Holidays – Regular Guy

Adjusting New Year’s

brian — Tue, 30 Dec 2014 15:25:43 +0000

As we approach the beginning of a new year, I have started to notice the grouchy old man inside of me getting ready for an appearance. I have no problem with people celebrating on New Year’s Eve except for one thing.

Why does the New Year have to start so late?

More often than not, I stay up to midnight to watch the ball drop and all that jazz. My wife – the smarter one in this couple by a country mile – has usually already headed to bed. Or she’s asleep in her recliner as I watch the TV quietly a few feet away on the couch.

Either way, she doesn’t give in to the peer pressure that society puts on people to actually stay awake until we can turn the page from December to January.

Sometimes I understand her position and hit the hay early, but more often than not I stay up simply because that’s what I think I should do. I have no reason why since it’s not like anyone will really hold it against me.

We have never really found an event to attend that fits into our schedule. We used to visit friends in Maryland, but had to stay the night so we could properly have fun, and that just made entry into January more difficult than we wanted.

Ideally, we would attend a fun and safe celebration that lets us sleep in our own bed, but we just end up staying home to celebrate together. That makes an early bedtime an ever-present temptation.

After all, the clock strikes midnight more than once. Celebrating 2015 at 7 p.m when much of Europe sets off their fireworks is a little early. We could align with some islands west of the European coast and celebrate at 8 p.m., but I think I’ll still be awake.

The Sandwich Islands – British territories off of Argentina – will welcome 2015 when our clocks strike nine, but they don’t seem significant enough. I think I might make it until 10 p.m. and bring in the New Year with the good folks of Greenland.

I wouldn’t miss anything interesting if I did that and went to bed at a normal hour. I have spent enough years flipping channels from 10 p.m. to midnight to know that the folks who program television networks either want us drunk or asleep that night so they can show the worst shows known to man.

The only time I can really remember finding something entertaining to watch on New Year’s Eve was when a channel showed a bunch of episodes of “Friends” that focused on the holiday. But I distinctly remember all these shows starting after midnight, which meant I stupidly stayed up even later than normal to watch a bunch of episodes I had seen a bunch of times before.

Maybe I just need to embrace that. After all, I stay up too late watching TV on random occasions throughout the year. That’s kind of who I am. And maybe that’s a tradition in Greenland too.

Embrace the Giving

brian — Tue, 23 Dec 2014 15:25:20 +0000

Something is happening this Christmas season that makes me sad. I don’t know how wide this phenomenon has spread, but I’m worried.

More and more I hear about people opting to not give Christmas presents.

Like any good and right American, I love the speech Linus gives in “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” I also worry about the overcreep of commercialism. But does that mean we need to quit such a great tradition whole hog?

Some of you may read this and think of me as a greedy little mongrel, begging for another gift card or some trinket I will forget about before 2015 starts. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

I don’t like people talking about not giving Christmas presents because then I can’t experience the joy of getting something for someone else.

As I have grown up, I have learned how to get more pleasure from giving than from receiving. I know I have enough and can go through the holiday season without getting any gifts, but I can’t imagine spending all the weeks leading up to Christmas without hunting to find that right gift.

Now sometimes people have legitimate concerns about gift-giving and would prefer a donation to a charity or a gift for someone less fortunate.

I can totally get behind that. I mean, it might not give me the same thrill as looking through stores and wrapping the gift so I can see the look on the face of someone I care about when they see what I got, but a gift is a gift.

My problem comes when I hear people say that we shouldn’t exchange gifts because the whole process if too hard or too stressful. To be honest, that kind of perspective just bums me out.

I know that the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas can fill up quickly. Like a lot of other people, I have to go to holiday concerts and Christmas parties along with my regular day-to-day responsibilities.

The idea of heading into a crowded store doesn’t always get me excited. And I loathe the idea of rushing to get all my shopping done before we all sit down for turkey and stuffing.

But the notion that I have to put my generosity on hold because it might be inconvenient feels a whole lot worse. Maybe I want to go through a lot of trouble to get the special people in my life a gift. Maybe the hassle makes it even more gratifying.

I think we should just stop talking about presents. No more price limits, no more lists, no more ground rules. If you want to get something for someone, go ahead and do it. If someone gets you a present, thank them sincerely. If you buy a gift for someone, and they don’t reciprocate, let it go. If someone gives you something, and you have no gift in return, consider doing something nice for them.

But most of all, stop worrying about who gives what and what you get. Just do nice things for the people you care about. Because, in the end, isn’t that what Linus was getting at?

Wearing a New Hat

brian — Tue, 07 Jan 2014 16:00:42 +0000

I got really worried for a few moments. One of my sisters-in-law wanted to present me with a special gift in front of everyone at our family’s Christmas Eve celebration.

