his hair and eyebrows bleached, adding an extra-creepiness to his bug-eyed, lop-sided nose visage) is perfect and the always wonderful Dench gets lots more screen time than usual. Add Ralph Fiennes as the less-uptight-prig-than-he-seems MI6 administrator; the gorgeous Naomie Harris as Moneypenny and the (surprisingly still-alive) Albert Finney as an aging Bond family ally, and you end up with what is probably the best Bond film of the last 20 years.
As with every Bond film, the plot devises; action and sex scenes are ridiculous on the surface. But they are all redeemed by some terrific performances and a plot which actually makes sense for a change. D and I both enjoyed this latest entry entry in the franchise, though we differed on whether it was better than the last two films. I said it was, while he he thought it wasn't as good as Casino Royale. *** (Three Out of Four Stars).
As for our Holiday get-together, D gave me one of my favorite gifts this year:
I so love that those I love and those who love me, know me so well!
I am torn between displaying this gem at home or the Day Job. The folks at the Day Job already think I'm insane, while those who know me best know so.
So... last Saturday's snow/rain/sleet storm prevented Uncle P from having a holiday dinner and gift exchange with some of my oldest and dearest friends, with whom I get together every few months for a culinary experiment. This time we weren't taking any chances, but planned a simple and traditional Italian meal of lasagna and meatballs. Luckily, both freeze well and we were able to reschedule for tonight.
Mary's lasagna was just delicious and 17 of Uncle P's 18 rustic meatballs marinara were consumed by the seven of us. Of course, Q's delightful salad with thick, sweet Black Walnut Balsamic and Deb's amazing red velvet cupcakes made it a rather amazing meal.
After dinner, those of us who hadn't already done so, finally got to exchange our Holiday gifts (I lovedeverything I got). Of course, as always with this particular group of friends (most of whom I've known for well-over 30 years), the meal and gifts are a far distant second to spending time together. Spending time with these six very dear friends (and a few others) helps make the mendacity of everyday life less so. I hope you have some equally amazing people in your life who make it better just by being a part of it.
Tomorrow I will be having my last gift exchange of the season, when Dear D and I meet for a matinee showing of Skyfall (which I'll be reviewing tomorrow night), followed immediately by drinks and yet more gifts.
I hope your weekend is as good as mine has been (and promises to continue to be). I'll try and recreate my aborted "American Horror Story" post from last night on Monday, unless something else catches my attention between now and then.
Many years ago, a straight friend told me: "Martinis are like breasts: One isn't enough and three are two many." Personally, I love a good Sapphire martini: dry; up; no fruit. And three are just enough, thank you.
The same rule does not apply to gifts, though. I am assuming that the popular Amazon Wish List is responsible for me receiving three of the same Christmas gifts from three different friends. And while I am not about to reveal who those friends are or what the gift is, I will say that I certainly appreciate the thought from all three of them. And to be totally fair, I put all three behind my back and shuffled them, then did "eenie-meenie-miney-moe" to choose which one I would keep and which two I would return.
Of course, this means I have three friends who care enough about me to check my Amazon Wish List and buy something from it. It also means I have three friends who know me well enough to know which item on my Amazon Wish List would make me the happiest to receive. And all three of these folks are people about whom I care very much and I would never hurt their feelings by telling them that they had bought me the same gift. Not that any of them would mind, actually -- still, etiquette must prevail.
Thank you, all three of you, for caring. I hope none of you are offended by my exchanging your gift. You all made me happy to know you care. I'll let you know what you got me instead, as soon as I get to the mall.
My friends and family know me so well. The image to your left is of the very Steampunk Trinket Box given to me by Q, K and Dale, along with a brain-shaped ice-cube tray and a set of Farm Animal Butt Magnets. Other than making me laugh, the ice tray and magnets had nothing to do with the very cool trinket box (it has a compass on the lid!). I still love them all.
Of course, my sister was just as successful in her Holiday plotting. Along with her annual Jack Skellington T-shirt. my sister sent me a Box-O'-Zombie stuff which included a metal Zombie Warning Sign; two different Zombie decals; a "Zombie On Board" magnet and an "I Heart Zombies" keychain. She also sent along a "Box of Boogers" gummies; an AMC gift card and a super-insulated Batman tumbler.
