Who'de Have Thunk It?

Celebrity children that apparently slip under my sensory nets never cease to astonish me.

Enter one Scarlet Page, daughter of the mega-rock-guitarist James Patrick Page (Jimmy Page) of Led Zeppelin.

http://www.scarletpage.com

Must be nice...you look at all these photographs of all these rock stars she's taken mug shots of and think just that. I concede she's good, of course. She also obviously doesn't want her father's name associated with her own namesake, since she makes no mention of him anywhere on her website. I had to look up various other website sources to confirm she is, in fact, his offspring.

My wife is extremely jealous of her most recent photo shoot of Duran Duran. Bleh.....I'll expound on more of my wife's sick fascination with a half-assed 80s Brit band in a later blog. Duran Duran is to her what Rent is to another blogging friend of mine.

And So This Is Christmas....

Guess I'm on a roll tonight.

So this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

A very merry Christmas
And a happy new year
Let’s hope it’s a good one
Without any fear

And so this is Christmas
For weak and for strong
For rich and the poor ones
The world is so wrong
And so happy Christmas
For black and for white
For yellow and red ones
Let’s stop all the fight

A very merry Christmas
And a happy new year
Let’s hope it’s a good one
Without any fear

And so this is Christmas
And what have we done
Another year over
A new one just begun
And so happy xmas
We hope you have fun
The near and the dear ones
The old and the young

A very merry Christmas
And a happy new year
Let’s hope it’s a good one
Without any fear
War is over, if you want it
War is over now

Happy Christmas

-------------------------------------------------------------

Although he was an agnostic, John Lennon knew the meaning of Christmas, the point of it all. And it had nothing to do with the barriers of personal beliefs.

One of my greatest Christmases (for a kid who didn't understand things at the time) was actually the Christmas he was assassinated. Dad was so depressed that year and I never understood why...they never told me. It goes without saying I understand why today. I actually didn't mourn the loss of such a gifted man until young adulthood.

It pisses me off to no end when people crap on others who celebrate Christmas. What amazes me is these are the same people who badmouth nativity scenes in school plays but would sooner wring your neck if you didn't give them the day off from work.

To you, those people, I say this: you need to understand the significance of the holiday in our culture, the reasons that have nothing to do with religion. It's the one day of the year people think of others, remember whom they love and care for, and the one time of the year there is such a fulfilling day of little if any -- bad vibes.

Serenity is the word. Serenity for all.

And if you still don't like it, I say to you with a defiant smile--

--Merry Christmas.

When I Was Younger...

I remember the sight of my parents old Balsam (brand name) Christmas Tree. That thing could have filled up a small atrium. Designed to look like a Colorado Spruce.

I remember going to just my grandmother's house, there were only 5 cousins including myself back then. We'd open tons of presents from everyone else. There was no name drawing like there is now.

I remember Dad and I doing one of the few father/son rituals we enjoyed together -- shopping for Mom. Dad would always wait till the 23rd or 24th, hit a nice mall (like North Park) and make a day trip of it.

I remember being one of the lucky few not being forced to go to church after I opened my presents because my parents were non-practicing Catholics. They still are.

I remember the antsyness of Christmas Eve and the relaxed feeling of the day after.

This year, I have no tree. My Christmas present is a simple wad of cash, which will probably be put to more utilitarian use. I dread going to my parents', in-laws and grandmothers houses, respectively.

But for one calm moment, in the eye of the storm on the way home from dropping my son back off with his mother, I shared just a nice, quiet car ride with my wife. Simple things like this are always amazing.

That moment touched on all the happy memories in my life, tied with the happy satisfaction I felt as I saw my son celebrate yet another awesome Christmas (for him), making out like a bandit and enjoying his new toys.

It has been said many times, and it's a moot thing to ask of this life and this world, but I wonder why every day can't be like Christmas. Even the best of us who are good at practicing 'life is what we make it' can't make most of the days of the year feel like Christmas does.

Rather than recognize it for what it was when the tempest has long since passed and say to myself, "Oh, there were some not-so-bad moments...", I'd rather recognize it now, and acknowledge it now.

The spirit of the season finally touched me. For no particular reason, other than it could.

Merry Christmas, Everyone.

(I'll be obnoxiously negative again in my next post, I promise)

WoW Quiz

Frickin' figures I'd be a damn gnome.....and with one of the most evil combat classes to boot. Ironic that my main on Warcraft is actually a Night Elf Hunter.

