The most wonderful time of the year?

So, on my way to work, battling breezy snowdrifts and snowflakes the size of extra large Frosted Flakes, I was thinking about Christmas.

Then I started thinking about Holidays. Then I started thinking about the best holiday.

Then I started thinking about my mom.

Last week, we were talking about holidays and she said, "Seems weird don't it?"

"What," I asked my mom.

"Thanksgiving."

"Never thought about it," I said.

"Well, it's just funny that everyone in the entire United States bought into this, this, this weird holiday where you buy a turkey, bake it and eat it on a specific day."

After thinking about it, I said, "Yeah, that is weird."

"What if we just told them to fuck off," my mom blurted out.

"Who?"

"The people that create these stupid holidays."

I found myself nodding to my mom in agreement, like she was delivering a sermon to hundreds of thousands of listeners at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington DC.

"Yeah," I screamed.

You know, mom is right. Holidays are weird. But, just like pooping on the toilet or eating lunch or watching TV or riding a bike - a lot of things humans do are pretty weird.

But, after mulling over the different holidays and thinking about which holiday is the best, I may have to go with two options - Fourth of July and Memorial Day.

Memorial Day kicks off the great weather in Ohio. Memorial Day is the official crack of the gun to start the race of warmness to Northeast Ohio. Plus, you know damn well you're going to be drunk at least one of the three vacation days.

Fourth of July is awesome for a number reasons. First, it's right smack dab in the middle of summer, lots of parties, lots of drinking, lots of friendly get togethers and people blowing the shit out of stuff.
Also, it's two days before my birthday, and on the opposite side of the spectrum on the calendar than Christmas.

Not sure that consitutes a good holiday. But, there's very little that needs to be done to enjoy these two great holidays.

Except for copious amounts of drinking.

No Christmas Gifts For You!

I was a man of my word. I didn't buy anyone over 18 years of age a single gift this year.

Sure I bought my nieces, nephews and two kids some Christmas cheer. But that was it.

And guess what? Nobody's pissed off. In fact, I think people are actually happy that they didn't have to buy me anything either.

And just like Kramer shunning boxers and underwear for nothing under his pants, I'm loving every minute of it.

This holiday season, I had a blast roaming through the aisles of Target, Home Depot, WalMart and Barnes & Noble stress-free. I didn't have to search the CD aisles looking for Celine Dion's Greatest Hits for my sister-in-law or L.L. Cool J's debut album Radio for my brother.

Did I buy my aunt Chicken Soup for the Soul last year? Does my dad need another box of assorted flashlights? Does Mom really need another sweatshirt emblazoned with Ohio State Mom?

Who fucking cares!

Hard to believe, but I got my wife-to-be wrapped up in the no-holiday-gift-buying frenzy this year. Let me just say, the smile hasn't worn off her face yet. I think she enjoyed focusing strictly on the kids in the family. Hell, I even got a little kick out of hitting the toy stores searching for gifts for the little fuckers.

That was fun.

But buying a Giant Eagle fruitcake for my grandma every single year isn't fun. In fact, I've heard from reliable sources (i.e. my uncle) that grandma cuts off one piece of the fruitcake. Eats it. Than wraps the rest in aluminum foil and hides it deep, down inside the fridge like it was the Lost Ark of the Covenant. Come Springtime the thing probably resembles a Chia-pet.

Look, I know this no-buying-policy may not work for every family. I mean, who wouldn't want an extra screwdriver/socket set or Jerry Garcia tie for Christmas from your great Uncle Pete every single fucking year?

But, for this happy man, I'm going to hang on to this no-gift-over-18-policy for years and years and years to come.

Fuck it, I may even add the policy to birthdays as well. Can't wait to see how many party invitations I'll get after that.

Yep. That's right. Who fucking cares!