As we near the end of the holiday stories I’d like to go all the way back to the first ever Be The Boy holiday story. This story takes place during Christmas 2002 and it appeared here a year later, shortly after I started this blog. I like this story for many reasons, including the fact that my life today bears little resemblance to the way it looked in 2002, except for the choice of gifts which I still feel are acceptable.
Yes Vagina there is a Santa Claus
Let’s face facts, I’m not a good holiday shopper. This is mainly due to three reasons:
2-Don’t like crowds
3-I’m just never able to get into any kind of holiday spirit
These things coupled with my general tendency to stay in the house means that holiday time is a low key affair for me. Each year however I am briefly seized for a few hours by holiday spirit and it grabs me by the collar, slaps me across the face and says. “Come on boy, get moving before it’s too late” and I do what I’m told because a spirit that slaps you can be trouble.
Last year I was avoiding the holidays, the Christmas decorations stayed in boxes, the menorah went unlit, and my Kwanzaa pants went unworn. December passing without a problem I was finally beating the holidays. On Christmas Eve, I decided to flex my anti holiday muscles in a display of defiance to the season. Late in the evening I headed south on the quiet freeway and took continued until I was at the Harrah’s casino in just outside of San Diego in Rincon. Despite what Frank Capra would have us believe the true meaning of Christmas may be the joy of playing blackjack until the sun comes up on Christmas morning. Needless to say in the wee small hours of Christmas morning there’s nothing but the hardcore players at the tables and we celebrated the season by maintaining a nice tight table for a while. We were all up or close to it, time passed unnoticed and the cards kept coming.
5:30 Christmas morning and I’m out of smokes, and the table has lost it’s magic. I wish the two guys left a happy holiday and cash out, I’m up some cash after expenses, I had a good time, it’s a good trip and if I can sleep through the day I beat the holidays.
By 8am I’m back in Hollywood ready for bed. By the time I awake at 3pm I’ve slept through the morning, the phone calls and the cheer, it’s time for a meal. While sitting over the traditional 5pm Christmas omelet at a diner I spot an older gentleman sitting by himself and wonder if that’s my personal ghost of Christmas future. Years from now will I be alone and tired in at the end of a counter picking at the turkey special on Christmas afternoon? Was I choosing a path destined to end in loneliness? Was I already too late? I want to ask him how he is but he leaves before I have the chance.
After finishing my food and coffee I pay and get to my car. It’s not even 6PM and there’s six hours of Christmas left, still time to buy a gift still time to share the warmth of the season. This is easier said than done because at 6pm on Christmas day I have three choices for shopping, gas stations, 7-11, and XXX video stores. Needless to say I chose option three and bought all that my heart and wallet would allow. Sure I was poorer in cash but seeing the look on their faces when certain loved ones opened their gifts made it all worthwhile.