Christmas Memories (Sigh).
Last night was our Christmas party, and Donna, as usual, outdid herself with food and drink and fun. There was a table overflowing with appetizers (jalapenos with cream cheese and bacon, bite-sized brie, eggs pickled and eggs deviled, etc.) and then a dinner overloaded with turkey and ham and all the trimmings. We all played bingo and homemade Jeopardy! (that's my main contribution other than doing random tasks along the way), with prizes and everything. We opened presents and drank too much (except me, strangely) and played Christmas music and watched old toy commercials (also my contribution, natch) and laughed and laughed. I hope and believe a swell time was had by all. Thanks to everyone who came---the guest list was largely comprised of the bloggers in my link list to the right, except Q'ner, whose name came up several times... As always, we totally forgot to break out the camera, except of course to take a few pics of the cat asleep under the tree because he's so damn cute in spite of how much I can't stand him.
I can't believe Christmas is over. Donna and I began gradually decorating and listening to Christmas LP's around the second week of November, and yet today we are lamenting the swift passing of the holidays. We're gonna have to start celebrating the day after Halloween next year to feel satiated come the new year. And I didn't even write anything here about grade school Christmas pageants at St. Pius, or early snows on Long Island, or the giddy fun of staying up all Christmas eve in pajamas with many brothers and sisters, mom and dad and a pair of beagles, ginger ale and stuffed clams, presents and carols and the yule log...
Goodbye, Christmas 2005. You had your unique joys, as did all the others I've had, which I also remember and say goodbye to this time of year.
Goodbye again, Christmas 1975, when we prefaced the evening's festivities by watching what turned out to be the last episode of "When Things Were Rotten," Mel Brooks' Robin Hood spoof, and later that night I was introduced to Hugo, Man of a Thousand Faces, the coolest present ever.
Goodbye again, Christmas 1981, when I played a rosy-cheeked toy soldier in the school play. Those pageants, with weeks of preparation and rehearsal, were instrumental in adding that sense of anticipation to the season, building until you almost couldn't stand it. Beginning Christmas 1983, the yuletide just wasn't the same, and it was years before I realized that I could attribute the peculiar difference to the loss of that ritual.
Goodbye again, Christmas 1985, the first without my father, gone exactly three weeks on a Christmas eve barely celebrated or recalled, and that was that for childhood Christmases.
Goodbye Christmas, and I'll see you again soon!
I can't believe Christmas is over. Donna and I began gradually decorating and listening to Christmas LP's around the second week of November, and yet today we are lamenting the swift passing of the holidays. We're gonna have to start celebrating the day after Halloween next year to feel satiated come the new year. And I didn't even write anything here about grade school Christmas pageants at St. Pius, or early snows on Long Island, or the giddy fun of staying up all Christmas eve in pajamas with many brothers and sisters, mom and dad and a pair of beagles, ginger ale and stuffed clams, presents and carols and the yule log...
Goodbye, Christmas 2005. You had your unique joys, as did all the others I've had, which I also remember and say goodbye to this time of year.
Goodbye again, Christmas 1975, when we prefaced the evening's festivities by watching what turned out to be the last episode of "When Things Were Rotten," Mel Brooks' Robin Hood spoof, and later that night I was introduced to Hugo, Man of a Thousand Faces, the coolest present ever.
Goodbye again, Christmas 1981, when I played a rosy-cheeked toy soldier in the school play. Those pageants, with weeks of preparation and rehearsal, were instrumental in adding that sense of anticipation to the season, building until you almost couldn't stand it. Beginning Christmas 1983, the yuletide just wasn't the same, and it was years before I realized that I could attribute the peculiar difference to the loss of that ritual.
Goodbye again, Christmas 1985, the first without my father, gone exactly three weeks on a Christmas eve barely celebrated or recalled, and that was that for childhood Christmases.
Goodbye Christmas, and I'll see you again soon!
posted by psaur at 6:55 PM
3 Comments:
Sounds like a great party! I'd have loved to have been there. Instead, I stayed in New York and went to Dave and Alisa's on Christmas Eve and Day.
Much fun was had and many drinks drunk. Dave lamented the cruel juxtaposition (love it!) of the giant, glowing, ornamented Christmas tree next to the sad Menorah and sole wall ornament that comprised "Hannukah corner." Out of guilt and perhaps respect he ignored all calls from his parents on Christmas.
It was for the best. We all got good and liquored up before dinner, and by dessert we were shooting each other in the face with one of those spring-loaded fly swatter guns. The contest was to see who didn't blink. All joined in, including a Polish woman who brought her 12-year old son along. You haven't lived until you've seen a drunk Dave pointing a fly swatter gun directly between the eyes of a 12-year old Polish boy on Christmas Day and yelling: "Don't blink!"
Another Christmas to remember. If only I could!
Liked your post, by the way. Will the anticipation we felt as children ever be matched by anything that happens in our adult lives?
Perhaps that's why people start to smoke crack. Perhaps.
Merry Christmas!
It was indeed a swell time. I ate enough baked brie to kill a Belgian (those miserable fat bastards!) and sipped pleasantly on the traditional Whisky Slushie (which seemed to make its appearance more than once this year). Did get a little tipsy a few nights before at my sister-in-law's Dessert Buffet (beer being my dessert of choice) and ended up getting a ride home with mom.
Christmas indeed has lost much of its magic these last many years, although the nephews are beginning to bring it around again for me.
Thanks to an unnecessarily extravagant gift from Psaur and The Mrs., I'll be evenly buzzed on some fine Jameson's for weeks to come!
Christmas party???!! You told me it was a Hanukkah party! You sneak!
You both are amazing! Thank you for keeping us fed and clothed! I could barely get Tom to take off his new jacket (even in the house)!
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