I had no reason to distrust her. It’s the ones I am related to by blood that I didn’t trust.

As the youngest, this feeling comes natural. One Christmas, my brothers wanted to show me that Santa thought I hadn’t measured up to his standards by putting baked beans and dirty underwear in my stocking.

My parents thankfully stepped in and, always appreciating a good joke, put the items in one of my older brothers’ stockings. I was probably 4 or 5 at the time so they could have scarred me for life.

So I came by this nervousness honestly. You can put me on stage in front of a bunch of strangers, and I have no problem making a fool out of myself. But put that into play in front of my family, and I get a little worried.

She started off with a little speech, telling everyone how she and my brother get a kick out of my regular updates about life in a small town like Hanover. Most of my siblings live in larger communities and don’t get to enjoy the amount of civic interaction that we do.

I stood there waiting for the other shoe to drop as she said nice things about me. If she liked the way I had decided to live my life, how could this be turned into a cruel prank? What did these people have up their sleeve?

When I opened the bag, I could not believe my good fortune. They had somehow come up with the perfect way to recognize me for getting involved in groups like the Knights of Columbus, the Girl Scouts and the Lions Club.

We watched a lot of television as kids. I think the constant viewings of programs like TheThree Stooges, the Dick Van Dyke Show and M*A*S*H have played a big role in my ability to make people laugh.

One of our favorite selections was The Flintstones. That doesn’t make us unique – who doesn’t love the most famous residents of Bedrock? Whenever a wedding anniversary happens, you can pretty much guarantee at least one member of my family will post a picture of 88 Fingers Louie and the fellas singing their famous song.

That’s why I could not believe my eyes when I pulled the blue Loyal Order of Water Buffaloes Lodge No. 26 hat from the gift bag. They didn’t want to make fun of me (OK, maybe they did a little because the hat is absurd in the most awesome way possible). They wanted to recognize me for having the qualities of the Grand Poobah.

I could not think of a higher honor. Plus, my teenage daughter gets horrifically embarrassed just at the mention of the hat.

Part of me wants to wear it proudly everywhere, but a bigger part of me knows that she would feel the same way I did standing in front of that room. A true Grand Poobah would never abuse his power like that.

Shelf the Elf

brian — Sun, 22 Dec 2013 14:44:43 +0000

One of the guiding principles for writers is the “rule of three.” Basically, using three examples for something tends to work better, especially in comedy. But as Mike, my oldest nephew, recently pointed out, the theory also applies to parenting.

You see, Mike has three kids with a fourth one on the way. He and his wife both work. In short, they have enough on their hands as it is. He figured the rule of three worked in his favor – he only had to worry about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy with his kids.

But some parents just can’t leave well enough alone. Some parents need to up the ante for their kids, thereby potentially putting pressure on other parents to follow suit. Some parents love the Elf on the Shelf.

Since my stance on this particular new tradition has already generated some heat privately, let me just say that I do love Christmas and really don’t care what other parents do. I just agree with Mike that the Elf can violate the sacred agreement between parents that we stick to the fat man at Christmas, the chocolate-loving bunny and the sprite with a dental fetish.

The elf might seem like a goofy little tradition that makes the holiday season a little more fun in your house. I don’t doubt that. But think of the 5-year-old who comes home from Christmas wondering why the magical being who visits his friends doesn’t come to his house.

This is a whole lot different than “Why can’t I get the bike that Sally has?” because 5-year-olds think of magical elves and bikes as one and the same. The things that someone else has simply exist as temptations regardless of what they are.

It’s kind of hard to tell your child that the magical elf assigned to your house just really has a busy December because end-of-the-year reports are due and someone has to carpool everyone around town, so there’s just not enough time to move from place to place in the house, all with increasingly humorous situations because what good is a holiday tradition if you can’t share it on Facebook?

The elf – which is actually based on a holiday tradition from the family which wrote the 2005 book introducing the craze – already has complicated rules in place. Children cannot touch the elf. The elf only moves when children are asleep. The elf magically leaves on Christmas Eve.

So to keep the sanctity of the rule of three, let’s add another rule: you can’t tell anyone outside the family about the elf. That way, parents can have their fun little game, kids might be scared into thinking a slip of the lip can ruin everything, and parents who don’t use the elf can blame an older sibling’s big mouth on why the Elf on the Shelf doesn’t come to their house.

Things already get complicated enough around the holidays with a million Santas running around. We don’t need rogue elves making life more difficult for parents.

How I Pulled One Over on Lands End

brian — Fri, 20 Dec 2013 16:24:55 +0000

Well, not really, but I made out nicely. Some of the details will be scarce since it involves Christmas gifts for my wife, but the gist will be clear.

