Christmas By Fanny

Do a deep dive on Fanny Cradock on YouTube and feel ten times worse about your Christmas cooking and planning. This is the sort of person who would have scared the bejesus out of me as a child, almost as much as she would have enthralled me. These days she simply provides fascinating holiday fodder in a season that needs a little blunt trauma to take the edge of the saccharine sweetness of it all

“May I say how much I admire the housewives of Britain, in these appalling present conditions, for their courage in trying to give their families another super Christmas,” she says with haughty grandeur.

Her personal story is tinged with controversy, and in today’s cancel-happy culture, she’d likely be smeared and dragged and left for obscurity. Instead, she lives on in these video clips, at the most wonderful time of the year, when we most need a frightening specter.

“I have always been extremely rude, and got exactly what I wanted.” – Fanny Cradock

Tell it, Fanny. Tell it.

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#TinyThreads: An Insignificant Series

It takes hours to make ice from scratch.

(I’m not talking about the pre-made kind that shoots out of an ice-maker.)

#TinyThreads

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A Recap A Week Away from the Big Day

A week to go and then the big day will be here. 

And then the big day will be over. 

The long stretch of winter will be at hand, and I’m ready for the quiet it may bring. 

Before this week begins, a weekly recap must end

Candles to light the longest nights of the year

Limiting the sequins to one side limits all the fun. 

Madonna, back stateside, begins the North American portion of her Celebration Tour. 

Gaslight village, yesterday’s fun today.

A rose of cabbage.

Christmas time all over again.

Am I the only one who has never seen a Willy Wonka movie?

A new swan song.

A somber Christmas moment.

Almost towering over Boston, an office job takes shape

Memories of John Hancock, as seen through the eyes of others…

… and memories of John Hancock as written in their words

A quarter of a century begins with an ending

Our Holiday Stroll brought us back to basics.

It also brought the three of us back together

Dazzlers of the Day included Joe Jonas and Ilia Malinin.

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A Holiday Stroll 25 Years in the Making: Part 2

The morning of a holiday stroll usually dawns in quiet and somewhat-surprising simplicity. After building it up in my mind since the last one, it usually feels less exciting than memory serves – not anti-climactic like Christmas, but more seriously resonant, as though there was something slightly somber at work. Spending time with good friends is, after all, serious business – and when you’re friends have become your chosen family, it means even more. 

On the day of this stroll, Kira and I woke early to have breakfast at home – an egg nog bread pudding that turned out to be divinely sinful, or sinfully divine depending on how you like to look at things. (It’s just a regular bread pudding recipe switching out the milk with egg nog – you can cut out some of the sugar based on the sweetness of the egg nog if you’d like, but since it’s the holidays I left it all in – the sweeter the better!)

Walking that off was a requirement, so we headed out on our own little stroll through Southwest Corridor Park, where the holly was showing off its own holiday efforts. 

We procured some food stuffs for the arrival of JoAnn, and on the way back stopped at the lobby of the Lenox Hotel. 

This hotel always reminds me of a happy birthday celebration that Andy and I had in their Judy Garland suite. There was a gift lion we named Lenox in our room for that 40th birthday stay, and a larger version of him now sits atop the fireplace mantle, warming himself as any lion would on a cold Boston day. 

We returned to the condo, supplies in hand, and set about to putting together a bit of charcuterie and this merry mocktail for the three of us to enjoy, as none of us drinks liquor anymore. My how times have changed…

The eager excitement of waiting for a dear friend like JoAnn lent the afternoon a glow of anticipatory delight, and as I saw her approach, Kira went down to let her in. Once we had settled into our seats around the table overlooking Braddock Park, the new Cher Christmas album went for its first spin, and as we listened to the music, we reminisced over our twenty-five years together. The three of us met back in the fall of 1998, and somehow found ourselves in this very same city a quarter of a century later, reunited and celebrating the holidays more like family than friends. Our stroll to dinner felt almost like a foot-note to the giddy magnitude of simply being together and talking again, but it held its own enchanting sway (a green woolen cape added to the traditional notion of a stroll). 

Sharing a history with such good people gives warmth to any season, but being able to be with them for the holidays warms my heart in a way that I especially appreciate this year. A lot has happened since we first started hanging out at John Hancock so many years ago, and somehow we’ve been able to maintain our friendships despite time and distance and all the things life had in store for each of us. 

