….including self important:
Now go blow some stuff up….I’m being lazy and have decided to recycle an old Trib column about Plowman’s trip to the fireworks store by way of holiday greetings:
I have to admit, even I got a little excited as we entered the tragedy waiting to happen that was the showroom. We were presented with aisle after aisle of explosive options — everything from the innocuous champagne party poppers that are even legal in Delaware to the $80, “Pyrotechnic Motherlode,” which promised to “cover a very wide field of view in the sky.”
Christmas photos: Lots of dog pics. Still figuring out the new camera so they’re kind of dark, and I haven’t cleaned them up or cropped them yet.
Airing of the Grievances: I don’t send holiday cards. I know — I’m an adult and I should. I always tell myself I’m going to do it and then I don’t. If not to get in touch with old friends then to soothe professional contacts. But it just seems like such a weird thing for a single guy to do.
Last holiday season Bill Plowman and I had discussed posing for a photo in Christmas sweaters with a borrowed child and we’d send it out as our individual Christmas card with no explanation. Imagine the befuddled looks on the faces of people you hadn’t seen in years when they got a card with the two of us wearing shit-eating grins and bad clothes with a cute yet confused kid tucked in between us. But as a gag, it’s akin to taking the top of the salt shaker — you don’t get to see the pay off, so why bother?
Nor do I do the form letters updating people on what I’ve been up to over the past year. Again, as a single guy, it puts me dangerously close to talking about Cosmo as if he were an actual human child and beyond close to the ever-lasting ridicule of my friends. People who want to know what I’ve been up to generally check in here and feel my love and/or hate for them year round.
So what I am going to do, in the spirit of Festivus, is air my grievances. It’s been an incredibly good year for me and not too many people wronged me, but you still better duck.
- First up on my list is people who do send Christmas cards. As comfortable as I am in my decision to not get writer’s cramp for a solid weekend each December, I have a long line of cards from you people sitting next to my computer that does make me feel a slight bit guilty.
- The MBTA. Not because I ride you often or have many problems when I do, but bashing you is a very trendy thing to do in the Boston blog world. You won’t get off this list until someone can explain the damn Charlie Card system to me.
- Kelly, Rob and Christina, the parking lot in Wakefield — last time I checked — is not in Dublin. WE HAD A PACT!
- The Stalker just needs to get over it.
- I have no real grievances with most of the people I dated this year. On the whole you were nice, interesting and fun (and I say this because I know 90% of you still stop by here on a regular basis). But a couple of you — and you probably know who you are — should…well, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it.
- Unless you’re talking about Sean McDaniel and any of the other anonymous pricks who like to leave comments here.
- Stathis, you were a bit off this year. Your comments weren’t as biting and some of them were actually borderline nice. I’ll expect better (or worse, depending on how you want to look at it) in 2007.
- Loud cell phone talkers, get over it. We all have one — and have had one for several years — now.
- Paul, I’m glad I met you but I was hoping to live vicariously through you. There is still a chance to redeem yourself when you return the ring.
- Brad, it’s been two years of banging out scripts and making contacts. Time for us to shit or get off the pot.
- Me, for using yet another cliche, and a rather vulgar one at that.
- To all my regular readers. Without your hundreds of visits each day and your fun and often thoughtful comments, I wouldn’t be emailing and checking stats so much and may actually get more done.
Happy holidays, everybody.