The Life of Me
Part 3 - The Spirit of Christmas - 190 Proof and Homemade
So I just took my dog out to the bathroom. She took an enormous dump, as Great Danes will, and while I was picking it up with my trusty plastic Wal-mart type bag I thought of Christmas with the family.
Christmas with the Eos extended family is a grand affair. Food, presents, kids underfoot, food, booze, pot, and food. The gathering is usually held at my aunt's house since she's the only one with a doublewide big enough to hold everybody. Upon each guest's arrival, they are cordially announced with the greeting of, "Well, there she is!" or "Well, there he is!" or "Well, there they are!" Each guest is required to smile stiffly, and quickly locate his or her 'comfort group'. Can't waste a minute before finding out who's pissed off at who.
During this getting reaquainted period, it is quickly established which family members have done what to be scorned. The idea is reinforced that if it wasn’t for our Grandmother, NOBODY would show up at this stupid fucking thing at all. One needs to rely on one’s Spidey sense to segregate the family into 'approachable' and 'non-approachable' groups. You need to take in to account that if you're caught talking to one of the scorned, you may very well end up on next year’s shit list too. My family makes this list and checks it twice. Bet your ass.
You might think that this is all pretty straightforward. You would be wrong. Within these groups lie sub-groups or individuals that are stuck in a perpetual "damned if they do and damned if they don't" category.
Example: Uncle #1 is a dick. Everybody knows he's a dick and there's always a brand shiny new story to back this up. Further undeniable proof of his phallic ways. Like we need to be reminded, right? Avoid Uncle #1 like the plague. Ten minutes after he walks through the door, his daughter and her family shows up. Now, daughter is a real chip off the old dick. She's got the personality of a pissed off Mongoloid grizzly bear and an ass to match. We don't like her either. But... her husband is a really cool guy. Very easy going, always smiling and making small talk. Plus. he's a cigarette smoker which puts him in an entirely different sub-category of acceptance. He is thought of very highly but has to sit with Uncle Dick and is married to Dickette. You can see where this would get tricky. We don't count the kids. Yes, they both need to be severely beaten for the way they act, but it's not their fault. It becomes their fault at around 12 years of age or so. Then they're fair game. Oh yeah, Uncle Dick #1 also has two male spawn. I'm not even going to go into detail about those knuckle dragging fucktards. 'Nuff said.
Uncle #2 is an asshole. He's one of those overly- loud- because- he- thinks- he's- funny kind of guys. He doesn't show up at these blessed events on a regular basis and doesn't live up the family's collective ass either. He's a bit of a mystery. One thing’s for sure though. He's an asshole. Not a shithead, an asshole. I was never quite sure of the difference between the two, but this was cleared up for me by the captain of the schooner I worked on in Key West. He commented while watching a drunk guy trying to pick up a local hotty, "Ya know the difference between a shithead and an asshole?" I said, "No sir." He said, "A shithead doesn't know any better." Captain Finbar speaks truth.
In any case, Uncle Asshole is barely tolerated. His wife (the fifth one, I believe) got in a really serious car wreck and almost died. He was given a reprieve by the family for that one. Probably just until she's not wearing that halo thing screwed into her head anymore. Then it's business as usual.
Aunt #1 is pretty cool. She's a follower for the most part, but she's been a stoner for so long that she fails to really give a shit. This doesn't keep her from jumping right into the middle of all the good gossip, though. It’s just that half the time she's so busy smiling about the fact that the M&M bowl is full, she misses what's going on anyway. She's a funny lady and everybody loves her.
Aunt #2 died two years ago in April. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and lived for over a year with that stuff. She was everybody’s favorite aunt, favorite daughter, favorite sister, and favorite niece. I hope to never have to watch anyone go through that again. Ever. Even though she's no longer with us physically, it would not be Christmas if I didn't mention her. She loved everybody and got the same in return. She never met a stranger and never talked to you when you didn't feel you were the only person that mattered to her in the world.
Sibling #5. My mother. Hypochondriac, two-faced, fitting in stoner wannabe, annoying as shit, only tolerated by everyone because she's a couple tacos short of a combo platter. They're scared, I tell ya.
My grandmother is the reason this fiasco still goes on every year. Everybody feels this sense of obligation to be there even though we all bitch about it. Constantly. She's a born again Bible thumper, too. (Can I get an "Amen!") Her main function at this gathering is to walk around and smile at everybody. We're all secretly glad she's getting older and that she doesn't make her rounds as much as she used to. This way she doesn't interrupt us while we’re talking about other people. Plus, we don't have to fake as many smiles. It all works out.
"Grammy's" second function at this partay is to make sure that everybody says grace at least once a year. People have been shoving shit in their faces since they walked in the door, but the 'meal' doesn't begin until she says so. Inevitably the announcement is made in her little warbly Grammy voice, "Okay everybody! Let's gather round to say grace!" Suppressed groans all around. Like the Queen of Trailerparkville, she is given her soapbox, scepter and free reign. Jesus. Here we go.
We get to hear all about how God did this and Jesus did that and how the church is great and how 'by golly all of you kids should think about going' and about how it's changed her life, etc, etc, so on and so forth, +10. She can, and has, made this last 20 minutes or so.
I briefly mentioned Uncle Dick's two male knuckle dragging spawn. One of them earned a very small place in my heart one year. When the announcement was made to say grace he stood up and yelled, "GRACE!" That wasn’t the part that was funny, necessarily. It was the looks on the faces of everybody else there. The younger crowd snickered and tried real hard to hold back laughing out loud. The older folks looked at him as if he had just grabbed the Virgin Mary out of the brand new K-Mart nativity and tea-bagged her on the living room floor. Fucking priceless. I'm probably going to hell for laughing at that, but it still cracks me up.
For the people in attendance who are under the age of 40, peeking during grace has become a family tradition. It has remained an undiscussed phenomena for over 25 years. We (the under 40 crowd) arrange ourselves so that we have a clear view of the other clowns taking part in this ritual. We usually let Grammy drone on for about 20 seconds before we start… Just to be sure all the old people have fallen asleep and won't catch us. The goal is to make the other peekers in the group laugh. There are no rules whatsoever.
It's gotten markedly more difficult over the years though. Not because the old people are getting wise to us, oh no. Now we have to hide what we're doing from our children too. Sadly, I can see the day come when we're just too tired to continue. It will be the next generation's turn to peek during grace. But, at least we'll get a nap out of the deal.
by
Eos
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What is this, 1967?
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