It's been a while

When I went on vacation, I thought I’d have time to write on here, but I never really got around to it (except the Christmas eve post which has gotten rave reviews, especially from those involved.) I could’ve written about how excited my mom was to get Guitar Hero for Christmas, but I was too busy playing it with her. I could have written about going to a Saints game in Chicago, but my fingers were too numb to type. I could’ve written about New Years Eve and catching snow flakes on my tongue and washing them down with the cheapest champaign you can buy. Instead, I was busy living those moments with the vigor they deserved, and recovering as best I could from the longer nights. Now though, for your sake and for posterity, I will try to at least paint the broad strokes of the last two weeks. (Editor's Note: As it turns out, just the few days after Christmas provided me with enough to write about for over an hour, so I'm going to have to break this up. Enjoy!)

Christmas was great although, as I mentioned, the present opening ceremonies was a brief affair, with my parents reaping most of the booty (although, apropos of booty, I got a pair of boxers that say “toot, toot” on the back, which I am presently wearing. It’s worth mentioning that I’ve always been anti-novelty underwear, or at least since someone hung a pair of “Fart Wars: The Silent Menace” briefs in my living room a while back, but when you need clean underwear, you need clean underwear.) My gifts to my mom were James Taylor’s new live CD/DVD, and my old Playstation 2, on which she could play her present from my dad, Guitar Hero III: Legends of Rock (I like to say it like: Legends of Raaawwwk!) A few days ago, she sent me a text message (in a lot of ways, my mom is 12 years old) saying she had finally completed Heart’s Barracuda. In between gourmet breakfasts and dinners (and gourmet leftover lunches) I managed to prove that I am nowhere near as good as some of my friends (allegedly) are at Guitar Hero, but way better than my mom (who deserves a lot of credit for trying.)

For over a year, I’ve been ribbing my brother about when he was going to get engaged to his 5(+) year girlfriend, who in case she is reading this is more than a delight and the world’s best sister-in-law-to-be. Over thanksgiving, he asked my mom if she had any “heirloomish” (direct quote) diamond rings in her safe deposit box. She retrieved my great-(great-?)Grandmother’s engagement ring for him to propose with and let me just say that great-(great-?)Grandpa did not screw around. At dinner the night before his departure, my brother was goaded into telling about a dream he had the previous night in which he had left but forgotten the ring. Which is all kind of an obvious set-up to the story about how he forgot the ring, but due to early-airport-arrival, my mom was able to speed the 30 miles back to the house from the airport, retrieve the ring, speed back to the airport, hand the ring off to my dad, who ran it inside and met me at the stairs, which I ran up and handed the ring off to my brother who already had his shoes off and laptop out in the security check area, and ran to the gate with his shoes off and laptop out as the agent was closing the door. At least that’s the way the way it would’ve happened if his plane hadn’t been an hour late to depart. Either way it was hilarious. And I made five bucks off my dad.

After the airport my dad, my uncle and I went to Al’s French Fries. (If you’ve never been to Al’s, then I feel sorry for you. I was home a week and went twice, and it’s 30 miles from my parent’s house.) Al’s is like McD’s or BK except there’s only one of them and the food is way better, especially the fries, obviously. Waiting in line at Al’s we were joined in line by a guy that my dad introduced to my uncle as my hometown’s premier song and dance man, to which he replied “Your father is so fulla… fulla… beans.” When asked what he was doing in the “big city” he replied that (on Dec. 27^th) he “figured he should probably finish [his] Christmas shopping.” There are two things you need to know about this particular gentleman, 1.) he directed and co-starred in the first musical I was in, and directed the third (and last) one I was in, in which I co-starred, and 2.) Despite his theatric and musical (he's an excellent banjo and fiddle player) proclivities he is a farmer and will forever smell like cow shit.