I went online the other day to order some things my wife had expressed an interest in. After I added them to the shopping cart, I poked around the site a little to see if I could find any other goodies to put under the tree. She really likes Lands End clothing so it was worth a shot.

Something caught my eye and, while she may have ended up returning it, I figured it was worth a shot because of the good price so I added it to my cart. Then I decided to check out.

While going through that process, I noticed the total of my order – $49.98. Lands End has a habit of kicking in discounts and special deals at the $50 level. This time it involved free shipping. I had a moment of pause.

The regular shipping would get the items to me by Christmas. That cost $8. If I wanted to realistically add something to my cart to get over $50, I would probably spend at least $8 so chasing the free shipping made absolutely no sense. I just had to suck it up and place the order.

As I looked at the e-mail confirmation, I noticed an e-mail address for any feedback on the transaction. So I sent them a quick note telling them I am a loyal customer and wondered if I could get the free shipping since I came so close to the $50 target.

They got back to me within a few hours with a fairly canned response (note to retailers who do this sort of thing – make sure the font style and size of the message that the customer service people paste into the e-mail matches the rest of what they type) that pretty much shot down my idea of cutting me a break. But I figured it was worth one more shot.

I sent a very simple message: “So no love for being two cents off?”

Just a little over two hours yet, I got the message I wanted to see. They had decided to manually override the shipping charge because I came so close to $50. I really appreciated it since this kind of service really breeds customer loyalty.

But that isn’t really how I pulled one over on them. I mentioned that the item I went out on a limb to purchase came at a good price, right? In fact, the color I wanted was no longer available in the size I needed because it was on sale. I liked the color I picked, but knew that this was an item either in demand or at the end of its life.

The shipping notice came just a little while ago. That item was no longer available, and that part of my order had been cancelled. But I still got the free shipping even though my order was less than half of $50.

I never would have been close to the $50 threshold without the cancelled item so I ended up catching a huge break. Remember, it never hurts to nicely ask these companies for some special service. Sometimes, it works out more in your favor than you could ever imagine.

Hidden Presents

brian — Wed, 09 Jan 2013 13:13:24 +0000

On Christmas morning, I tried to keep everything as normal as possible.

We get up, open presents and enjoy our annual treat of mini powdered donuts. But, at some point, I may have wanted to sneak off to each room in the house to see if I missed a special present.

My wife would never keep a present from me. But, as she knows all too well, I carry many scars from my younger days. One Christmas, my family tried to hide an awesome present from me.

They actually didn’t try and hide it. I just like to make things more dramatic than they seem sometimes. But I did go a large portion of Christmas Day one year without knowing that Santa had brought all of us a new air hockey table. I’m sure someone told me that Santa had a pretty nice surprise, but I prefer to think they hid the thing from me.

I must have been 10 or so because I remember that most, if not all, my siblings were there that morning. The lower floor of our house was clearly split into the part with carpet and the part with a tile floor. That year, my pile of presents sat pretty far away from the door to the tile part of our basement.

Unknown to me, my brothers spent a good part of that Christmas morning in the tiled area playing air hockey. Well, I’m sure they did. I don’t really know because I never really heard the game from where I sat.

I had plenty of other things to occupy me that day, but those seemed completely inconsequential once I found out we had an air hockey table in the back room. At some point, I looked up and asked where everyone was. Someone told me they were all playing air hockey. This totally changed the day.

True to form, however, I remember a lot more about sitting in the family room wondering where everyone was than I do about playing air hockey later in the day. Sometimes, I hate that I focus on that part of the experience.

Even though I try and turn the air hockey table story into some tale of woe, I know that it represented a big part of why I love Christmas. That marked the first of many days we spent playing the game. I have had pretty good fortune in my life so if missing out on a few hours of air hockey represents a tragedy – a wholly manufactured tragedy – than I can’t really complain.

I have no expectations of an air hockey table turning up at our house or anywhere else I go this holiday season, but I still have this compulsion to go check other parts of the party to see if one present escaped my view. I learned my lesson on that pretty awesome Christmas when we all got a new game to play.

After all, it beats the time I got sick all over my presents one Christmas morning. I believe Matchbox City took the brunt of it. Or maybe it was Matchbox Country.

Either way, that’s a Christmas memory I don’t think I can turn into a positive.

Christmas Morning

brian — Sun, 25 Dec 2011 15:34:40 +0000

The Snuggie Predicament

brian — Wed, 05 Jan 2011 18:06:16 +0000

The way people react to change fascinates me. As a society, we have so many new things at our disposal, but sometimes we simply retreat into a stubborn position and wish everything would just always stay the same.