Our holiday stroll weekend, set once again where it all began, was reaching its end. We were together again – and together we remembered the way life had been – and we could laugh before letting it go.

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A Holiday Stroll 25 Years in the Making: Part 1

A quarter of a century ago I met Kira and JoAnn, and as we celebrate and commemorate that happy anniversary of friendship (lifelong friendships are hard to come by these days) it felt like a good time to return to the basics of our holiday stroll. Our history has been well-documented here, and recently I’ve been waxing nostalgic for those early days at John Hancock in Boston, when we were young and foolish and having the time of our lives without even realizing it. Still, I wouldn’t trade where we are today with where we were back then – it exhausts me to even think about all those antics, all that drama, and all the unnecessary tumult of the time. Even then, all I wanted was calm, and meaningful moments with friends. After twenty-five years, we may have finally figured it out. 

Much like Christmas, my favorite part of a Holiday Stroll is usually the night before, when Kira and I convene at the condo to settle in, finish up any decorating and preparation, and find something for dinner. On this night, we made a quick trip to Chinatown for a warming bowl of pho. 

In the past, our evening walks would have wound around a few hotel bars and lobbies, meandering until we returned hours later, chilled and often wet from whatever precipitation decided to fall. On this night, there was none of the above, and we came back early to enjoy our time together in the comfort of home

I gave Kira her presents and we sat down on the couch to unwind. Around us, the Christmas decorations glowed, giving off their warm light and protecting us from the cold and dark night.

As the years pass, and scenes shift in a city as dynamic as Boston, I realize the importance of having a stable home base. It is at these times that the coziness of the condo reveals itself as a destination unto itself. All those endless nights seeking out entertainment elsewhere, searching for the right place to be at the right time – it was always here. 

We put a sweet potato in the oven in preparation of another holiday tradition – watching ‘The Man Who Came to Dinner’, which has an ice-skating scene where the characters eat a couple of ‘Hot Sweets’. Whenever that scene comes on, we stop and head into the kitchen to have our own hot sweet moment. On this evening, we had our sweet treats and spent a bit more time on the couch, letting much of the movie go by, happily lost in regaling old memories and catching up like old friends who have been apart for too long tend to do. When we crawled back into bed for the remainder of the movie, Kira promptly fell asleep before it finished. 

The Eve of a Holiday Stroll is a magical time, and I’ll always pause for a moment when Kira is already asleep, tip-toe out to the living room and sit for a moment in quiet and solitude, looking at the Christmas lights and taking in the calm. JoAnn was arriving the next day for our proper stroll, which we had pared down to a simple walk to dinner… 

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A Last Good-Bye Before Chicago, And A Missing Entry

There were two people I met during my stint at John Hancock who became lifelong friends: JoAnn and Kira. I met Kira first – she was already working there when I started. One of the quietest people I’d encountered, she kept to herself, did her work, and rarely interacted with anyone. I admired that sort of self-possession, even as I knew it was founded on uncertainty and doubt. Unsure of her English, Kira rarely spoke to anyone, but slowly, over time, we got her to join us for lunch, and she began to share her own stories.

JoAnn started after I was there for a few weeks, and as the new girl from Cape Cod she had her own battles to wage, and sometimes they were directly with me. Those early days of our friendship were tempestuous and incendiary, as we both had a love of drama at that point in our lives. Our fights were epic – the whole office weighed in on them, and witnessed many in person. Neither of us can recall what any of the bickering was about, but we must have been entangled in some battle when I sent this book around to be signed. Only Kira has an entry, and hers was the last. Reading it again, it’s clear she found her voice by that point, and took me to task right about the time when my boyfriend at the time had thrown me a surprise party that did’t go according to plan. That’s another story for another time – for now, the story shifts to Kira’s point of view:

“Que pasa? Alan, you need to stop doing things the way you do because it isn’t fair to mistreat your friends. I know you are a good friend and because I’m your friend I’m telling you this for your own benefit. Some people are not as patient as me and everyone have a limit and if you keep up with your attitude you will be alone. So if you want to have friends in this life you should try to treat them good. Just be yourself because you’re a good person and people would like you for what you are. You are one of my good friends and I’m sure going to miss you very much because I spend good and bad times with you, more good than bad. I also learned a lot from you and I hope that you do things for others because you really feel like doing it, not just because people own your stuff. PS – Also slow down on your drinks, good luck in Chicago. Tu amiga, Kira!! Love you!!”