Sis Knows Me Well
I really love how the colors of her three very different gifts go so well together in that picture of them beneath my tiny tree and atop my cable box and D's Christmas gift. I also got a terrific set of Skullcandy earbuds; a car charger for my Smartphone; lots of much-needed new socks and underwear; an outstanding sonic toothbrush; a pair of extendable, bendable, magnetic LED flashlights and 3 jars of the most delicious mixed nuts and dried fruitI've ever tasted.
And while I mostly bought it for Mom, the big hit this year was the new Keurig Platinum coffee maker (which I got for a deal I couldn't pass up). Mom loves how fast and easy it is. I also bought it for myself, so I don't have to clean four separate elements of a self-grinding coffee-maker every night. Initially disappointed that my sister didn't send her usual 5 Lb bag of coffee beans, Mom quickly got over it when she finally opened the K-Cups Sis sent, instead.
I still have at least two gift exchanges to go (hopefully the weather will cooperate this coming Saturday) and D and I will get to see a matinee and exchange before I have to go back to the Day Job.
The holidays for me are always much more about giving, though I am always thrilled when my friends and family know me well enough to give me stuff is both useful and makes me laugh.
Happily, no one I know got either of these, this year:
I will be spending this evening wrapping and bagging gifts, rather than doing a full post.
I went overboard, as usual. But that's my mother's and grandmother's faults. They were always overly-generous at Christmas, often just to get my father's Grinchy goat. A child of the depression who was glad to get an orange and some walnuts in his stocking, it drove him crazy to see such indulgence. My sister and I thought everyone had such extravagant Christmases and were often dismayed to see some of our friends' more austere holidays, wondering how bad they had to have been to deserve so little. My mother's mother was a character and she loved spoiling me and my sister. I carry on that tradition, mostly to spoil my mother back. Her health isn't the best and none of us knows how many Christmases we have left. I had a good year for overtime, so why not splurge?
As in the picture above, my gifts are usually color-coordinated and decorated, but I cheat and use pre-made bows. I can arrange flowers and planters; skyline a display shelf; color coordinate without using swatches and even throw together a centerpiece using a candle, some greens, twigs and pine cones scavenged from my own backyard, but I'll be damned if I can tie a decent bow to save my life.
The lady in this video does pretty much everything I do though I do the ends differently (I fold the sides in first). I do "finger press" or crease the edges. Of course, this is only useful for square or rectangular packages. Odd shapes and sizes may require some creative solutions, or even a gift bag.
We'll talk about Rebecca De Mornay's on screen parenting history and Darren Lynn Bousman's re-imagining of Charles Kaufman's 1980 'classic' (and I use the term loosely here) in a moment. I promise. It's not like I've seen it or anything, so cool your jets, okay?
"Cool your jets" was something my mother used to say to my sister and I when we got too excited or worked up about something. I don't know how well it worked, but she said it. A lot. These days, Mom says plenty of amusing things - her malapropisms, Spoonerisms and downright mispronunciations are often quite hilarious (luckily to both of us). Mom wanted nothing more than to be a mother. She still gets all weepy and adoring at the sight of a cute baby (young "Raising Hope" stars Baylee and Rylee Cregut are among her -- and I must admit, my -- current favs).
Mom's also a very girly-girl mom. You all know what I mean. She loves girly things: butterflies; wind chimes; bird-feeders; flowers; kittens; diamonds... Not that boys can't or shouldn't love those things... (What the hell did I just start there? I didn't mean to start anything. -- Shut up, Bri! You're just making it worse! Oh, crap!)
Anyway - After a delicious brunch of homemade, stuffed challa bread French toast this mid-morning, Mom opened her gifts from me. She got a stained-glass butterfly chime; a 3D butterfly bookmark and... because she had asked for it for Christmas but didn't get it, two paint-by-number kits: a cat curled up on a bookshelf and finches among hyacinths. She's worried they'll be too complicated for her, bu if she takes her time, I'm sure they'll be beautiful. And of course, even if they're not, I'll tell her they are.
