Christmas time wears me out. Despite my best efforts to minimize stress, something always fucks things up and dashes my plans for a trouble-free December.
This year I made an even greater effort than last year to avoid the major shopping centers in my town and their horrific traffic jams. I ordered practically every gift online except for a few little stocking stuffers for the wife, which I am procuring at a small confectionery away from the pushing, shoving throngs. I was doing pretty well at this little game until this past Friday.
On Friday, my office had its annual holiday party, after which we closed early. Precious freedom! I was excited and overjoyed at the prospect of going home and wallowing about in front of my beautiful new 47-inch flat-panel TV my parents bought for me as an early Christmas present. However, my dear wife needed me to procure a few items to bring to a friend's party the next evening, and also rent a Redbox movie for that night. One little errand, I thought to myself. No biggie.
That's where the ass-fucking began. Redbox has a lovely reservation feature, with which you can reserve a DVD through their website and pick it up at the requested machine. Using this feature, I could see that the only machine containing our desired film was at a grocery store in the middle of a Christmas-shopping hellhole that gets so congested with traffic that they have to hire traffic control personnel. I intended to use a promotional coupon for 66% off, only to discover that such codes can't be used for online reservations. What the fuck good is it, then? Goddamn Redbox. Desperate for cheap Friday night entertainment, I reserved it anyway, for the full $1, at the undesirable location. It took me about 15 minutes to get through the ridiculous traffic and reach the grocery store when it should have taken 5 minutes. This is a store I seldom patronize due to its overwhelming size and illogical layout. Why in the fuck did they keep the pita chips on their own rack on the opposite end of the store from the snack isle? I went up and down every isle twice looking for Craisins, and of course every carton of eggs has at least one cracked egg because they hire retarded gorillas to stock the dairy case. After maybe 45 minutes in that god-forsaken pit of human misery, I finally found everything on the jumbled shopping list and got the fuck out of there. Halfway home, I realized I'd forgotten the goddamned movie! So I had to get my ass back there, taking a back route this time, which I should have done in the first place. This time I said fuck it, and parked in the reserved "customer with child" space, probably drawing dirty looks from goody-goodies, but at that point I didn't give a flying fuck. I finally made it home about 4:30. Oh, did I mention that the office party was held at an employee's house almost in the next town? So even though we were released at 2:15, it was 2:45 by the time I got home, and then it was right back out the door again. I lost an hour and 45 minutes of my precious afternoon off thanks to all the other assholes who can't plan ahead and do all their consumerism at the last minute.
Well, at least that was the low point of the weekend. We enjoyed our movie night on our fabulous new TV, and had a good time at our friend's party the next night. We went out Saturday to our favorite watering hole, where I kept my new kilt on that I had worn to the party. That certainly shined a light on the vast sinkhole of ignorance in this town. I kept hearing "omigod that guy's wearing a skirt" and even heard "maybe he's Muslim." Eh, whatever, I looked damn good. Sunday was glorious. We didn't leave the house or even get dressed, and sat around all day watching the entire Band of Brothers miniseries on our new TV.
Then came the call from Granny.
About 5 times now, Granny has called asking when we're coming for Christmas and whether we're coming to lunch. And 5 times the answer has been no, we're not coming on Christmas day, and no, we won't make it to lunch at the fucking Marriott. It's so frustrating because not only is she being her usual spoiled, impulsive, demanding self, but her deteriorating memory is also playing a part in the repeated phone calls. I think she truly can't remember what we've already told her. My wife finally told her last night that we don't like being pressured to come to Christmas lunch when we've already planned to hang around here most of the day. Granny got all pissy after that and hung up to go fume and pout because we weren't doing what the Grande Dame had commanded. I'm getting so goddamned sick of Granny's grandiose meal plans where poor Granddaddy has to get his tired self dressed and out in the cold when he'd probably rather have sandwiches at home. Plus she just doesn't understand that not everybody gets up at 6 in the goddamned morning like she does, and to get there at noon means means we'd have to be done with opening gifts, dressed, have our bags packed, and have the dog at the dogsitter's house by 10:30. We are absolutely not going to rush ourselves through Christmas morning just because Her Majesty wants everyone at the motherfucking Marriott at 12 sharp.