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Getting Hancocked By This Group – Part 2

More entries in my good-bye to John Hancock book – reading them is likely of little to no interest to anyone who wasn’t there, but these tickle me in their year-book-like innocence, and some border on prescient. The rest are just ridiculously silly and funny as they are foreboding (hello Linda!) It brings me back to a simpler time, when the whole of life spread out before me. Looking forward is so much different from looking back, no matter how similar the vantage point might be. It’s also touching to see that I carved out a little legacy that is probably forgotten by all now, but perhaps reached someone back then – the way we all touch people if we try hard enough. And now, more words from my former co-workers:

“Dear God – As Fate had it, I was the one responsible for bringing Alan Ilagan to John Hancock. So all this superficial outpouring of emotion scribbled on the previous pages was my doing. I’ll take the blame. This is my confession. When I was first introduced to AI, I immediately noticed something unique about him, special if you will: he didn’t give a shit about anything. Really! He came into the interview with a lackadaisical, aloof air about him. He didn’t want the job. I realized this is “The Guy” for Research. It turns out my instincts were bull’s-eye as only this kind of attitude would succeed in J’s well-run hearse of a department. He was not well-liked at first. Others found him privileged and condescending. So did I. But he had a trivial knowledge of pop music which only I could appreciate. So I took him under my wing and taught him everything I knew about Research that he was willing to listen to while not complaining. Also, secretly, I admired the flamboyant thing – kind of a cross between Nathan Lane and the Backstreet Boy whose name escapes me now. A house-pop-dance-literary-sensitive-intellectual-smart-ass fag. Alan’s personality is one of the few that I would call perfect. If his life was a 24-hour satellite channel, I would tune in while eating my dinner. But in a way, I have better. He now knows how to use e-mail so I will be blessed with his gift for prose on, I hope, a bi-weekly occasion. He will keep me informed of his irresponsible behavior which I will chuckle at on those down moments. I will not give him words of advice as I know that wherever he’ll be, there will be someone like me to guide him through. God, you have a strange way of throwing people in each other’s paths for a brief period. Thanks for making it stick. ~ Margaret”

“What’s up Alan, so you decided to just get up and leave us after all this time. Hey imagine if you did not come to research then we wouldn’t be able to use things in our summary sheets like ‘in lieu of’. Hey you know what, it’s been cool working with you. You always laugh and find humor in everything. Hey buddy good luck – I wish you the best. Keep in touch if you have any interesting stories or any funny jokes give us a buzz.” ~ Marland

“Alan – Words cannot express the sadness and emptiness in our hearts upon your departure. The sheer volume of work (and beverages consumed) will never be matched. All of ADR will probably crumble without your constant guidance and vision. Seriously, you’ve added humor and color to an otherwise boring (though fiche-filled) job. To say nothing of the lovely bash at your apartment (probably not often some strange girl passes out in bed with you). Best of luck in your future endeavors and life in Chicago. Send me some exciting mail. Perhaps another scathing music review. I’ll miss you.” ~ Maggie

“Alan, You are an unrelenting source of humor in this otherwise-bland department! You make me laugh and somehow my days are a little shorter when you are around! You are one-of-a-kind and perhaps the only other person here who likes Madonna (‘Ray of Light’ is a great album by the way). Good luck in Chicago – you will do great.” ~ Vickie

“Alan, it’s been a pleasure working with you. I hope you didn’t get too mad when I stole the machine you were using. The research department isn’t going to be the same without you. Good luck in Chicago. You should check out a Jerry Springer taping when you get there. Best wishes.” ~ Scott

“Alan, Alice, it… whatever – I hope that you have fun I your new city. Chicago is great from what I’ve heard and I’m sure that you’ll fit right in. Not with my crowd but you’ll fit in with some other sick and deranged people (Just Kidding.) I hope you find happiness as well as a good psychiatrist out there. Best of luck and good luck in the rest of your life!” ~ Vincent

“Alan, the research department will be lost without you and don’t let anyone say anything different. I’ll miss your bright colors {HAIR}. Good luck in whatever the future might bring you. You were very pleasant to work with. We all will be gone soon enough. Bye. ” ~ Linda