My mother tells me that there isn't a day that goes by that she doesn't miss her own mother, who passed away in 1983. I know that one day I'll know what that feels like but until then, I'll just be glad she's here to tell her how much I love and appreciate her and give her presents. I know lots of folks who aren't close to their moms, and that makes me sad. If your mom is still with you, count your blessings and tell her you love her. You won't be able to one day.
And now once again I find myself segueing from at least sort of sad to silly. So here goes:
Rebecca De Mornay first caught audiences' attention as the train-loving prostitute Lana opposite Tom Cruise in his star-making role in the 1983 teen sex comedy Risky Business.She did several things after that, but it wasn't until 1992's The Hand that Rocks the Cradle, in which she played an evil, scheming nanny, that we really got to see her chew some scenery. She played Wendy in the TV version of The Shining and did plenty of TV shows. And now she's back on the big screen in a movie that was origanlly scheduled for release in 2010, Mother's Day. In the 1980 original, two-backwoods loons (Fredrick Coffin and Michael McCleery) brought sluts home for their elderly mother (Beatrice Pons) to mete out punishment. In the new version, De Mornay plays Mother Koffin (sound familiar?), who returns to the home she once owned with her boys in tow, ready to wreak havoc on slutty teens, once again. Reviews for the film have been spotty, at best, though most critics are quite complimentary to De Mornay and can't help but compare Mother Koffin to Peyton Flanders from ...Cradle. I like that De Morney, while never a huge star, sill manages to fly under the radar while garnering excellent reviews for her performances. As a character actor myself, I get it. It's great to play all these wonderfully diverse and ofetn eccentric roles, but it's even better when you can steal the whole thing for yourself.
Mother's Day is currently playing in limited release. As soon as this boy in the sticks gets the chance to see it, I'll be reviewing it.
And yes, that isIceman, cutie Shawn Ashmore as one of Mama's boys.
I am very behind in my holiday preparations this year and will spend much of the night wrapping presents that will be opened tomorrow night, hence the earlier-than-usual post today.
I take great pride in my holiday packages. I always make sure the ribbons, bows, paper and tags are all coordinated, my edges are sharp, the ends folded over and the corners are nice and tight. And I try to make sure they create a pretty display under the tree.
This year, I have decided to not do that at all. I have so many rolls of left-over paper from who knows how many years, that I am going to wrap every present in a different paper and just have a riot of color and patterns. And while I do have a couple dozen gifts to wrap, this will hardly put a dent in all that paper. Maybe I'll do the same thing next year, too. It will probably save me a bundle on wrapping paper for a while. And it'll be just a little bit 'green.'
I also wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who, both here and on Facebook, gave such wonderful advice on yesterday's post. It's good to know that so many folks care. Thankfully, I won't have to really deal with the issue until after the holidays. I'll be sure to let you know what happens.
If I don't get the chance to do so before, please allow me to wish you a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Joyous Kwanzaa and/or whatever holiday you celebrate at this time of year. Thanks for reading me. And thanks for your comments. You should all know by now how much I love hearing from you.
Anyway, here's my early Christmas present to all of you; a funny bit-o-nonsense starring Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes. Enjoy:
So, yesterday I posted about the ZomBarbie I gave Mia for Christmas. Today, she returned the favor and gave me the "Dead Baby Wreath" you see to your right, hanging on the closet in my day-job cubicle.
Yes, we are sick. No, I take that back. We are hilarious. Both of us recognize the absurdity of life, punctuated by the indignity of death. Both of us appreciate our mortality and the cruel joke that religion has perpetrated on most people.
As always, I encourage you to believe what you will, no matter how ridiculous it may seem. Whatever gets you through the night, Baby. As far as I (and Mia) are concerned, life is what you make it, here and now. What matters is what you do, not what you believe.
Be kind to and love one another. Help those in need when you can. Help yourself and those you love (and those who love you), first. Bring joy wherever and however you can. A smile created (no matter how morbid the joke) is worth more than a million dollars. And if the joke's on you, don't blame the joker. Laugh along and find a way to make a joke at the joker's expense. You'll both be better people for it. The worst thing that will ever happen to you is going to happen, no matter what you do. Embrace it and move on -- you'll be all the better for having done so.
Once again, this turned out to be a completely different post than I had planned, but it is a post I suppose I needed to share. The end of the calendar year brings out the philosopher in me, I guess.
