It IS the most wonderful time of the year

We made it through the holidays pretty much unscathed. I love Christmas and New Year. I mean, I really get into the holidays, probably more than people who really know me would even believe. Most of that has to do with my parents. We always had great Christmases growing up. Frank and I would get up on the 25th and haul ass downstairs and it seemed like that tree was a twig in the background compared to this sea of wrapped gifts. And we always got good and cool shit, too — great toys, bikes, all sorts of fun stuff. But the vibe was always festive and positive in our house around the holidays. Now, as an adult, I fully understand the overtime my dad had to put in or the budget watching my mom had to do, and the shopping and the wrapping and man, the fucking money — that, amid bills, two mortgages, two car payments, groceries for two boys (myself especially) who could eat a grocery store’s aisle worth of food for lunch alone. My folks did it top-shelf at the holidays, on the salaries of a plumber and a nurse. Unreal. When/if I have kids, if I crush half as hard as my parents, I’d be a superstar. So yeah, the holidays rule. I love them. And the rest of that is because I get to see good friends and family, and those I can’t see and those not with us, I keep close to my soul, and their love warms a little stronger this time of the year.

I got a fantastic fucking package from Dirty Jase. Again, he outdid himself. A stack of CDs (including Parliament), a huge pile of stickers, a couple of kickass magazines, this little battery operated Buddha Box thing that plays these weird meditative frequency tones, and a bunch of other rad shit. I was definitely thinking of him xmas eve, along with Tom and Jerry, and Trace, and especially Bear (who, by the way, recently earned his PGA pro status; nice work; talk about seeing a dream through from the time you were, like, 7). And Jeff Weller. All people around the country that I get to see once yearly if I’m lucky (except for Bear, haven’t seen him in many moons). But that doesn’t mean I don’t think about them with great respect and admiration, probably more than they would know. And the people I never get to see, like Benny T. and Rich Rezler (although that’s my fault; I know, I know). And fine folks like my e-mail pal Amy Davis, who knows me by now almost as well as people I see frequently. She has a great story and is someone for whom I have a lot of respect. She took herself out of an unsightly situation with a warped husband, got her shit together and moved the fuck on. She lives up north in a better life with a stronger, smarter husband and a teenage son (and the crazy shit that comes with THAT; yeesh, I can’t even imagine).

We kicked off the holidays right, meeting up with Nicki and BCL

at this bar at the end of our street, which is actually a great little place

cash only, two booths, two beers on tap, fried bologna sandwiches from the grill. Got up Saturday and picked up one last-minute gift and went to Kerry’s parents’ in Livonia, hung out there for a few hours, fucking CHOWED hard, opened gifts (thanks to Kerry’s mom for the lovely watch, a timepiece affixed to my wrist as I write) and watched some sports. We left there at 4 to head to my dad’s up north (two-hour drive) where we ate a little and opened more gifts. Got to spend some quality time with my nephews Sam, Nick and Al (love those boys, I swear) and my niece Nicole, arguably the cutest little girl ever. We headed back home by around 11 p.m. on the 24th, lit up the fireplace and took it easy. The 25th was a snap. Up for breakfast and then headed to Mexicantown. It was a dreary-looking, rainy day and I think these shots reflect that. Otherwise, Mexicantown is a great, vibrant, colorful part of the city and I hope to do it justice at City Chicken one day soon.

We were there to go to Christmas Mass at St. Anne’s Church. I’m not exactly a churchy kind of guy. Actually, Kerry and I both think organized religion is for the fucking birds. And technically, I’m considerably more passionate about it than that, but I’ll leave well enough alone right now. But I do love beautifully historic and ornate churches. And I love religious artifacts and depictions. I just think the Bible is full of shit. And anyone who bases their life on it, I think, is also full of shit. Having said that, I do believe in God, but I also believe it’s my right to keep it deeply personal, We get to St. Anne’s, which is positively stunning, I mean it’s something to see in there.

Sadly, my batteries died in my camera and I was limited to only a few shots.

We tried to go to National Coney Island downtown (a Burke family tradition; St. Anne’s and then National), but it was closed. American Coney was open, but fuck that place. National rules. I allow myself one coney a year and I was looking forward to it, but no luck. We went to her parents’ again for a quick visit and then home for Chinese takeout and a nap. Hells yes, Merry Christmas.