That’s a tempting proposition, but not always the best course of action. Change can open our eyes to wonderful new things and make our lives much richer in the long run.

I thought of all this as I peeled the wrapping paper off a couple of my presents Christmas morning. Since I don’t like to turn my gift wish list into a ransom note, I don’t ask for many things, preferring to let the people who buy me presents rely on their imagination and understanding of my personality.

This generally works out. I understand why the list makers do what they do – I generally get pretty detailed instructions from my wife to avoid any mishaps – but I don’t want to play their game.

I want to be surprised. If the gift is not what I want, I can either just deal with it or find a way to exchange it for something more aligned with my tastes. I have much more fun buying special gifts than receiving something I specifically asked for, but that’s just me.

As I picked up one box and they both looked at me with great anticipation, I could tell my theories on gift giving would soon undergo a very strong test. I tore into the paper, a little bit excited and a little bit worried.

I had no reason to worry. I knew that within a few seconds when I saw the familiar picture on the outside of the box. We watched too much television.

I got a Snuggie.

At no point did I ever ask for a Snuggie. I may have joked about how awesome I found the item. I showed incredible glee when I gave one as a joke gift to someone who desperately did not want a Snuggie. But I never asked for a Snuggie.

When I relax in front of the TV, I like to wear layers. Sometimes I grab one of the blankets we have in the living room. When I retire to the man cave in the basement, I have a space heater to keep me warm.

This gift changes the whole equation. Do I keep it downstairs for those particularly cold nights when I want to watch a game? The Snuggie has pockets for me to keep snacks, but I like to walk around sometimes, a task not really conducive to this item of clothing.

I could save it for when I chill on the couch with the family, but I don’t know if keeping a royal blue Snuggie will go over well with the decorating committee of the house. If I put it away somewhere, I will undoubtedly be too lazy to go get it when I need it.

I don’t know if I can deal with all these decisions. And don’t even get me started on my new slippers. I don’t usually wear slippers. Where do I keep these things so I get good use out of them? This is why change vexes me at times.

My Wish for 2011

brian — Sat, 01 Jan 2011 17:25:52 +0000

The new year came in quietly in our house as I tried to explain to my daughter what a stroke is so she might understand why Dick Clark was on TV talking that way. I don’t know why I chose that channel for the countdown. She had tuned into “F?ED: THE MOVIE” on Nickelodeon while I was in the other room so I blame the 30 minutes of that for my bad judgment.

She hit the hay mere seconds after midnight. My wife had crashed 45 minutes earlier. Left to my own devices, I headed downstairs to watch some TV before falling asleep. As I scanned the listings, I saw a Marx Brothers movie marathon listed, which meant bedtime would have to wait.

I watched “Duck Soup” and fell asleep after a few minutes of “A Night at the Opera.” When I woke up, I caught part of a soccer match, then settled in for a few hours of a Three Stooges marathon.

The movie channels schedule this kind of programming on New Year’s Day for a reason. We have all dealt with a lot of running around due to the holiday season and need something simple and funny as we prepare to get back to work and the rest of our real lives. But why limit that kind of entertainment to the first day of the year.

We have people running around claiming the end of the world is coming simply because they don’t like the opposing political party. We have television hosts urging viewers to start canning food for impending civil unrest. Oprah is “retiring” in order to run her own television network so she can tell people all day why they need to be like her.

We need Groucho, Moe, Harpo, Larry, Chico and Curly every single day more than ever. My wish for 2011 is that people stop taking everything so seriously and remember the wonderful gifts of simplicity and laughter.

Happy New Year!

brian — Fri, 31 Dec 2010 18:45:19 +0000

I don’t have too many wild New Year’s Eve stories. My wife tends to enjoy smaller, more quiet celebrations. Since we have been together since 1992, that covers a good chunk of time. We have had some fun times, but nothing too crazy.

Before that, I worked a lot on New Year’s Eve at Harborplace. I didn’t drink in high school and looked forward to making money on NYE instead of boozing it up in college. I had enough insane nights the rest of the year.

One year in that gap between college and meeting my wife, I had a really good time at the Power Plant in downtown Baltimore. Some of my sisters were going down with their husbands (one was only engaged at that point) and some friends. I had a friend bail out on me at the last minute, so they took me down and my sister talked the guy working the door into letting me in.

Even though I was the only one without a date, I had a blast. There was a lot to drink, live music and just all-around good people watching. Since then, however, the wildest New Year’s Eve we have had included poker, board games and home-brewed beer at a friend’s house.

That couple is away for the holidays so we won’t be headed to their soiree this time around. Instead, we’ll do what we did last year – watch a movie, catch some TV and ring in 2011 as a family. Hope you all have a safe and happy celebration, however crazy or tame it may be.