My 70 year-old mother accidentally drove through the front of a local dry cleaner's store today. No one was hurt (thank goodness), but she and I were both shaken up. What does that have to do with anything else I've been rambling about? I guess it's this: Life's short. Enjoy its nonsense while you can.
More, anon.
Prospero
P.S. - The sign in the lower left corner of that picture actually read: "Sarah Palin - 2012. The World's Supposed to End, Anyway."
I just couldn't wait to give my sweet, sick little Mia her Christmas present this year: the custom 'ZomBarbie' you see to your left. I actually wanted to make this for her for her birthday, but ran out of time. In fact, I was worried I wouldn't have the time to do it for Christmas. But once I got started on it, it went rather quickly. The hardest part was severing Barbie's arm. I used my heavy-duty crafting clippers and it still took several tries from a few different angles to get it, but I think the mangled stump turned out quite well. And the smear on the box's plastic (the result of not-quite-dry paint) was a rather happy accident.
Now, before you think we're both completely insane (as if you don't already), one of the things my co-worker and I bonded on immediately was our love of the zombie genre. And my regular readers know how much I loves me some good zombie-related content. And Mia, a lover of Batman comics and Zombie movies, recognized a kindred soul as soon as we met. Of course, our fellow co-workers think we're absolutely bonkers (and perhaps we are), but they understand (or at least pretend to) our special relationship. And honestly, what else do a gay man of a certain age and 20+ years younger straight woman have to bond about? (Don't answer that question, thank you.)
Mia made me the amazing Teddy-Z a few years ago, and has warned me that her forthcoming gift to me may well cement out reputations as the office loonies (I can't wait to see what she's planning), but I don't care.
And honestly, there is something quite cathartic about turning an American Icon into its antithesis. All I really cared about was making a friend happy at Christmas. Mia's exceptionally enthusiastic response (she immediately posted this picture of it on Facebook) to her gift was well worth the effort it took to make it.
And now, on to the completely unrelated second half of this post.
While I still haven't seen last year's critically reviled remake of Clash of the Titans, I must admit to being quite excited by the trailer for its completely unnecessary sequel Wrath of the Titans. Do Liam Neesom, Ralph Fiennes and Sam Worthintgton really need the money? I neither know nor care, I just want to see how ridiculous this movie might be.
And how many films need to use Marilyn Manson's cover of "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" in their trailers? As my friend Megan is wont to say, "Que Queso!"
I don't remember the last time I got a new cell phone. Maybe six or seven years ago. I do remember that it was free when I upgraded to a new plan. It was a little white flip phone and I was so excited to not have a clunky phone with an antenna. And that phone served me well.
Granted, I have not been a texter (the buttons were small; my fingers are big) and I only used it to make and receive actual calls. I rarely turned it on; only when I was making or expecting a call or sometimes while on my way to rehearsal. I scoffed at people who bought iPhones. "Why do you need to spend $400 on a phone? That's ridiculous!"
Then, this summer I went on a business trip to Chicago. As my co-workers and I sat in the airport waiting for our flight to board, they all pulled out their phones to play games; check their email; watch videos or text their friends and family; while I sat quietly staring into space, feeling jealous and bored. Granted, I had a book to read. But I wasn't in the mood to do so. Watching them being entertained so easily, I decided then and there that my next phone would be better.
So Christmas started to approach. 'Santa' (my mother) asked what I wanted. "A new phone," was my immediate response. I started researching, basing my criteria mostly on price. I could get a smart phone from my carrier (I've been with T-Mobile even before they were T-Mobile and have been quite happy with them) at Walmart for less than $50.00. So, off 'Santa' and I went. We quickly discovered that while the price of the phone was cheap enough, the monthly plan was outrageous. "What about the $49.99 a month plan they advertise?" I asked the very disinterested clerk. "Oh," she said. "You have to go to the T-Mobile store for that."
'Santa' said, "Okay. Just go to the T-Mobile store and pick out the phone you want and I'll pay for it. But don't spend more than $XX.00."
