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December 25, 2003 #
 Two for the blow... Social Distortion. It's now 11:55 am December 25 as I write this and the holidays are officially kaput. Presents have been opened; the first martini chilled, poured, and downed; and the fire burns like the hemorrhoids my dad has been bitching about since I got here. There may be one or two more crazy nights for the "wandering tribe," but for goys throughout the land, Xmas is officially "no mas" with dos x's in its eyes. Now we begin to pay the penance for the gifts given to us -- remaining with the family three more days. Luckily we're CT wasps, so most of that will be spent drunk (think "Arthur" meets "Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolfe" meets "The Ice Storm"). As luck would have it, Grandma Gage's gift to me this year was a wonderful hair shirt! Thankfully, she made it herself, and being as bald as a Cosmo girl's punani, she crafted it from her very own wig. Still, it's itchy enough and everywhere I go the scented cocktail aroma of Bengay and disappointment wafts behind me in a sickening cloud. (Grandma also gives all the kids empty envelopes. They should contain cash but for the last five years they've been empty, to make certain we are all aware that she can no longer even access her own money, as my parents assumed (stole?) power of attorney over her estate.) Ah, three sweet more days to go before I am released from the tractor beam of my father's glare, and while I wistfully dream of my return to NYC, I will mentally tabulate the gifts I didn't get, the gifts I will be returning, and the gift that is Margaret - the hot friend (lover?) my cousin showed up with this year. Guest Editor Chris Gage is here all week and next. Private shows available upon request. Krucoff.com's "The Other Page" powered by Removable Hype. The information contained in this web site is subject to change without objection. Copyright © 2003 La Otra Página, Inc. All nights observed. |