My dear father-in-law hasn't made it any less stressful. A couple of weeks ago, he was talking about taking us and my wife's brother on a trip somewhere nice, so we were calling and e-mailing back & forth trying to coordinate schedules. Eventually the grand plan fell apart, so he said just come over on Christmas day for hors d'oeuvres, when we already said we probably wouldn't be coming to town that day. But, that may be the only chance we get to see him before he has to jet off again to some other desolate outpost for his job, so my dream of a relaxing Christmas at home appears to be crumbling.
I am resolved to do things differently next year. I shall call for a rigid, unbending plan to stay put and not leave town all day Christmas day, if at all. Hopefully I'll have the funds to take us somewhere like a resort for a few days, avoid our families, and truly enjoy our time off.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
The way we were
When I look back at my own childhood, I feel so bad for today's children. Below are a few things I enjoyed and took for granted as a child that today's children are denied.
Cartoons and other shows with no educational value
In the good ol' 1980s, children's entertainment remained largely unmolested by meddling lawmakers. Animated programs were nearly devoid of redeeming values or educational content, and their primary purpose was to sell toys, action figures, and advertisers' unhealthy products to impressionable youngsters. I didn't learn a goddamn thing while watching Thundercats, Bugs Bunny, You Can't Do That On Television, Garfield & Friends, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and as I got older, Animaniacs, Pinky & The Brain, and Batman: The Animated Series. I was simply entertained. Now practically every child-oriented TV show has to offer some sort of educational value. God forbid a child shut off his brain for a while and just relax with some wordplay, slapstick, and mild cartoon violence!
Educational shows that didn't suck shit through a straw
The preceding paragraph should not be construed to impugn all educational programming. Sesame Street was awesome, and at the time wasn't used as a substitute parent like it is now. Ditto for Mr. Rogers and that awesome Neighborhood of Make Believe. They engaged our imaginations without pandering. The trend of insipid, mindless pablum began with Barney the Douchebag Dinosaur. I can't bear to watch more than a minute of this thanks to the actors' exaggerated facial expressions and gestures. Then along came Blues Clues, with inane singalongs and terrible pacing. Dora the No Hablo Inglés Explorer didn't make things any better and subversively sought to fulfill the liberal agenda to make children more tolerant of non-English speakers under the guise of nurturing language skills.
Refined, processed snacks
Nothing was more abundant than sweet, sweet sugar. Sugary breakfast cereals, Kool-Aid, and Chips Ahoy were daily dietary staples for most of us. I eventually got around to eating a well-rounded diet as a result of merely being offered healthy foods but not being forced to eat them. Until then, I knew the joy of stuffing my face with sugar, and I'm perfectly fine today. Parents nowadays fear that if their precious offspring nibble so much as a single M&M, they'll never eat vegetables again and get diabetes or colon cancer at age 12.
Trick-or-treat
A recent discussion with my old school chum brought this to mind. In our day, we went out at dusk in cobbled-together costumes that included no more than $10 worth of accessories purchased solely for the costume. We got together with other children and someone's parents walked around with us as we went door-to-door, street by street, getting loads of tooth-rotting goodness from our neighbors. This is a dying custom these days. Parents are so paranoid about kidnappers and kids getting run over that they ditch the door-to-door custom altogether and take the little fatasses to some lame-ass event at a mall, community center, or church parking lot, in store-bought costumes that cost anywhere from $20-50. We earned our candy with our own footwork, hoofing it from house to house, taking in the fresh air on a crisp autumn night, interacting with neighbors, including the mildly creepy elderly people, and learned to cope with disappointment when handed crappy treats like raisins, apples, or pencils.
