48 Christmas's So Far

Let's see...I need some Christmas stories to write about, or snippets.

When I was six, I woke up long before anyone else in this house out of excitement to see what presents Santa had left. I quietly went down the stairs and was elated to find the living room floor packed with gifts! He was here!

I tried to walk through the gifts, seeing which ones were tagged with my name and in doing so, I unbalanced the Christmas tree and sent it falling on top of me. The fall was a slow motion collapse with the sound of the branches rustling and the glass blown ornaments clinking.

My next thought was of total fear. If my parents woke up to see that I have knocked the tree over, I'm doomed! So, using the best brains a six year old can muster in a dire situation, I quietly as possible lifted the tree back onto it's three legged stand. I then had to replace about 20 fallen ornaments that had jostled loose from the tree and clear gobs of tinsel off the gifts.

No one woke up! Another crime successfully carried out! I was however busted on eating the chocolate I found in my stocking. I forgot to wipe my face off. 

*****

When this family and the extended ones of Uncles, Grands and what have yous were alive, we'd all meet for a Christmas Eve party at Uncle Joe's house on Sterry St in Pawtucket. It was one of the few times I managed to see all my girl cousins and at first, it wasn't that much fun as the adults kept corralling us to the “kid's table” and watched us like hawks for the slightest misbehavior.

We kids were smart enough though. All we had to do is wait about 45 minutes. The adults, being Irish, would start getting gooned on the beer and special liquors they broke out for an occasion like this.

Two hours into their drinking, we kids didn't exist. We could run, flying through the house, during some game we invented and in the process, bash our foreheads on table corners and knock stuff over. Were we stopped? We just got a few verbal reprimands that we could tell carried NO weight whatsoever.  The grown ups were too spiced to deal with us long. My oldest cousin liked to wrestle so she and I made a great mess of her bedroom one year. No one stopped us as we crashed on the bed, bureau and side tables.

At the end of the night, and funny as shit, was watching my Dad trying to steer his fourteen foot long  '69 Chevy Impala home while buzzed. My Mom rarely drank and if she did, three beers to her was like slugging down a keg. She was straight as an arrow and acted as navigator in the passenger seat. I'd hear hear shout out, “Richard! For Christ's sake...THAT was the CURB!...YOU drove up on the CURB!”

He did too. I can tell you exactly where. Division Street by McCoy stadium.  

Don't forget..in 1970, driving drunk was LEGAL.

My Dad of course brushed off her objections. I can remember him saying, “Maureen..would you pipe down? I'm doing 15mph! How can I crash the car at this speed?!”

The truth is my Dad drove drunk like today's teens drive stoned; very, very slow. It's fun watching your own stalwart, business-minded Dad act like a clown at times.

*****

Not too long ago, my brother was employed as a writer at Providence Monthly. Also employed there were a fair amount of Jewish people who my brother had become friends with. They invited him to their yearly festival of going to a decent Chinese restaurant to eat and drink. I went along one year.

Not being Jewish and having no Jewish friends left me short of just what they do on the BIGGEST Catholic holiday of the year. They know Catholic Rhode Island shuts down and they have to find heathen, pagan businesses that are open.  Lucky for them the Chinese could care less about Christmas!   I finally made it to the China Inn in downtown Pawtucket to find it absolutely packed. I managed to find my brother's table and knew a few of his co-workers there and met a few I didn't know. As I sat there, eating noodles and drinking beer, I listened to their conversations.

They were gossiping about the others in the restaurant. I didn't know this but one finally clued me into one fact, the biggest movers of the Jewish community that lived on the East Side of Providence were in attendance that night. I looked around and just saw plain ol' public faces you'd see anywhere. I didn't see any movers and shakers whatsoever.  I suppose heads of banks, universities, rug/diamond importers were all in there. If so, I never recognized any.

I did find out just how monied some of them were when the restaurant finally closed and kicked everyone out, the cars that drove by were quite impressive!

We ended up at his friend's house (on the East side...imagine that!) and partied till about three AM. This is when I met Mike Fink for the first time. To be honest, I was a bit put off talking “art"to a long time art/engish professor. Just how on God's earth could I discuss art when all I can say is “I appreciate some of the art I see.” But he was a genuine nice guy and I got to know him well for a few years. Christmas morning dawned soon enough when we got home and I ate Lo Mein and real Crab Rangoon.  That fake crab meat is just pollock hauled into some Russian fishing trawler, dyed pinkish and frozed solid four months ago.