Jan. 02, 2014 - 11:50 a.m.

Hercules

Christmas is over and I didn't get the pony. Again. I really had my hopes up this year, too. But I guess the pile of manure in the kitchen was from Casey the Wonder Corgi or NewWifey(tm), not the present they were trying to hide. I can't believe they fooled me with that again.

I still had a blast on Christmas though, horse or no horse. It's the greatest secular holiday of the year, and I really wallow in it. Every now and then some annoying religious overtones creep in around the edges, but for the most part they're easy to ignore and rarely detract from the True Meaning of the day: PRESENTS!

And I really did get some great gifts. I got a Rainbow Loom and slot cars and a Backstreet Boys "Best Of" cd and a candy cane and lots of alcohol and a bunch of beads for my raver candy (PLUR, y'all!).

The only thing that was a letdown, believe it or not, was the food. Actually the food itself was great. It's just that there was no one here to eat it.

I've written before - just last month in fact - that for the past several years I've requested Thanksgiving off from work, had the request granted, then a day or two before Thanksgiving been told I had to work anyway. That's the way it is in radio, and I accepted it a long time ago. But when it happens on Thanksgiving, and we've invited lots of people over for a feast, it causes NewWifey(tm) to curse my very name and the day I was born. Because SHE has to cook the feast then, and that's not something she suffers gladly. She just suffers.

The guests aren't happy when that happens, either. Instead of sitting down to a whirlwind of E-ticket culinary magic whipped up by their Italian host, they get...a meal made by an Irishwoman.

So this year when it happened again I was resolved to repair the damage. When my boss assured me - assured me - I would definitely positively absofuckinglutely be off on Christmas Day, I called back all the people who'd been at our Thanksgiving table, along with several more who'd been shafted in previous years, and invited them to a real, no-kidding-this-time Dangerspouse generated fiesta on Christmas. They all accepted.

For days before Christmas I scoured stores and shops for rare and wondrous ingredients needed to make a truly memorable meal. I tracked down a free-range spotted owl, a full saddle of manatee, two great auks (long thought extinct) and a chicken.

Ok, actually I just got a leg of lamb, a turkey, stuff to make lasagne, and a bunch of sides and dessert ingredients. But that doesn't sound as impressive. Still, I worked my butt off to make sure all the dishes came out perfect. I wore all the hats from garde manger to p�tissier, and by service every surface in our dining room was covered with some amazing dish or other. All the wines were lined up on the sideboard, and all the glasses were spit-shined by Casey the Wonder Corgi. Our guests were in for a real treat.

Except...there were no guests.

No one showed up.

Not one.

Well actually, one did show up. Our physician, my little old lady golf partner and video game buddy who shows up at Dangerhouse at least twice a week for dinner anyway. What happened to the others? Well, one of them was inconsiderate enough to let her father die on Christmas Eve. She and her husband both decided to mourn instead of eat. Another got called in to work at 5am Christmas morning when the warehouse where he's a supervisor began flooding after a water main burst under the facility. (He was still there the next day when we called.) Two people came down with the flu, and their respective spouses refused to go stag. Another had a hangnail or something, and on and on and on, until only Doc was left.

So me and NewWifey(tm) and Doc and Casey the WonderCorgi all sat around a table set for 12 and spent the next several hours yelling at each other across the vast expanses of meat and pastries while getting progressively drunker on 9 bottles of wine. After dinner we got up a riotous Mario Kart tournament (which I won, of course), but Doc decided to leave before the traditional Christmas orgy started. Unfortunately, so did NewWifey(tm). That left me and Casey...who decided to scoot also at the last minute. "Man's best friend" my ass.

And that was our Christmas. I would have written about it sooner, but right afterwards I came down with the Creeping Crud and it's tough to type when you're coughing blood all over the keyboard. But I'm better now, so things should start getting back on track soon.

That is, if we don't all perish in "Winter Storm Hercules". "Hercules"? Seriously? C'mon. I'm in the media and even I'M sick of the hype. It's a freakin' snow storm. In the winter. In the northern hemisphere. What next, "Spring Shower 'Buffy' is about to slam into the area!"?

Ok, gotta get back to finishing off the Christmas leftovers. There's still half a manatee left.

Duck and cover, kids. Ciao!

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