2015 Christmas Fiasco

One of the challenges with writing a daily…ish blog is that after two or three years topics don’t come as readily as they once did. I suppose that is something that should have been expected.

It isn’t that I don’t have stupid opinions any longer, it is just that I have voiced those opinions ten, twelve or thirty times already. Now, I can’t get enough of me and it appears that lately there is one guy in Russia and another guy in the Ukraine that are going through all 1666 blogs, fifty or sixty a day. I kind of hope its Vladimir Putin or whoever happens to be the Ukrainian President this week. It would be really nice to get an all expense trip to Russia. The Ukraine would be nice too.

I’m also going through a little emotional turmoil wondering if I should have or could have or might have. The fact is, I did what I did and nothing can alter that. Well, maybe if someone invents a time machine, but really, I would be investing in Apple, Facebook and buying tickets to Woodstock, not trying to fix my interpersonal relationships. I behaved the way that was right and proper at that time and place.

I don’t think I would go to Woodstock either. It looks like fun in the movie, but unless you were helicoptered in to the site is would have been horrible. I went to a similar concert at Watkins Glen in 1973 and it was a memory I wish had never happened. In some ways large groupings of humans bring out the best and the worst, more worst that best in my opinion.

Speaking about the worst; I received a pair of slippers for Christmas which is what I asked for and pretty much all that I wanted. I have been wearing the same style of slipper for about twenty five years. The first pair of MEC “camp shoes” lasted about fifteen years and I found a second pair ten years in on the MEC bargain table one day. It turns out that they were two left slippers, but since they were more sock than slipper, they worked well enough. This year I felt that I had matured enough to get “big boy” slippers, kind of a cross between loafers and moccasins.

I put them on as soon as they were unwrapped and have worn them ever since. It has been about nine days and I returned them today because they were falling apart. The seams just split. Thankfully, I still have my two left foot slippers to fall back on. Now I have to search far and wide for an inexpensive, extremely well constructed pair of slippers. It may just take five years or so.

I know what you are going to say, but MEC just doesn’t carry the camp shoes any longer. I am patient and have a positive mental attitude when it comes to footwear. More or less. Well, less than more after the 2015 Christmas fiasco.

Crazy Brian

I have a friend that sent me pictures on facebook today of a large group of people who were participating in one of those “Polar Bear” swims. I guess the idea is to ring in the New Year by taking a dip in near freezing water. I am aware that people do this, I’m just not sure why. I would be more than happy to take a dip in the ocean off of Honolulu or Kehei, but not Parkville BC or anywhere near there.

I’ve always known that my friend was one or two bricks short of a full load, but other than being just a little twisted he seems kind of nice. It appears that I have been mistaken all of these years; Brian is out of his freakin’ mind! Let me know when “little Bri” returns to normal size, sometime in July probably. I bet Linda wasn’t stupid enough to jump in a cold ocean.

 

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It’s funny how much New Year’s Eve can change as you travel through your life. When I was little, I remember that was the day that there were potato chips, pretzels, candy and pop in the fridge for us to enjoy. It also signalled an end to Christmas in my mind because shortly after we would head back to school and all we had to look forward to was playing in the snow and homework for the next few months.

I got a little older and New Years Eve was a party that we planned for weeks ahead of time. First, we needed to secure a location where parents were out for the night and was available for a party. Alcohol was next on the agenda, but it never seemed to be that hard to obtain. I can’t remember how, but I suspect older siblings factored into the equation. Some years everything worked out and other years we drifted back and forth from one adult parent party to another. They weren’t as much fun, but did provide an insight into what it was like to be fully adult.

One friend’s parents would hold a party every New Years Eve and all were welcome. We always made sure to drop in around midnight because at the stroke of midnight the neighbour from across the street would walk up and down the street dressed only in a diaper. He must have been terribly drunk and very cold. I guess there wasn’t a large body of water near by for him to jump in.

The planning for New Years was always more fun than the actual night. We spent a lot of it walking around in the cold, drunk and walking around in the cold, looking after a friend that was a sad, depressed drunk and ultimately getting a chaste kiss on the cheek from the girl you were madly in love with. I never really liked to get drunk, and being sober among drunks was less than enjoyable.

For many of the past New Years, Louise and I have spent a relatively quiet evening at home and when midnight comes we kiss and then open the back door to let the old year out and open the front door to let the New Year in. Shortly there after, we head to bed and dream of the year to come.

Last night I dreamt of a healthy and prosperous year filled with laughter and love.