“To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism; to steal from many is research.” Well Alan we had almost. full year here together, and what a time we had. Certainly we can not recall all the researchers that have come and gone over that time, but we’ll always remember the original (and best yet I might interject) morning crew of two. Yes research has gone through many transitions over our time here, but there have been those few constant members that have made this department function. You are one of those pieces, and you all be sorely missed in the coming months. Alan, I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors and pray for a Cubs/Red Sox World Series. Take care always.” ~ Michael

“Alan, I don’t know where to begin!! Well ADR will be lost without you. I will be lost without you!! I will miss trying to be the peace-maker between you and Kira, smoking outside with you, yelling at you for being mean, and out of all our singing. I had never met a gay man before you, so you are my one and only gay friend. (Do you feel privileged?) I will never forget you and I hope you never forget me. Don’t get wrapped up in the party scene in Chicago, and lose sight of what’s important to you. You are one of the smartest and talented people I have ever met, and I wish that your time here hadn’t passed so quickly. Just don’t forget the party at your house that I planned, the party that I never got, our private little party, and the party we are going t have on Friday! These few things should make you smile on a bad day. Well Big Al I will miss you, and I wish you the best of luck in whatever you decide to do.” ~ Michelle

“Al – Great party. Cool duds. Enjoy the Windy City.” ~ Joe

“Alan: What can I say to you that won’t make you laugh? Nothing, cause even if I look at you the wrong way or I’m in a bad mood I make you laugh. I have to say there were times when you would drive me out of my mind. I would want to jump out of my seat and just strangle you. But I guess that’s a part of being you. When you guys could find nothing better to do but aggravate and upset me with the stupid comments from Shawn and Michael, or throwing paper balls at one another, or thinking you would trade my good chair for a broken one and trying to get away with it. No way was I going to let that happen. But those are the trials and tribulations of working in research I hope you had a good time while it lasted. I will really miss you, and I will never forget you. Keep in touch – luv ya.” ~ Sandy

There are two more entries (well, sort of) that I have saved for the next blog post, as they are, more or less, from the two people who became lifelong friends: Kira and JoAnn. Yes, these memories of John Hancock have all been a run-up to this year’s Holiday Stroll, so stay tuned…

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Getting Hancocked By This Group – Part 1

By the time August of 1999 rolled around, almost a year into my first office job, I’d made a name for myself in the research department at John Hancock, and more importantly to my young and foolish heart, I’d fallen in love and was set to leave the city of Boston for the city of Chicago and an apartment with my boyfriend at the time. It was time to move on from that job anyway – the research project on which I was working was entering the next stage, which meant our little group would be splintering off. There were whispers of permanent employment for those who did well and might be interested in such a thing, but that wasn’t me at the time. When asked if I wanted to stay on, I did what you’re never supposed to do: tell the truth. I was leaving, and no one could persuade me otherwise. The heart wants what it wants, and in some ways I was simply scared to stay. Immaturity works that way

Before my last day, I circulated a little velvet book that I asked all my co-workers to sign. Whether they, or I, wanted to admit it or not, we had formed a little work family. We also knew how to play when the day was done, and while our group was filled with all sorts of people from all walks of life, we became part of each other’s lives. Whenever you go through something at such a pivotal time of life, it informs your history, and at twenty-three years old, I was ripe for being influenced. I’ll let their words speak for whatever impact I left on them; they showed me acceptance and inclusion when I’d almost given up on both. 

“Alan, Well to top things off I would like to say “thank you” for I feel honored and privileged knowing that I am the chosen one to set things off. I would like you to know it was a pleasure working with you and sometimes hard but bearable. The advice you gave to me was a big help in some way… I wish you and P— the best wishes in Chicago. You know in a month or two I’ll probably be saying I’m manless but at least A—- is in the picture for now. Alan you are a great friend, a wonderful and crazy person, but most of all you are fun and an asshole and I love you.” – Tamekia

“Alan, I met you on January 5, 1999, my first day at John Hancock’s ADR project at 380 Stuart Street, Boston. My first job outside (full-time) the home in 16 years. You made me feel good about myself. You taught me to listen to my feelings, and show happy, sad, mad, glad. Your e-mails, signs, posters all showed me the same. Happy, you smile miles wide. Sad, you make faces (pouty) and make it perfectly clear your feelings. It has been a pleasure to know you and work with you. Your kind nature (sending my daughter a post card from Chicago) will take you far. Your love of writing (never stop) will pay your bills someday. You now need to cut the apron strings and fly on your own. Always take care of yourself first. Think before you get involved in a relationship. Best of luck.” ~ Marion