Gnome Warlock Gnomes are strange little things. Fascinated with gadgets and shiny things, gnomes are often plotting and planning - but are pretty smart, despite all the explosions. You're a creepy, creepy warlock. You delight in the darker things in life - such as setting people on fire, and delight in the macabre. You'd probably fake your own death just to freak people out by getting up from the casket at your funeral. Find out your real-life WoW race and class at QuizGalaxy.com

Amidst the Darkness this Holiday Season

I find one tiny spark of beauty to spread around.

http://media.putfile.com/Christmas-Rocker

The link is perfectly work safe. You will need sound, though.

Normally I can't stand Classical meshed with rock. But this was really done well without overdoing it. And yes, I've analyzed the guy closely, he really is playing the song.

I find it....oddly uplifting.

Christmas Woes

Once again, I have been smited by my parents.

I fail to understand why they get so upset by a family reunion.

And the fact that I'm not coming to it.

I let my son go with them. I'm not a complete bastard.

Let me explain how these family reunions work, or this particular one.

1. It's held every year, usually 2 weeks prior to Christmas.
2. My grandmother's siblings and their kids and their kids' kids, and so on, and so forth, ad nauseum, show up to this thing.
3. The only people there who know each other at this point are my grandmother and her siblings, and their kids. I lost track of who is who a long time ago.
4. There are some reasonable things, like about $1,000.00 is collected for a selected needy family.
5. All that happens is: We eat, the friendlier people say hello to one another, and my immediate family (whom I see ALL the time) stick to their side of the room, talking, and the other side of the family sticks to their side of the room, talking. Only my grandmother and her brothers make the rounds to talk to the 'other' side. It is nothing more than a lame social gathering/free meal at best.
6. Most of my family are under the social/intelligence ladder, so I don't like to be associated with them in most public situations anyway. In English, they are white trash (except my parents, and my uncle, who also disassociates himself from the rest of my grandmother's kids). And I KNOW my family is viewed as inferior by the other sides of the family, so I don't like being seen with them anyway.
7. The reunions have also always been a chance for both sides to display their spawn like livestock. I'm 32 years old, I have no reason to prove anything to anyone. I show up because I feel like it, not because I want people to see how healthy/sick fat/skinny stupid/intelligent I have become in the last year.

And here's the funniest part. With the exception of maybe 2 times throughout my entire childhood through about 16 years of age, my father would NEVER show up to these things. I was taken by my grandmother. I only wanted to go because my cousins were going ... kid thing. But Dad always sat it out.

Over the last 15 years, he's become more gung-ho about it than anyone else I know, save my grandmother. Every year we go through the same stupid ritual if I don't go. He throws me off on some guilt trip. Or, he tries. I fail to understand why he becomes so offended by it.

I personally just don't care one way or the other. I let my son go with them if he says he would like to go, and if they ask me to let him go, in that order.

Oh, and on the rare occassion that my son doesn't go (like last year, I took him down to Palestine, TX to ride the Christmas Train, and we had a lot more fun), he will go apeshit ballistic.

I swear, if I make it to being an old fart, I will do my very best not to riddle people with guilt just because they don't show up to some insipid gathering. The thing is, I wouldn't dread these things so much if my father and grandmother would just STFU about them. But they've spent all this time building up such a legendary tale about me and the fact that I don't show, that if and when I DO show to these things (which is about once every 2 years) the second I set foot in the door my entire immediate family, my grandmother especially will chime in like a chorus from the pit of hell: "OHHHH look who decided to show up." And it's not an affectionate chiding. It's downright hateful. You have to imagine it said in a 1970s/80s Conway Twitty, Texas redneck accent by someone who's just itching to pull out his Colt revolver and git' that snake. /grumble

As with all things, the old phrase "I shape my own destiny" applies here, to me. But you know, one can only take being persecuted because he/she is a homebody for so long. Any other day of the year, my parents are, too. Hypocrites.

Merry Effing Christmas

I'm going to hate Christmas this year.

Allow me to elaborate first.

Every year since I can remember, Mom has always asked me what I want for Christmas. I've always had to go through this little song and dance when I give her some suggestions, due to the odd monetary relationship she has being married to my father.

My requests have never been unreasonable. I always keep them well-within what she's willing to spend. And she's very open about what she's willing to spend, because the monetary value of my gift will be given to me during the part where she asks me. It's just the kind of relationship we have.

