Two Christmases

Remember what happened last night? Good. Now tell the world.

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Dear Booze
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Two Christmases

Post by Dear Booze »

Aunt Tommie

I remember hating Christmas as a child. Well, not so much Christmas, but some of the things associated with it. For example, my sister and I both dreaded decorating the Christmas tree and adorning the house with holiday ornaments, trimmings and other cheerful filigree. I remember feeling like it was a pain-in-the-ass because we just weren’t able to be kids.

You see, my mother and father were perfectionists. They would supervise the hanging of every star, snowflake, colorful glass ball and every single strand of tinsel. I guess they wanted the whole place to look like some god-damned Hallmark card instead of a house where two little kids lived.

So by about the age of five or six, I decided that it less of a fun tradition and more of a miserable fucking chore. It was around this time that I figured out what my Aunt Tommie was all about.

Aunt Tommie was actually my father’s aunt. She was his mother’s sister and was always one our favorite people in the world. She was fun and exciting and told great stories.

I remember clearly that we were at church for some sort of Christmas program and she showed up stinking of [what I later figured out was] Gin. Even at that age, I recognized that she was a little too loud and a little to animated for church.

She asked me and my sister about our Christmas wishes and our holiday plans and if we had decorated our tree. We explained to her that we had chosen not to decorate the tree and told her exactly why. With this, she became even more animated and loud and incredulous about the fact that we had given up on the whole Christmas tree decorating tradition. A tradition, in her words, that “every kid needs to be able to enjoy… After all, it’s not about the parents. It’s about the kids.” As she continued, her voice became louder and other members of the congregation started turning to see who was being so loud. “This will not do and I will not have it,” she continued, “I’m leaving right now and I’m going to get you two sweeties your own Christmas tree that you can decorate any way you want!” With that, she was gone.

My sister and I were excited and made all sorts of plans. We discussed whether the new tree should be set up in her room or mine or in the hall between our rooms. We decided what types of decorations we would use and what kind of lights would be hung. We couldn’t wait.

Aunt Tommie never came by and we never got our own Christmas tree.

All these years later, I completely understand what happened that night. Aunt Tommie had the very best intentions but was too drunk to follow through. I know because I’m sure that I’m guilty of committing the same mistake. However, I learned an important lesson that year. I will never make drunken promises to little kids. Adults quickly forgive and forget the plans that are made over cocktails but kids never forget.


The Twilight Lounge

During my first year away at school, I had a job waiting tables in a high-end Italian restaurant. The place was open on Christmas Eve and we were very busy right up until we closed at 7:00 P.M. I knew that this would be the case and had made plans to leave straight from work and make the three-hour trip home to see my family. I guess they really missed me, or maybe felt sorry for me, because they rearranged the regular Christmas Eve schedule to have dinner ready at 10:00.

I called them as I was walking out the door of the restaurant and let them know I was on my way. I was really looking forward to spending the holiday with my family.

The first ninety minutes of the drive was easy. As a matter of fact, I was making record time and starting thinking that I may even be home before 10:00.

And then I hit the Tule Fog.

Tule Fog is a thick ground fog that settles in certain areas of California's Great Central Valley. It’s a phenomenon that happens throughout the winter following the first significant rainfall and it’s impossible to drive in it because the visibility is zero percent. As a matter of fact, accidents caused by Tule Fog are the leading cause of weather-related deaths in all of California. So, I was fucked.

I was in the middle of nowhere, on a small rural stretch of California State Route 152 between the towns of Los Banos and Chowchilla. Even on a clear day, there is nothing to see but fields of cotton, vineyards of grapes and orchards of peaches, pistachios and almonds. There are no shops, stores, gas stations or anything else for about 60 miles. So, I was really fucked.

When you hit this blanket of fog, it’s like you just ran into a wall of thick, black soup. It doesn’t start slowly and get gradually worse. It just begins and there is nothing to do but apply the brakes, make a U-turn and hope that you don’t get broadsided by an oncoming vehicle.

I managed to get turned around without incident and took off heading in the opposite direction. I had two choices. Knowing that the killer Tule Fog would sometimes dissipate without rhyme or reason, I could either pull over and wait it out, or I could head back to my apartment and try to make the drive in the morning. I decided to find a place to safely wait it and started driving west towards Los Banos.

Not more than two miles into my journey away from the fog, I saw a commercial building with a small dirt parking lot that I had never noticed before. I decided to park there and hope for the best. I called my parents, told them what was happening and encouraged them to not wait for me. We were all a little depressed.

The little commercial building turned out to be a bar. The Twilight Lounge. What better way of waiting out the Tule Fog than to go inside and have a few drinks? Right? So I ventured in and found that it was full of migrant field workers - all from Mexico. I don’t speak Spanish and there were very few of them that spoke any English at all. But we all drank and played pool and games of dice and laughed and even danced. My idea for a few drinks changed as I started doing shots of top-shelf El Conquistador Anejo Tequilla and learned a variety of traditional Mexican toasts. Even if the fog cleared, I would not be leaving anytime soon. Somehow, I understood that we were all in the same boat. We were all spending Christmas Eve away from our families and we were all a little sad. And in this, we all found joy.
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Re: Two Christmases

Post by Palinka (RIP) »

Bigods, sir. You have better recollections than I.
I salute you and look forward to future tales...
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Re: Two Christmases

Post by Smatter Noguts »

Great story. Cheers!

