I’m afraid I must admit that I hate Christmas Time. If it isn’t the blatant over-commercialization of a holiday stolen by the religious dominionists, then it’s the near-mandatory trip to visit my siblings (two married sisters, one unmarried brother). Don’t get me wrong, I love my sisters dearly, my two brothers-in-law (both very good men, I sleep very soundly knowing that both sisters are with good men), niece and nephews, and I have a blast hanging with my brother.
So what’s wrong? Well, for one thing I absolutely hate it when they make a fuss just because I’m around. Granted, I’m in the area (SoCal) only about 10 days to 2 weeks each year, so my visits tend be a major occasion, eclipsed only by “Grand Pa Fred” coming to visit. Of course, I make a big deal of it when Grand Pa Fred (aka “Dad”) comes to visit in NorCal. I’m a hypocrite, I admit it.
So why am I writing this particular blog entry? Yesterday, my brother took two of our nephews and me to the mountains for snowboarding (they did the snowboarding, I avoided an ACL injury by bringing my camera and firing a number of shots). When we got back to my brother’s place, he ran off because a lady friend of his laid a guilt trip on him, so went off to go see her. Somehow, when he left I knew he’d either wouldn’t come back last night OR he wouldn’t be alone when he did return. If I could have emailed an online bookie, I would have won some money.
Currently, as I hand-wrote this, I’m in a Denny’s restaurant eating breakfast, having walked off because I was hungry, a bit bored, and a little irritated. I did take in a healthy walk of close to half-an-hour to get here – in a stiff Santa Ana-like wind. Also, I guess there was more than a little bit of irritation in my actions. I don’t know what happened after they went to bed – closing the door, I add being more than a bit mischievous. But deep down, I don’t think she’d have agreed to come back to his place if she knew Big Brother was there – I like to think I wouldn’t have done that to my brother (or any lady I might leave my brother at home to go see late at night) if the situation was reversed. So, in the morning, I got up, showered and walked off (leaving a note that meant to say “No worries, Bro”).
In the end, I certainly don’t want to cramp my brother’s style. Walking off on my own being me indulging my sin – Pride. All I know is that it’d be a lot easier if I had driven instead of flown. Let me exercise my own personal wanderlust.