I know Mom like a book now when it comes down to asking me. The first question that rolls into her mind is: "Is your Dad going to bitch about it if I buy that?". Why should she even care if the money comes out of her own pocket personally like it does every year? Like I said, it's an odd relationship she shares with that man. Every year since I was a child, she gets him grander and grander presents that he never asks for, and always spends more money on him. Okay, so I learned to live with that.

I'm starting to sound like a spoiled brat, but for me, this is how I was raised. It's more of a 'tradition' with my parents than fact.

Generally, I always got what I asked for. Back when I believed in Santa, they played the 'be good' card with me until Christmas Day, but other than that, little has changed. Until this year.

She starts asking me what I want. Typically, my wife and I have been getting a combined gift of money from her (we don't ask for that, she just gives it) and individual, smaller gifts. This year, she specifies that it has to be something more fun and not practical. She sounds loaded and willing to spend a bit more. I try money for me and my wife, and she shys away from that, telling me to pick something else.

So, I ask for a medium-range MP3 player, either HDD or FlashMem. I don't care which. Would work for me. She seems keen on the request, but that changed (surprise surprise) one week later. I start talking to her on the phone and was trying to tell her about the more affordable models to save her money, but then I am notified that she suddenly 'can't do that anymore'. Not right now. Not possible. I say okay, but naturally ask why. She is vague and says she can't tell me but it has something to do with the 'mood' my father's been in lately.

It is at this point in the phone conversation that my eyes roll so fucking far into the back of my head I almost can't get them out.

I poke at her, but she won't tell me. Obviously (I know that tone in her voice), he's within earshot. It's a little game she plays where she wants to tell me but won't tell me with him listening in. Many an argument she's had with him she's come all the way over at my house later to rant about him if she blows up. I listen primarily for amusement. But this time ... it's different. My wife's and my money has been tight for the last several months getting our debts back into line, so I can't afford this little expense I thought I was going to receive from Mom for Christmas. I was asked, keep that in mind. Now I'm being told "No". Naturally I want to know just what the hell my father's done to ruin things this time.

What it turned out to be made me really wish she'd grow a spine when it comes to him. He apparently was demoted up at his job and lost about 4 bucks an hour, but trust me, if I told you his salary, your jaw would drop to the floor. It's more of a long term thing, I suppose. But I've noticed it in his behavior. He's acting like a real asshole lately, and he needs to get over it. He will likely be re-promoted next year when the new position opens up for him to manage. IN the meantime, he still has a job, and he's still financially very well-off. Their standard of living won't even come close to changing.

So, he lost some salary, now he's naturally freaking out to the point of uber paranoia about money. He and my wife have that in common. *eyeroll*

The collateral damage of his attitude gone sour is my Christmas present got borked. I literally could think of nothing after Mom told me to 'decide again' (with far less enthusiasm than she did the first time she asked). I was so pissed at this point, you know what I asked for? I used to wear a green army jacket back in my youth during and after high school. I miss it. It made me look more like a bum than I already do. So I asked for another one. My psychotic ex made off with my previous one when we split up. I could buy one of those on my own with no hassle, though.

Mom's always been the one to cheer me up at Christmastime with my present, it's just something nice she does for me every year, so this is just depressing for me. I really don't like being strung along and be told to ask for something specific, be told I'm going to get it, then get let down a week later just because my asshole father wants to be a Scrooge and ruin everyone else's Christmas. My wife also was asked to make a decision about Christmas by my mother, she asked for some money to help out with tuition (books). She won't be getting it now.

But overall, it's not just the fact that my father is borking my Christmas present. It's the fact that his attitude about something so utterly trivial in the grand scope of things is pissing off everyone who cares for him. Even Mom is getting irritated with him. I don't call and talk to him much lately, and for good reason (his attitude). And I'm seriously considering denying my parents access to my son for our yearly pointless-relatives-you-never-remember family reunion this weekend as a roundabout punishment to my father for behaving like a childish ass. He'll probably get her something shitty, which will also increase the fireworks on Christmas Day, but I won't even go into detail about that.

Every year, my Christmases and birthdays with them are a big enough pain in the ass, and they treat it like some grand inconvenience, even though they still feel obligated to buy me something. I just about told my own mother to piss off this year and not to get me shit, just because I don't want to deal with the headaches anymore. Maybe I should just say that to them. Don't get me anything.

So, that's all I get this year. A green jacket. I'd almost rather have nothing.

So...when you're opening up something cool from a family member, you remember me. And what I'm getting. And yes, I picked the green jacket out of a sense of disgust because of wtf I had to endure to get to that point to begin with.

Merry Christmas!