This year, instead of a tree, we decorated Max’s beloved pole lamp. He calls the result a “3-way collision between Festivus austerity, Xmas kitsch, and midcentury modernism.” I call it, “We can take all that down on the 1st, right?” Christmas Day was an intimate and jolly affair. Joseph brought his cornbread-sausage-fennel stuffing and his chocolate bourbon pecan pie. . . .
Rosie Schaap’s Great Big Lump of Coal party for her good words @ Good World series was great fun. After the reading, she told Dana, Max, and me a story involving the best and maybe the most inappropriate holiday toast ever. I’m not allowed to post that one. Instead here’s an Xmas excerpt from Schaap’s forthcoming Drinking with Men. If . . .
A few weeks ago, I put out a call for your worst holiday experiences. My friend Brent of Titivil disqualified himself because his entry (below) was longer than I’d specified. He wins anyway. It’s a moving, atmospheric story, and also, he’s the only one who entered. Terrible holiday story? It was Thanksgiving Day two years ago. I was a . . .
“Since I’ve come out of my cancer, I must say I intend to be even more of a pain in the arse.” R.I.P., Harold Pinter.