| Straight
from the holler.
by "Buck" December 22, 2005 Well the big day is about to arrive and I already know what I'm getting. It's just about the worst kept secret ever. I point to something in a Sears sales paper—and less than 8-hours later there's a huge wrapped box in the living room. Not that I mind. It's what I wanted and whether it's a surprise or not really isn't the issue. However, so as not to spoil the "surprise", I'm not telling what I THINK it is until it's official. You know, Christmas protocol and all…wouldn't want to violate that.
Plus, there's a history of such mistakes in my family. My father-in-law can be a cantankerous fellow when he wants to be. The story of the "Snowblower Christmas" is one of those that live in lore and legend around our home. It's one that is repeatedly referenced as the benchmark for Christmas Hell. Naturally, I wasn't around for it—but I've heard and referenced the story so many times, I feel like I lived it.
The man wanted an air compressor like most of us want well..air. Screw the sugarplums, visions of impact wrench's swirled in his head for weeks. Fueling this eager anticipation was a huge, wrapped box under the tree. My wife, who at the time was about 10 years old, took some of her own money and pooled with her mother to buy the gift. The old man was convinced it was an air compressor. He'd fondle the box and probably spend quiet moments with it at night, knowing that just beneath that thin layer of holly adorned paper lay his most innermost desire. All of this anticipation made it all the better for my future mother-in-law and wife…since they were well aware it wasn't an air compressor in that box, but a brand new SNOWBLOWER. Well, Christmas morning arrived and the old man finally got the chance to tear into the box. With all of the buildup, I'm amazed there was no video and still photography of this moment to capture the look of surprise on his face. However, in retrospect—that was probably a good thing. When he saw this was NOT an air compressor—but rather a snowblower he literally freaked out. My wife says the man went stark fucking crazy. He screamed and cussed—possibly letting out a few tears. He kicked boxes and paper all over the living room, raised holy eternal hell like a four year old with damn near 5 hour tantrum. It was such an ugly incident that nobody really wanted to open any more gifts and Christmas was pretty much cancelled at their house. Finally, his uncle came over—as all of my wife's family does on Christmas Day and saw what was happening. They went behind the coal house for a "discussion." Keep in mind—the man is about 40-years old, but that "chat" with Uncle Arthur apparently ended the ordeal. However, the story of the Snowblower Christmas is still told, retold, and often stretched. It's now laughed about—but it was no laughing matter at the time. My wife says it literally ruined Christmas.
A coworker here at the office just dropped off her Christmas gift to me. I really appreciate it when folks I work with take their time and hard earned money to do that. I also feel like a letch because I don't. I can't afford to buy something for everybody—therefore, I just don't spread my limited wealth around the office. It's purely a financial issue. However, she apparently knows me well. A gallon bag of Christmas cookies and two cans of my brand of snuff. Life is truly good.
Speaking of that, I got my annual Christmas card from the U.S. Smokeless Tobacco company this week. Is that an indication I may have a habit—when the freakin' company sends me a Christmas card?
A proud graduate of Temple University flamed me on the message board the other day for my flippant remarks about the abysmal record of her Alma Mater's football team. She used the tired defense that, "We're more concerned about a proper education than a foolish game on the field." Whatever. First off, I was kidding—but my statements were rooted in fact. I mean there's no denying that the Eagles and the Owls SUCK this year. But beyond that—I'm one who too believes academics come before sports. I have a college degree and while I'm no genius who'll come up with a new theory of relativity, I am educated and reasonably intelligent. I'm able to figure shit out on my own and able to analyze subject matter without assistance and come to my own conclusions. It's also common for me to opt NOT to exercise such principals for dramatic effect. I mean really—whoever heard of a redneck that was also smart. There are plenty of us out there—we just don't fit the template. You however my dear fit the true bill of what my grandfather referred to as an educated fool and my father referred to as educated beyond your intelligence. Be careful on that high horse you're riding—it's a long way to the ground.
Finally, I'd like to wish all of you a Merry Christmas. Yeah—I said Merry Christmas. Deal with it. Where I grew up we had both kinds of religion—Methodist and Baptist. I never met somebody who was Jewish until I was in college and really had no clue about what they believed. To a large extent I still don't—but I'm not going to go Snowblower Christmas on your ass if you wish me Happy Hanukah. I also never heard of Kwanzaa until about 5-years ago…it's cool if you want to have a happy one of those too—or wish me one. I learned when I was 25 years old we had a Catholic Church in our hometown. It was the Sacred Heart Center across the street from the hospital. I always assumed it was the hospital's cardiac care center. However, Christmas is the season I choose to celebrate so Merry Christmas everybody.
Buck Out |