So while finishing my Christmas shopping on Saturday, I did just that. Of course, the phone I wanted was more than twice $XX.00. But the knowledgeable and patient salesman (actually, the store manager, who had dealt quite professionally with a very difficult customer before me) worked with me and we managed to come up with a deal and a plan that made everyone happy. 'Santa' paid for the down-payment on the phone, the 'skin' and the tax, while the remaining balance was broken up into $10.00 interest-free payments added to my monthly $49.99 unlimited plan. I got a top-of-the line smart phone that does everything but wash the dishes and tuck me in at night and 'Santa' even gets a $50.00 rebate. Double-plus good, no?
I'm still in the learning curve with the my new MyTouch phone. I have to sit down with the book, even thought the salesman told me just to play with the phone and discover it on my own. And I have to give it back to 'Santa' on Friday so she can wrap it and give it back to me on Saturday night. But that's okay. Maybe by then, I'll actually have figured how to use half of the functions it comes with. At least I can say I am "Walking in a 4G Wonderland." That is what they're singing, right?
I hope your 'Santa' brings you what you want for Christmas; Xmas; Hanukkah; Kwanzaa or Solstice this holiday season. More importantly, I hope you take the time to appreciate the people you love, the people who love you and all the blessings in your life.
More, anon.
Prospero
P.S. - I donated my old phone to Cell Phones for Soldiers, which supplies phones for our military men and women who may not have one of their own, so they can call loved ones while serving their country. It's the very least I could do to thank them for preserving our freedom.
Well, despite the monsters lurking amongst us, I finally feel it is the Christmas season. Temperatures have dropped and tonight I wrapped the gifts that I am shipping down to my sister and brother-in-law in Florida.
It's not as much as I would like to or even usually send, but it's been a tough year for everyone. I'm spending less all around, this year. And the older we get, the harder it is to find the perfect gift (though I do pride myself on my gift-choosing skills). No one has ever looked at a gift I've given them and said "What the hell is this?" I can't always say the same about some of the gifts I've received.
Of course, the gifts aren't really the point.
For me, Christmas has always been about celebrating the love between family and friends. And as I've said repeatedly, I feel so very blessed to have so many wonderful people in my life. I can't imagine how empty my life would be without them. They make me laugh (and sometimes cry). They bring me joy (and sometimes sorrow). They offer ears to listen, shoulders to cry on and hands to lift me up. They go along with my crazy schemes; they perform for and with me; they accompany me to the movies and the theatre; they keep my secrets and share theirs; they know me as well as I know them.
So, while religious Christians celebrate Christmas as the birth of their spiritual savior, I celebrate my many spiritual saviors - the folks I love and who love me in return. So let me wish you all an early Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Good Solstice and the best in the coming New Year.
Oh - and here's the Gayest Holiday Thing You'll See This Week:
By the way - for those who find offense at the use of "Xmas," you should know that the 'X' in "Xmas" comes from the first letter of the Greek word for 'Christ.' Y'all need to get over that, already.
I miss my mother's mother. "Grandmom Cookie" (so named because she always had a cookie jar of goodies for us)* was a barmaid. She was funny and salty and did everything she could to make my father crazy. She had Tuesdays off, and she would come over and take my mother and I out shopping, often buying my sister and I anything we wanted, which drove my father absolutely bonkers. One day, after a particularly generous trip, my father said "Jesus Christ! You'd buy those kids the world, if you could!" The next week my sister and I came home with globes. I never really wondered how I ended up with such a sarcastic sense of humor.
Cookie would come and spend the night on Christmas Eve and my sister and I would open her presents that night and presents from Santa on Christmas morning. One year, after a particularly prosperous season, we opened a few gifts from Cookie, only to find about a hundred more from her the next morning. the entire house was filled with presents. The living room; the hallways; the kitchen and even the bathroom were piled high with toys. I can still see my father, steam practically pouring out of ears, unable to say a word because it was her prerogative to spoil us rotten if she wanted to.
The first Christmas after Grandmom Cookie passed away (just a few moths earlier, in October) was rather sad. Mom, deciding we needed some cheering up, let us open one present on Christmas Eve. The following year, we opened all our presents on Christmas Eve. Neither my sister nor I believed in Santa any more, and it seemed a fitting way to honor Cookie's memory. The tradition has remained and we always open our presents on Christmas Eve, leaving Christmas Day as a day of leisure. We sleep in, I make an awesome brunch and we just relax for the rest of the day.