“Alan, I arrived here for my first day of work and met you. Alan, you were hung over from the weekend. Yes this is my first memory of you. Everyone asked, ‘Did you meet the Madonna fan Alan?’ Yes, I did and I’m glad I met you. You became the person I could joke with. Have fun in Chicago. It’s a fun city – you and P— should have a lot of fun. You were able to make this job fun. When you move to Chicago keep that sense of humor. Alan you were a great person to work with and call a friend. Don’t drink too much. Stay in touch, keep being that asshole you are, and never forget us in Boston. We will miss you. I will miss you.” ~ Craig

“What’s up Alan – it’s been super cool working with you. The only thing that wasn’t cool is that I missed your party and missed all that drinking (ha, ha). But on another note you’re a very cool person and I wish you the best of luck in the big Windy City.” ~ Will

“Alan, I have to say I will miss your one-of-a-kind attitude and overall personality… when you’re at your next job if you need to pull out a staple ask someone for a ‘staple remover’ – that’s what it’s called, not a candy opener.” ~ Shawn

“Dear Alan, We pretty much share the same qualities, so of course I am going to miss someone who has the wit, charm, personality and intelligence as myself! I wish you all the best in Chicago! Stay strong! For only the strong survive. Peace.” ~ Reggie

“Alan – How you ever survived a full year of this hell-hole, I will never know! You did it and you’re out – you should be extremely proud of yourself. It was wonderful having you at work everyday. You made me smile, which is hard to do… I rarely cross paths with individuals like you. I like your sassiness and your wit. Keep your head up and your spirit strong. It has been a pleasure talking with you and seeing that smile everyday. I wish we had more time to get to know each other, but I have enjoyed these past few months. If you ever need a helping hand or a listening ear, you can call or write anytime. I would absolutely love to hear from you! I envy your strength and pride, a few of the wonderful qualities you possess. You are wonderful. You have made my job more enjoyable. Thank you!!” ~ Jaime

“Alan, Alan, Alan!! It’s been almost a year now and I still can’t figure out how you stayed so long with such a good writing ability. Use those skills man and you will go very far in life, and hey maybe you’ll even met Madonna! (Did I tell you I have pictures of her house?) We have been through a lot together – Sandy’s belly-aching, JoAnn, Kira breaking the spreadsheet, but those experiences are nothing compared to what you’re up against in the windy city… [whited-out sentence] That was the most dorky sentence I ever wrote. In fact I think I might white it out. Now I bet you’re wondering what I wrote? Am I getting to you. Am I getting to you!!! But hey seriously, good luck and have fun. Send me mail, I don’t have any friends. Good luck.” ~ Shawn M.

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Almost Towering Over Boston, An Office Job Takes Shape

Twenty five years ago I was working in the ADR Research Department of John Hancock Insurance. They needed people to delve into years and years of records to address a class action lawsuit, and that’s about all I was told. It involved scanning microfiche and writing down duplicate numbers and reporting our findings to people at the next level. To this day, I’m not sure what we were looking for or if any of our numbers made any difference, good or bad. All I cared about was that I was getting paid, and had some money to go out and party like I was twenty-three. (A twenty-three-year-old like myself was too busy discovering the city of Boston, seeking out love, and hoping to get past all the shitty things that could and did happen to a young gay man in the 90’s. Simple survival was a feat in an of itself.)

It was my first office job, and after working in an orchid greenhouse, a hospital cafeteria, and a store named Structure, I embraced its regular hours and laid-back requirements. Showing up on time and simply doing what you were told to do puts you ahead of the majority of people in my experience. Not being a complete dick helps too, as does some wit and style. All in all, I learned what an office was like, and it quickly became clear that it wasn’t so much the work that mattered as it was the group of people with whom you did it. Being a nameless cog among many nameless cogs was a strange and surprising comfort to me; standing out takes a greater toll than anyone who doesn’t often stand out could ever understand. 

