Well, another Christmas has come and gone and I have never been happier to see it go. I hated everything about it this year. And much like people who are allergic to cats, if you don’t want to be around it, it wants to be around you. I have never had so many joyful people sharing their spirit and festiveness than I have had this December. Every turn was a question about presents I am giving or plans I have on the eve of Christmas. I tried not to be a Scrooge and spoil other peoples holiday spirit so I kept my disdain to myself but now that it is the 27th I can officially say, stick your tree up your ass and cough up the star because this month was painful.
Now don’t get me wrong. My woes are my own doing and I own up to the fact that a change in course of life this close to Christmas generally leads to a bah humbug here or there but this month was just ridicules. I will sum it up like this. Imagine your dog eating all the silver tinsel strips off the tree and leaving a platinum shit in your slipper. That’s the Christmas season of 2007. A platinum shit in my slipper.
Whew! Glad to get that off the chest and now I can post more. I just couldn’t do it this month. Ever time I tried, the heart wasn’t in it. So now I am in Philadelphia at the Grandparents house so I have to share this. If you remember my Uncle Mark story this one will top it. God I love that guy. Well, time to start snapping pictures and writing. This one will breach the 3000 word mark. I have a lot to share.
(Lacey, this isn’t directed at you.)
Life has taken a few twists and turns over the past month. I guess that is why I haven’t been writing as frequently as I used to. But yesterday afternoon I had a bit of a creative awakening. I have been so self-absorbed I really missed the chance to notice life around me and get my usual inspiration from random happenings. Then I witnessed what few, I believe, have witnessed.
Driving through my neighborhood I pass a few man made lakes. Or maybe they are ponds. Actually I am going to go with small lakes. Anyway I noticed a lot of splashing and commotion in the center of one of the lakes. I immediately pulled over and rushed out to the dock to see exactly what was going on. Within a few seconds it became clear that I was witnessing a real life duck fight.
It was brutal and for a good 30 seconds there was nothing but splashing, quacking and feathers. But it wasn’t like watching two dogs fighting or bears defending one’s territory. It was actually ridicules and a little bizarre. Much like watching a Disney character go bad. I know that is a stretch but it elicits the same response from me. I’ve never seen a duck death match.
Well, after a few seconds it became clear that these two mallards were not giving up until one of them was flappers-up. So I, and I have no idea why, decided to break up the quarrel. Throwing acorns at them and shouting, “break it up ducks, you are embarrassing yourselves” I rapidly became disconnected from my present setting. Little did I know two ladies with a stroller stopped directly behind me and witnessed my efforts to stop the fight.
Between the well placed acorn throws and shouts of desperation to stop their duel, it worked. One duck flew one way and the other in the opposite direction. It didn’t seem that they accomplished anything more than proving to all other living creatures that much like a middle aged man on a scooter, duck fighting is something to lose respect over. So, with a sense of accomplishment I dusted off my hands and turned to walk off the dock towards my car. Then, to my surprise, I caught eyes with the two stunned soccer moms. Mustering my composure I walked past them with a purpose and said the only thing I could think of.
“It was a duck fight.”
My whole life I have tried to make the right decisions only to find that there was a much better decision I could have made staring me right in the face the whole time. I’m not saying that every one I made was the wrong one but usually there was an easier way if only I took the time to think and not shoot from the hip. There are certain people in life that can take a 50/50 chance and almost every time get it wrong. I am one of those people and I have come to accept that. When there is a fork in the road, gut feelings are not to be trusted because Murphy and I are so close he allows me to call him Murf. Let me give you an example.
This afternoon I went to the basement to hunt down the elusive Christmas tree ornament box that weighs between 45 and 500 lbs based on how high on the shelf it is. This year it was located on the tip top of the back self in the darkest corner of the basement. My mission was to retrieve it, lug it upstairs with minimal damage to the eggshell white walls and Ethan Allen furniture obstacle course between the basement and living room tree. Assessing the height, weight and angle the Rubbermade box I needed a stable platform to reach it. Looking directly at a step ladder I immediately decided that was no good and the half crushed cardboard box was just perfect to stand on because it was closer to the Christmas box.
I crawled up on the box and dispersed my weight evenly on both sides. Laughing to myself for being so clever Murphy heard me and came calling. Just as I pulled the tonnage of ornaments to the point of no return the box below gave way and we all came crashing to the cement floor. And then I woke up after dreaming about jell-o salad and a backyard Luau. No shit, I knocked myself out cold! I have only involuntarily fallen asleep a few times and that involved a needle, the smell of rubbing alcohol and blood. So now I don’t want to fall asleep because I may slip into a comma. Is that right? Concussions lead to comas? I think that’s right so it looks like a long night of VH1 Classic Rockfest.
I need to find comfort in my dilemma so I turn to the Wold Wide Web. I know my blog mates are smarter than I am so I can’t turn to them. Thanks YouTube. Again.
Did you see the ceramic Elvis at the end?
Ok, I’m back. I am sorry for the long break but I needed one. If you stick your head up your butt it really is amazing how long it takes to get out. But the important thing is that it is out and now I can continue providing people with the weird and macabre outlook I have on life. I have all sorts of great topics to write about and I am less of a retard with a rubix cube about Photoshop so now my imagination will come with pictures. Like this one. Pig Horse.