Of course, Grandmom's generosity has spilled over to me, and I often find myself buying too many gifts for those I love. That doesn't mean that I equate Christmas with tons of gifts or that I'm obsessed with 'things.' But I did learn how to shop for holiday gifts that have meaning to the folks about whom I care. And seeing their faces when they open those gifts gives me more joy than any present I might receive, could.
This year, I tried to restrain myself. A few of my dearest friends decided we should set limits on our spending, and I did my best to abide by their wishes, though went overboard as usual with everyone else. And while the money I spent this year was probably less than lest year, knowing I got gifts that will bring smiles to the faces of those I love is what matters to me.
So, what's the point of this post, you may well ask? I suppose it's only to remind you that giving is the best part of Christmas (whether or not you are a 'believer') and that having people in your life for whom you want to buy gifts is far more important than the gifts you receive from them.
I hope you have as many people you love in your life as I do. I always feel blessed for those in mine. Without them, I'd just be some opinionated jerk with Internet access...
More, anon.
Prospero
* That is almost the exact cookie jar Grandmom had, BTW
Just a quick post tonight to wish each and everyone of you the best this Holiday Season. For me, all holidays are secular. I suppose I celebrate the season more as an ancient pagan might; feasting and sharing and glad for the passing of another year above ground. (Too dark? Sorry). And yes, we should celebrate those things every day, but its nice to have a special time set aside for doing extra.
We share our bounty with family, friends and those less fortunate. We eat differently; we get secretive and excited; we wrap gifts in paper to heighten the suspense and take special delight when a gift hits the recipient's mark (or when a giver hits yours). We hug and kiss and carry on; we drink more alcohol and eat more sugar and regret it two weeks after its all over. We spend too much; we stress too much; we run around too much and we put so much pressure on ourselves to have a "perfect" holiday. The best holidays I can remember were always about who I was with, rather what was going on around us or what presents were exchanged.
If you are reading this post, then you are hopefully taking a break from Holiday Madness in search of some insight (or at least a chuckle). Or maybe you're hoping for one of my occasional links to some half-naked hottie or a YouTube clip:
I'll be back on the Zombie Zone this Saturday (and you should check it to see my favorite Christmas gift so far, from the same kindred spirit who made my "Princess Unicorn" doll last year) and then again with my review (finally) of Avatar Sunday night or early Monday morning.
Eat well, give wisely and spend time with those you love this weekend. Uncle Prospero * certainly plans to do so, and strongly suggests you follow his advice. We wouldn't want this happening, would we?:
Okay - I got a lot of terrific presents this year for Christmas. I got a Wii and the Ed Wood Box DVD Collection; I got lots of great music and a remote controlled zombie and I even got a home-made version of the Princess Unicorn doll from my friend, Mia. But what I didn't get was this (via):
I know it says Sunday, but I've been up since 6AM , so it's still Saturday to me. I worked my one mandatory Saturday morning a year today, and afterwards met with some friends for lunch and holiday shopping in a nearby artsy community about halfway between our homes. I managed to buy a few small things for several people, but am still vexed by the need for a few more major gifts, and was ultimately disappointed in my efforts (though happily surprised with the small, funny things I did manage to pick up).
Now, I start my Christmas shopping every year in May in Florida. I hit the huge outlet malls and the Disney and Universal Studios Stores; I scour the old beachfront gift malls and the odd places along International Drive in Orlando. I probably manage to score about 40% of my gifts there, 7 months early! And trust me, I'm not one of those people who buys gifts and then forgets where he put them. I can smell a bargain at ten paces and outshop any straight woman (or gay man, for that matter) without batting an eye. This past summer, I also bought a few things at the JTMF silent auction. And last November, I was in San Francisco and Napa for four days, and bought quite a few things out there. This year I was in Chicago for two days in October and bought none. Still, i need only something for my brother-in-law and my very dearest friend.
The real trouble is, it seems that there's nothing terribly exciting in any stores this year. The malls and department stores are always the same old crap; and even the specialty and gift stores have nothing new to offer. Last year, I found the perfect things for so many people. This year... some. So, with only a few weeks left before I start exchanging, I am unusually late in completing my list.
So how is your holiday shopping going? And more importantly, wha'ja get me?