Our office was not in what used to be known by all as the John Hancock Tower, but right across the street in a much smaller and nondescript building. While our work was done there, our lunches were mostly taken in the expansive cafeteria in the basement of the main tower, and we also had access to the observatory if we wanted to show the city off to any visiting friends or relatives. Working for a company so emblematic of Boston didn’t thrill me anymore than working for a retail store did, but it did make me feel like I was genuinely part of the city at last. And slowly, I made a few friends, and impacted the dull office that had never seen the likes of someone like me… 

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A Somber Christmas Moment

While I’ve been outwardly going through the motions at work, on this blog, and at most social events I’ve attended of late, underneath it all I’m not feeling the seasonal happiness that Christmas, at its best, often affords. Given that this is our first Christmas without Dad, I’m not forcing myself to find mirth and glee in anything right now, nor am I shutting myself off from any happiness and good-will that might present itself. I’ve been in a state of blah, seeking out cozy moments of quiet, and more often than not of solitude, or spending time with Andy watching silly Christmas movies (he’s the one who introduced me to the wonder of ‘National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation’ and ‘It Happened on Fifth Avenue’). I’ve also done my best to put a seasonally appropriate spin on these blog posts, sprinkling some added sparkle and pizzazz to whatever I’m recounting in an effort to conjure cheer and enchantment. 

Andy has been helpful to that end, indulging in holiday traditions as they come up, but not pushing us toward things we don’t want or need to do. I like to remember our first Christmas together, in which we hung stockings I’d made with our names on them over the fireplace that Andy had at his old house. We were still new to each other, and finding our own Christmas traditions would take years – years the I happily took to make our way together.  That first Christmas was also the Christmas I met his parents for the first time, which resulted in this never-to-be-forgotten introduction to his Mom’s highball

We have many holiday memories of my parents and family as well, and most are happy ones, which I will rekindle whenever I feel myself losing the way of the season. Those come loaded with bittersweet accents now, as the group we once were dwindles with each passing year

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A New Swan Song

It’s been a while since one of Ryan Murphy’s shows has impressed me, and the last one to do so may have been the ‘Feud’ between Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. That offered a different view on what might have gone on between those legendary ladies, and I am holding similar hopes for his take on ‘Capote vs. The Swans’ which reportedly chronicles the relationship between Truman Capote and his New York City socialites, almost-affectionately nicknamed the Swans. There is rich and fertile ground for exploration here, and it proves to be fascinating to see how some incredible actresses portray these incredible waterfowl. Fasten your seatbelts, I hope it’s going to be a bumpy night. 

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#TinyThreads: An Insignificant Series

Count me among the few people who have never seen a Willy Wonka movie in any of its iterations. Imagine that! My allegiance lies with Mary as far as children’s films go. 

#TinyThreads

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Christmas Time All Over Again

Andy and I were watching the end of ‘The Grinch Who Stole Christmas’ when he remarked that in his childhood, the cartoon seemed to go on forever – a brief treatise on the shifting perspective of time, something that has touched this blog of late, and something that comes into play more and more the older we get. I understood exactly what he was talking about – those cartoons did seem to last for hours, with Christmas cookie breaks and bathroom runs and changing into cozy pajamas during the voluminous commercial breaks. Watching these specials was an event

Now, we turn on one of these Christmas shows and it’s done in at the blink of an eye, before I can pop all the blood pressure meds and allergy pills that constitute the nightly ritual. Andy and I feel the rush of time, in the loss of loved ones, in the loss of traditions that once felt unbreakable. Time, as I’ve often said, is the great equalizer. In the end, it will always win, and it will take every last one of us. 

As Andy and I navigate this next section of our lives, and the holiday seasons evolve and change, we take the Christmas specials as they come. When ‘A Christmas Story’ and ‘National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation’ run as 24/7 marathons, we let them play, nestle into our places in the family room, and indulge in what feels like forever again. 

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Rose of Cabbage

Approaching the edge of winter, the weather shouldn’t be quite this fine, and while no one is complaining, it leaves me uneasy with the reality of global warming. Back in 1993, one of the requirements for new students at Brandeis University was to read the book ‘Beyond the Limits’ which gave very similar forecasts of what the temperatures are today. It was harrowing and depressing look at where humanity was headed, and I didn’t see then how everyone could ever be convinced to stop the slide. My pessimism has not abated, and I still don’t see it, especially as those who think it’s a conspiracy have only dug deeper into their ignorance. 

As the world slowly burns, at least we will get to gaze upon roses in December, roses of all kinds. 

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#TinyThreads: An Insignificant Series

Not thinking is the surest way to gaslight me. 

#TinyThreads

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