I'm totally nonreligious, but this was darned funny.
So yesterday I made an 11 pound plus ham with all the fixings for my parents, extended family, and "The Ingrates." Joining us for the first time was my godchild's new boyfried (fill in name here.) No, I'm not really looking to protect the innocent, I just really don't remember his name. My first impression of him was marred by the fact that he left his "backwards-facing" baseball cap ON when he entered my parents' house. While I'm not old-fashioned in all things, I believe that you should show respect when appropriate. First, he was walking into someone else's home, hat should've come off. Secondly, he was in the presence of ladies, hat should've come off. I informed my mother that she was NOT to say anything to him, and we would see if he earned "strike three" by keeping the hat on through dinner. I told my mother that if that happened, I would wait until everyone was done eating and then I would take the kid appart verbally so that it would never happen again. Unfortunately, my mother is incapable of playing the game and suggested to him that he hang up his coat and hat soon after. I called her on it, as the guy wasn't wearing a coat at the time, and she admitted that she said it just to keep me calm and so I wouldn't make a scene after/during the meal. Well, it turns out the kid had NOTHING on my godchild's step-father. Not only did he once again show up for dinner in his best "holiday" sweatpants, but he wore a santa hat the entire time he was in my parents house, including throughout the meal. Mind you, this was AFTER he'd heard my mother tell the other kid to take his hat off! Ah yes, true to his nature, Ingrate #4 never disappoints!
I realize that I am far from being the ultimate judge on all things in popular culture. That being said, there are a bunch of things that truly drive me crazy, yet seem to be more than popular with the masses. To help identify the items that drive me crazy, I have decided to dedicate something as "overrated" every week or so. Please note that I mean no harm with these declarations... I just feel that something needs to be said.
In the spirint of jumping in with both feet... my first subject matter is: Led Zeppelin.
I don't get it. I never did, and I never will. I find the musical quality of the band mediocre at best. Jimmy Page's guitar stunts do not so much impress me as they do bore me. Robert Plant's "worble" can hardly be called singing (then or now,) and John Paul Jones and John Bonham are (were) quite forgettable in their own right. I am a fan of many bands, some old, some new, that continually claim Led Zeppelin as one of their major influences, but I do not see/hear any such connections. "Blindly worshipping" Led Zeppelin appears to have been one of the first true "trends" in rock music. The fact that their populartiy springboarded via this trendiness undermines anything they ever attempted to accomplish. In fact, it puts them right up there with the entire Seattle area in the 80's, the rise of Merlot and Pesto in the 90's, and the worshipping of skate culture amongst non-skating folk nowadays.
Were your holiday cards store bought, handmade, online, TBD or MIA?
Interestingly enough, they were bought online, but they're from a small, one-man operation... Mikey Boy cards! This is the third or fourth year in a row I've used one of his designs. The owner actually communicates all the shipping information himself, and is very open to feedback and suggestions. Heck, this year with my order he actually sent me a card of my own, hand-drawn inside and signed!
My "Who" name is "Merry Michael Agoo-Who."
What's yours? Drag the viewer over the Whoville City Hall and then click the description.
I created my own online city... feel free to visit and help improve it!
What is the best present you have ever given?
Submitted by quornflour.
I once wrote a private letter and the beginning of a short story in a blank hardcover book that I got from A.C. Moore's craft store. I think of everything I have ever done, that one made the most impact on the receiver.
If your Vox Neighborhood had a potluck dinner tonight, what dish, drink or dessert would you bring?
Oh, there are so many answers... I make a mean meatloaf... and I often travel with bottles of wine... but if a dessert is requested, then there's nothing like my 5-layer chocolate covered apples.
So for five years I've been cooking all the major holiday meals for my parents and the extended family, whom i've dubed "The Ingrates." A few folks have asked me for some more specifics, so I figure I'd give it a shot. Let us tackle things in an orderly fashion, shall we?
1. Why do I cook all the holiday meals when I'm a straight, single, "weekend warrior part-time father?"
The "Holiday" meals used to be a shared duty between my mother and her sister. My Aunt always had Thanksgiving, my mother always hosted Christmas dinner, and they would take turns hosting Easter. When my Aunt died, my Mother then took over all the remaining holidays. Five years ago, my mother had the first of a series of coronary arterial bypasses... since then, she tires easily, and really shouldn't lift anything heavy or undergo any undo stress. As my mother still insists on hosting the big meals for the family, I volunteer my services so that she will not be disappointed.
2. Why have I dubbed the extended family "The Ingrates?"
Techically, the're not all worthy of that label. The majority of them are just fine. Historically, there have been four individuals that have disgusted me beyond belief. In truth, because of these individuals, I am too disgusted to eat with the rest of the family. Yes, that's right, I spend 5+ hours working on a giant meal with all the fixings that I do not even get to enjoy.
3. What behavior makes one a member of "The Ingrates?"
Oh, the tried and true methods come to mind first: alcoholism, blatant drug use, chain-smoking in the house, being disrespectful to my parents (the hosts of the meal for crying out loud!,) interfering with the cook (do whatever you want in the rest of the house, just stay out of MY KITCHEN until you're called to the table.!,) coming to a main holiday meal in your finest sweatsuit / loungewear (come on, would it kill you to throw on a pair of jeans and a shirt with a collar or a sweater?) But I think the biggest thing that bothers me is... the ones that are guilty of all the aforementioned behavior never appreciate the meal and the time with the other family. Sure, they say a cursory thank-you to my mother and occasionally my father, but they don't mean it. They don't even have enough sense to realize that everyone else knows it too.
For those of you that enjoyed the Great Easter Debacle I mentioned earlier this year, note that Thanksgiving is off to a different, yet equally cursed, start. While the oven is actually working this time around, I ran into a new issue. After washing the roasting pan and all the platters I intend to use this afternoon, I grabbed a dishtowel from the usual place. (For the past 30 years, I can recall that clean, if a tad bit damp, dishtowels were always placed on the radiator in the kitchen so that they could dry a bit faster.) Imagine my surprise when after drying the roasting pan, the turkey rack, and a couple of platters when I noticed some big black streaks on the bone-white platter I dried last. Upon taking a closer look, I realized that it was a large amount of cat hair. Hmmm, that's strange... how did that get here. Oh look, the non-white dishtowel I was using had a fair amount of the stuff camoflaged in with the pattern! When I asked mother dear how this happened, she stated that since my deceased sister's cats came to live with her, she covers some of the furniture in dishtowels because the cats always sit on them. She also places these dishtowels on the radiator as a reminder to her to bring them downstairs to be laundered. Oh, I'm sorry, my bad, apparently a 30 + year long behavioral habit was totally changed and nobody bothered to inform the chef where the clean dishtowels were now kept. Needless to say I then re-washed and re-dried the roasting pans, rack, and platters. What other mysteries await me today... only time will tell.
