Whether you’re Jewish, Christian, Atheist, or some other weird cult it doesn’t matter…Everyone Loves Christmas. I don’t believe in the virgin birth and I don’t in Santa, but seriously, how much fun is it to drink to excess with family and friends and get presents? I find it awesome, and quite often this special time of year has delivered some of my most precious memories. I wish I was Marilu Henner and could remember every single Christmas memory, but I’m a 31 year old former pothead that has trouble remembering my girlfriend’s breakfast order, never mind what the hell it was I got for Jesus’ birthday when I was 12. However, I’m going to try and run through my favorite Christmas memories in somewhat of a chronological order.
My earliest memory that I can bring back without the help of photographs is when I got my first bike. It was a gold and black BMX bike and I was certain that I was going to be able to do some kick ass tricks. However, launching off a dirt ramp is difficult when you’re chubby and have zero skills, skills that would eventually place me ass-first into a fire ant hill. I think I was in the 1st grade.
My family went to Disney World one year for Christmas, and while I was young and I am certain that I had fun, the only memory that remains is of how awful it was. Mainly because I was fat, wearing MC Hammer pants, and being forced to speed walk through a crowded theme park to ensure we “got our money’s worth” and chapped thighs. I was also forced to go on Space Mountain. While my Dad didn’t come out and directly call me a “Sissy,” he did point out the fact that the little girl in front of us carrying a teddy bear wasn’t scared to ride Space Mountain. So, I stupidly trusted my father and literally went along for the ride. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but I’m pretty sure I was having my first panic attack as the log flume-like capsule pushed us into the void. The point of the story is that I screamed so loud that I burst a blood vessel in my eye, and that little girl lost her teddy bear. I think was in the 4th grade for this joyous occasion.
I got my first guitar one year for Christmas. I was in the throes of a Nirvana addiction and I wanted to be Kurt Cobain so badly. Picture me as a fat 13-year old kid with long hair, baggy clothes, and an acoustic guitar trying to play “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” Yes, it is the saddest thing you can think of. At least I had hair.
One year my dad got drunk and fell into our Christmas tree while trying to unplug the lights. There was a huge ass-shaped hole in the tree and we had to turn it to face the corner. Mom was pissed.
Every year on Christmas my Dad calls his entire family and greets them with a loud, “Good Morning Christmas Gift!” My sisters and I continuously mock him for this.
One year we spent Christmas at the time-share beach condo we use to have. My mom had to work later than my dad did, so she joined us later in the week. It was a fairly normal Christmas, until we learned that while mom did indeed have to work late…she also used that time to give away our family dog, Molly.
My grandmother lives in Williamston, SC and for a long time we’d always go down to her house on Christmas Eve for dinner. Our friend Lee’s family owns a funeral home, and he would come by in one of their limos and take us to look at Christmas Lights in the part of town known as “The Dirty 30,” which is a mill village. It’s so fun to go ride through poor people’s neighborhoods and question how and why they decorate their homes. There was actually a lady that would wear a rubber suit, wrap her self in lights and give out candy. Indeed, Happy Birthday Jesus! The Reason for the Season and also the reason the light bill is through the roof.
All right, that’s it. I’ve had 30 Christmas’ and those are the memories that stand out. They’re pretty good memories and I can look back and say that they were filled with love and laughter for the most part. I hope this year will be even better, because Lindsay and I will share our first Christmas together. I hope everyone has a great holiday no matter what wacky thing you celebrate or believe in. It’s all about family and good food and strong booze. Merry Christmas folks.