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  HOLIDAY SEASONS
    by Jim Rosenberg
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    It's the holiday season. For us, that means a reunion of 
  Barbara's clan: The Family that Hotels Forgot." It has taken 
  several years for me to become comfortable with these get-
  togethers, during which we all sleep together in a single cramped 
  house like Bob, Carol, Ted & Alice, only with no sex. 
  
    My own blood family, God love 'em, knows the value of a quiet 
  building with bellhops and maids -- an oasis which is only a breezy 
  excuse away (we'd better be getting back to the hotel -- you know 
  how pumpkin pie revvs your father's engine.") Including children, 
  there will be *24* of us going off to Alabama for the holidays and, 
  despite my genuine affection for the group, I have considered 
  jumping out of the plane on the way and spending Christmas with 
  Ned Beatty's squealing partner from Deliverance.
  
    Shortly after our marriage, Barbara and I spent Christmas in 
  Raleigh with my brother's family. This was Barbara's first 
  disastrous encounter with love, Rosenberg style. We were one of 
  about three guests at the North Raleigh Days Inn, where I slept 
  like a baby and Barbara stayed up all night sobbing quietly over 
  the lonely, soulless life she'd wound up with when she chose me 
  as her mate. To me, it was the perfect holiday. 
  
    At night, we had the option of noisy marital relations, any 
  further details being none of your business. In the morning, we 
  slept late on our fluffy pillows until the maids came, then had a 
  nice hot breakfast. Over at my brother's, we would have slept in 
  the bumpy plastic molding of Barbie's Funtime Playhouse, only with 
  absolutely no funtime if you catch my drift. In the morning we 
  would have risen with the kids at the crack of dawn to a breakfast 
  consisting of cold Fruit Loops and all the migraine pills you can 
  eat. I rested my case, but Barbara was not weakening a bit.
  
    In the past six years, as unlikely as it seems, I've done a 
  complete flip-flop. I now actually look forward to sleeping 
  crammed nine to a bed, with some Demarest's toe up my nose. For 
  one thing, all those cousins give my own wild boys a much needed 
  jolt to their cockiness . . .  
  
    Then, there is Barbara's father: Tool Man -- a God-like hero 
  to my David ("If he comes, he will build it"). One visit with 
  Granddaddy gives David a booster shot of handyman work which 
  immunizes him for another year -- from my incompetence. Perhaps 
  most importantly, the utter chaos of the event relieves the typical 
  holiday pressure. There is no time or space to put on airs, because 
  you've got to make sure your child isn't choking someone else's 
  child. Not that anyone would notice for a few weeks, but it's still 
  the polite thing to do.
  
    Now, I pity *everyone else* -- flying off to edgy, tension-packed 
  family holidays. For them, I have collected some of my favorite 
  holiday recipes and traditions which I hope will add joy to the 
  season and serve to reduce the tremendous stress.
  
  [ ] = permissible substitutions
  
  "Bumpkin Pie"
  RV-load of rural relatives
  10 fifths of Jack Daniels
  10 cases Old Milwaukee
  Crab dip
  New carpet
  Mix until spews
  
  "Braised Feelings"
  Nervous daughter [daughter-in-law]
  10 pounds extra fat
  1 cracked mother [mother-in-law]
  Mix together and stew
  
  "Black Sheep Pie"
  1 black sheep
  Hopes (dashed)
  Feelings (bitter)
  Heat until boiling
  
  "Whine Spritzer"
  2 or more siblings [friends]
  2 parents
  1 lifetime of missed opportunities
  Mix ingredients together in big room. Add whine.
  
  "Family Outing Picnic"
  Gay sibling
  Conservative parents
  Longtime companion
  Cover feelings and simmer for lifetime. Do not overcook.
  
  "Big Hair Centerpiece"
  Cosmetologist-trainee [sister]
  Dyed blonde hair
  Fluff with fork
  
  "Couch Potato Pie"
  19 bowl games
  1 large rump
  Stuff with food
  Let sit
  
    
    HAPPY HOLIDAYS and have a VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR, from me to you. 
    If you are so inclined, please e-mail me a fruit log.
  
                                 (DREAM)
  
  Copyright 1996 Jim Rosenberg, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.                             
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  By day, Jim Rosenberg works in the insurance industry keeping his
  sense of humor on leash. By night, he lets it run wild and free as
  the humor columnist for TRIADstyle, a weekly publication affiliated
  with the News & Record in Greensboro, NC. Jim can be reached via the
  Internet at: abco100@nr.infi.net
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