Here come the holidays. I hate the fucking holidays. But I’m glad to be home in time for turkey. Sure I have to make it. Who else? My wife doesn’t get the whole turkey thing. She wants to make spaghetti. My son is coming over. The other one is still sleeping. That kid keeps some strange hours. But what can I do? There’s no way to punish him. He’s too big. Besides, his grades aren’t bad.
I get depressed during the holidays. And I have a lot of things to be depressed about. Sure, I have enough to eat. But this is fast food. I want to eat life, and who gets enough of that, especially when the economy is bad? Fuck gas. Have you checked out the price of cigarettes? But they make sure everybody can buy a turkey. I went all the way - free range, organic, kosher. I’m not Jewish, but those extra rules can’t hurt, especially considering where I've just been.
I had a great trip. Everybody over there couldn’t figure out why I left in the middle of the week to go back home and eat turkey. They hate turkey. But you ought to see what they eat when they run home. They’re crazy to get back and worship whatever moon, so they can blame the parents, push each other around, and generally share the love. They eat hairy crabs in Hangzhou.
I’ll spend my last dime on a plane ticket, that’s for sure. I was worried that the airports would be crowded just before the holiday, but they were empty. Over there, there were more security people than people. Over here, it looked like a lot of illegal aliens got jobs and uniforms over at Immigration. That’s the best thing we have going for us on the approach to America. Otherwise, we’re left with the road to NY for a first impression. My friend from Korea asked me if the BQE was the regular road or the back road. He said ‘third world’ and New York in the same sentence. But it didn’t look too bad last night, with all the lights on.
I’m not sure if I can get through today without crying. More than likely, I’ll start yelling. I pity my sons, not to mention my wife. You’d think I could control it. The problem is, I think so too. I start by being in a good mood, full of love and happiness. But the next thing I know, somebody is all fed up. Fuck it. Fuck all of you, I start shouting. And then it’s all my fault, and everybody hates me. I should eat early and take a nap while everybody else is having dinner. There would just be a leg missing and everybody would be happy. Or maybe they’d complain that they were short-changed.