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Re: Two Christmases

Post by Rye and Coke »

Dear Booze wrote:
Mon Dec 23, 2013 6:31 pm
Aunt Tommie

I remember hating Christmas as a child. Well, not so much Christmas, but some of the things associated with it. For example, my sister and I both dreaded decorating the Christmas tree and adorning the house with holiday ornaments, trimmings and other cheerful filigree. I remember feeling like it was a pain-in-the-ass because we just weren’t able to be kids.

You see, my mother and father were perfectionists. They would supervise the hanging of every star, snowflake, colorful glass ball and every single strand of tinsel. I guess they wanted the whole place to look like some god-damned Hallmark card instead of a house where two little kids lived.

So by about the age of five or six, I decided that it less of a fun tradition and more of a miserable fucking chore. It was around this time that I figured out what my Aunt Tommie was all about.

Aunt Tommie was actually my father’s aunt. She was his mother’s sister and was always one our favorite people in the world. She was fun and exciting and told great stories.

I remember clearly that we were at church for some sort of Christmas program and she showed up stinking of [what I later figured out was] Gin. Even at that age, I recognized that she was a little too loud and a little to animated for church.

She asked me and my sister about our Christmas wishes and our holiday plans and if we had decorated our tree. We explained to her that we had chosen not to decorate the tree and told her exactly why. With this, she became even more animated and loud and incredulous about the fact that we had given up on the whole Christmas tree decorating tradition. A tradition, in her words, that “every kid needs to be able to enjoy… After all, it’s not about the parents. It’s about the kids.” As she continued, her voice became louder and other members of the congregation started turning to see who was being so loud. “This will not do and I will not have it,” she continued, “I’m leaving right now and I’m going to get you two sweeties your own Christmas tree that you can decorate any way you want!” With that, she was gone.

My sister and I were excited and made all sorts of plans. We discussed whether the new tree should be set up in her room or mine or in the hall between our rooms. We decided what types of decorations we would use and what kind of lights would be hung. We couldn’t wait.

Aunt Tommie never came by and we never got our own Christmas tree.

All these years later, I completely understand what happened that night. Aunt Tommie had the very best intentions but was too drunk to follow through. I know because I’m sure that I’m guilty of committing the same mistake. However, I learned an important lesson that year. I will never make drunken promises to little kids. Adults quickly forgive and forget the plans that are made over cocktails but kids never forget.


The Twilight Lounge

During my first year away at school, I had a job waiting tables in a high-end Italian restaurant. The place was open on Christmas Eve and we were very busy right up until we closed at 7:00 P.M. I knew that this would be the case and had made plans to leave straight from work and make the three-hour trip home to see my family. I guess they really missed me, or maybe felt sorry for me, because they rearranged the regular Christmas Eve schedule to have dinner ready at 10:00.

I called them as I was walking out the door of the restaurant and let them know I was on my way. I was really looking forward to spending the holiday with my family.

The first ninety minutes of the drive was easy. As a matter of fact, I was making record time and starting thinking that I may even be home before 10:00.

And then I hit the Tule Fog.

Tule Fog is a thick ground fog that settles in certain areas of California's Great Central Valley. It’s a phenomenon that happens throughout the winter following the first significant rainfall and it’s impossible to drive in it because the visibility is zero percent. As a matter of fact, accidents caused by Tule Fog are the leading cause of weather-related deaths in all of California. So, I was fucked.

I was in the middle of nowhere, on a small rural stretch of California State Route 152 between the towns of Los Banos and Chowchilla. Even on a clear day, there is nothing to see but fields of cotton, vineyards of grapes and orchards of peaches, pistachios and almonds. There are no shops, stores, gas stations or anything else for about 60 miles. So, I was really fucked.

When you hit this blanket of fog, it’s like you just ran into a wall of thick, black soup. It doesn’t start slowly and get gradually worse. It just begins and there is nothing to do but apply the brakes, make a U-turn and hope that you don’t get broadsided by an oncoming vehicle.

I managed to get turned around without incident and took off heading in the opposite direction. I had two choices. Knowing that the killer Tule Fog would sometimes dissipate without rhyme or reason, I could either pull over and wait it out, or I could head back to my apartment and try to make the drive in the morning. I decided to find a place to safely wait it and started driving west towards Los Banos.

Not more than two miles into my journey away from the fog, I saw a commercial building with a small dirt parking lot that I had never noticed before. I decided to park there and hope for the best. I called my parents, told them what was happening and encouraged them to not wait for me. We were all a little depressed.

The little commercial building turned out to be a bar. The Twilight Lounge. What better way of waiting out the Tule Fog than to go inside and have a few drinks? Right? So I ventured in and found that it was full of migrant field workers - all from Mexico. I don’t speak Spanish and there were very few of them that spoke any English at all. But we all drank and played pool and games of dice and laughed and even danced. My idea for a few drinks changed as I started doing shots of top-shelf El Conquistador Anejo Tequilla and learned a variety of traditional Mexican toasts. Even if the fog cleared, I would not be leaving anytime soon. Somehow, I understood that we were all in the same boat. We were all spending Christmas Eve away from our families and we were all a little sad. And in this, we all found joy.
uppin
"They told me to see the glass half full cause some see it as half empty
I chose to see the glass twice the size it needed to be" - Pharoahe Monch, 'Broken Again'

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