Toy guns
My brother and I used to play "Miami Vice" with our Uzi waterguns and pistols. They were solid black and didn't have those retarded orange plugs on them, and it was fine because people weren't so paranoid that they would think an 8-year-old would be toting a real submachine gun. Nowadays most parents think if their children so much as look at a gun, real or fake, they'll grow up to be serial killers. I guess today's busy parents can't be bothered to teach their children respect for human life, or basic gun safety for that matter.
Movies where the bad guy actually got killed
The last animated Disney film I can recall where the villain actually dies, at least implicitly, is The Lion King, in which Scar gets eaten alive. Think back—in The Little Mermaid, Ursula gets stabbed with a ship's bow. Oliver & Company—Sykes gets run over by a goddamn train. Great Mouse Detective—Ratigan falls down a fuckin' clock tower. Ever since Pocohontas, the bad guy receives some sort of punishment but doesn't actually die (the fate of Shadow Man in The Princess and the Frog is ambiguous—supposedly his soul is tormented forever in the afterlife).
Bicycles
I recently saw a commercial in which a pair of little girls pedal their pink Huffy bikes over to a friend's house for a sleepover. Such an image is just a portrayal of a fond memory. Do you know any child whose parents would allow her to get on a bike and ride off down the street? No way. Parents today think their children will be whisked away into a windowless van as soon as they leave the yard. The kids my wife nannies for don't even own bikes, or know how to ride. I rode my little red bike all up and down the street all by myself, and didn't wear stupid helmets or pads, either.
The front seat
Riding up front was a rare treat! The footwell was practically cavernous compared to the back seat, and the view through that big windshield damn near went on forever. You only got to ride up front when only one adult was in the car, and even then you had to take turns with siblings or friends. Oh, but not anymore. Legislation spurred on by whiny parents has outlawed the cherished privilege entirely and made it so you basically can't ride in the front seat until you're old enough to drive the fucking car yourself.
A world without social networking
When I was a pup, we talked with our friends face-to-face or on the home telephone. We didn't spend an hour or more every day writing e-mails, seeing who was doing what on Bookface, or maintaining mindless blogs that no one would ever read (*ahem*). The lack of social networking sites also meant we were free from the horrors of schoolyard taunts and gossip as soon as we were safe at home. Not anymore. Whatever schoolchildren these days say or do that's the least bit unacceptable to the arbiters of acceptability follows them home in the form of vitriolic messages on their social network pages and spiteful gossip spread through mass text messages.
Cartoons and other shows with no educational value
In the good ol' 1980s, children's entertainment remained largely unmolested by meddling lawmakers. Animated programs were nearly devoid of redeeming values or educational content, and their primary purpose was to sell toys, action figures, and advertisers' unhealthy products to impressionable youngsters. I didn't learn a goddamn thing while watching Thundercats, Bugs Bunny, You Can't Do That On Television, Garfield & Friends, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and as I got older, Animaniacs, Pinky & The Brain, and Batman: The Animated Series. I was simply entertained. Now practically every child-oriented TV show has to offer some sort of educational value. God forbid a child shut off his brain for a while and just relax with some wordplay, slapstick, and mild cartoon violence!
Educational shows that didn't suck shit through a straw
The preceding paragraph should not be construed to impugn all educational programming. Sesame Street was awesome, and at the time wasn't used as a substitute parent like it is now. Ditto for Mr. Rogers and that awesome Neighborhood of Make Believe. They engaged our imaginations without pandering. The trend of insipid, mindless pablum began with Barney the Douchebag Dinosaur. I can't bear to watch more than a minute of this thanks to the actors' exaggerated facial expressions and gestures. Then along came Blues Clues, with inane singalongs and terrible pacing. Dora the No Hablo Inglés Explorer didn't make things any better and subversively sought to fulfill the liberal agenda to make children more tolerant of non-English speakers under the guise of nurturing language skills.
