Thursday, December 22, 2005
6:35 PM

Just some random pre-Christmas thoughts

I'm sitting at Panera near my mom's, dreading Christmas Day. It's at her house like usual. That means the messes in every room will be shoved into one room, usually the pool or laundry room, so people can walk by. I mean hobble by for those with walkers or canes. Or roll by for those wheelchair-bound relatives. This has been the way Christmas is every year for me over the past seven years or so. As much as I want to have no part of it, I'm drawn to the dysfunction, the pill bottles passed back and forth, the depressing sights of cluttered hallways and inaccessible doors. It's simply the reality that is my family.

Earlier today I braved the last minute crowds at a huge suburban Chicago mall. The place was nuts. I only needed one thing, a Brett Favre jersey for my godson. But it's not from me; it's from Santa. His parents couldn't find one. "Leave it up to me. I'll get it from me," I told them. "But he asked Santa for it," Gary's father told me. "It needs to be from him. We'll meet up with you to get it before Christmas Eve."

And with that I set off to find a Brett Favre jersey. But why? Favre is having his worst season ever. The Packers just lost on Monday Night Football to the lowly Baltimore Ravens 48-3, the most lopsided score in MNF history. Favre is terrible right now. But, according to Gary's dad, little Gary like the Packers 'cause of the 'G' on the helmets. He also likes the University of Georgia for the same reason. Kids.

I found a gold jersey and a white one, but no green one. They were only kids' XL, which could be a little snug on lil' Gary, but I bought the gold one anyway. "I haven't seen many like it before," I told Gary's dad. "He'll love it." But he probably won't. Kids don't like to be different. They want things as they are on TV. Brett Favre doesn't wear gold jerseys. Oh well. Maybe he will to right the sinking Packers' ship.

I was telling a friend today about how I came to be Gary's godfather. "His original godfather committed suicide," I shared, "so they asked me. Actually, first he came out that he was gay and that's when they asked me. Then he killed himself. Either way, it's not like I was the first choice. Nothing glamorous about it."

"Man, that's worse than being an usher in someone's wedding," my friend joked, knowing I do a joke in my act about being an usher in a wedding means I'm their 9th best friend. "It's the same people," I told my friend. "No fuckin' way," he replied, lauging hysterically into the phone. "You got screwed over both times." And I guess I did, but still I didn't/don't mind. No one else will ever ask me to be a godfather. I don't go to church that much any more and when I do it's because I'm either desperate for God's help or in a small town with little else happening.

I called a short while ago to talk with Gary to arrange a meeting time and place for the Favre jersey. I have both a gold one and a green one, the latter being an adult large that Gary will wear as a nightgown. They can pick which one they want and I will take back the other one.

There was no answer on Gary's cell phone, so I called the house. They live with his in-laws and I always dread such a call, not because his in-laws are bad people. They are very nice actually, but their name. Their last name. It's Cockcream. No matter how you say it, whether it's Cock-ream or Coc-kream, it's hilarious and uncomfortable. Often times I mumble it or manage to fake a cough when addressing them. I don't know them well enough to call them by their first names, although I would think that with a name like Cockream, you would demand that people call you Don or Vicki, just as a kind gesture. There was no answer, so I dodged a bullet.

At the mall, as I walked toward my car, a mother had just dropped off her kids, one of which was an older girl, maybe 12 or 13. "Do you have your diarrhea medicine," the mother yelled. "No," said the daughter. Call me crazy but couldn't the mother have called the girl over to the car and asked more discreetly? Or maybe this was her way of getting even with her for the outrageous cell phone bill last month.