Refined, processed snacks
Nothing was more abundant than sweet, sweet sugar. Sugary breakfast cereals, Kool-Aid, and Chips Ahoy were daily dietary staples for most of us. I eventually got around to eating a well-rounded diet as a result of merely being offered healthy foods but not being forced to eat them. Until then, I knew the joy of stuffing my face with sugar, and I'm perfectly fine today. Parents nowadays fear that if their precious offspring nibble so much as a single M&M, they'll never eat vegetables again and get diabetes or colon cancer at age 12.
Trick-or-treat
A recent discussion with my old school chum brought this to mind. In our day, we went out at dusk in cobbled-together costumes that included no more than $10 worth of accessories purchased solely for the costume. We got together with other children and someone's parents walked around with us as we went door-to-door, street by street, getting loads of tooth-rotting goodness from our neighbors. This is a dying custom these days. Parents are so paranoid about kidnappers and kids getting run over that they ditch the door-to-door custom altogether and take the little fatasses to some lame-ass event at a mall, community center, or church parking lot, in store-bought costumes that cost anywhere from $20-50. We earned our candy with our own footwork, hoofing it from house to house, taking in the fresh air on a crisp autumn night, interacting with neighbors, including the mildly creepy elderly people, and learned to cope with disappointment when handed crappy treats like raisins, apples, or pencils.
Toy guns
My brother and I used to play "Miami Vice" with our Uzi waterguns and pistols. They were solid black and didn't have those retarded orange plugs on them, and it was fine because people weren't so paranoid that they would think an 8-year-old would be toting a real submachine gun. Nowadays most parents think if their children so much as look at a gun, real or fake, they'll grow up to be serial killers. I guess today's busy parents can't be bothered to teach their children respect for human life, or basic gun safety for that matter.
Movies where the bad guy actually got killed
The last animated Disney film I can recall where the villain actually dies, at least implicitly, is The Lion King, in which Scar gets eaten alive. Think back—in The Little Mermaid, Ursula gets stabbed with a ship's bow. Oliver & Company—Sykes gets run over by a goddamn train. Great Mouse Detective—Ratigan falls down a fuckin' clock tower. Ever since Pocohontas, the bad guy receives some sort of punishment but doesn't actually die (the fate of Shadow Man in The Princess and the Frog is ambiguous—supposedly his soul is tormented forever in the afterlife).
Bicycles
I recently saw a commercial in which a pair of little girls pedal their pink Huffy bikes over to a friend's house for a sleepover. Such an image is just a portrayal of a fond memory. Do you know any child whose parents would allow her to get on a bike and ride off down the street? No way. Parents today think their children will be whisked away into a windowless van as soon as they leave the yard. The kids my wife nannies for don't even own bikes, or know how to ride. I rode my little red bike all up and down the street all by myself, and didn't wear stupid helmets or pads, either.
The front seat
Riding up front was a rare treat! The footwell was practically cavernous compared to the back seat, and the view through that big windshield damn near went on forever. You only got to ride up front when only one adult was in the car, and even then you had to take turns with siblings or friends. Oh, but not anymore. Legislation spurred on by whiny parents has outlawed the cherished privilege entirely and made it so you basically can't ride in the front seat until you're old enough to drive the fucking car yourself.
A world without social networking
When I was a pup, we talked with our friends face-to-face or on the home telephone. We didn't spend an hour or more every day writing e-mails, seeing who was doing what on Bookface, or maintaining mindless blogs that no one would ever read (*ahem*). The lack of social networking sites also meant we were free from the horrors of schoolyard taunts and gossip as soon as we were safe at home. Not anymore. Whatever schoolchildren these days say or do that's the least bit unacceptable to the arbiters of acceptability follows them home in the form of vitriolic messages on their social network pages and spiteful gossip spread through mass text messages.
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