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RANT #10 - Holiday Pounding It

My Holidays

I won�t grow up; I don�t wanna go to school.

This has been my mantra for over 40 years. I could add years to that number, but in the early years, I hadn�t grown up, so they don�t count. Almost on a daily basis, something happens in my life to prove I am not just still a child; I�m still a sophomore.

You notice how kids will learn a new phrase and they use it over and over. Sometimes, the phrase is just a new in-appropriate word; other times, the word is part of a fad. These phrases and words will last forever, NOT! Get the idea?

Sometime in the week before the holiday, I heard someone say someone else should �pound it up your ass�. This phrase struck a chord and I have found many opportunities to say it and think it. Driving, I am surrounded by drivers who should take their Halogen head-lighted piece of crap SUV and pound it up their ass. At the Mall, the clerk at Abercrombie & Fitch who says they don�t have t-shirts in 2X, can take the size small t-shirt she�s wearing and pound it up her ..You get the picture?

Reveling in this juvenile attitude, on Thursday I headed to my Brother Tim�s house for Thanksgiving dinner. I am blessed. Blessed by a family that welcomes me into their home on holidays and blessed by brothers who think it is funny when I tell them to pound it up their ass.

Did you gather with your family around the holiday table, say grace and be thankful for the bounty with which we have been blessed? So did we. Did we talk about George Bush�s trip to Iraq? Of course I did and I also said that if the democrats didn�t like it they could just pound it up their�..! Hillary in Afghanistan could pound it�.! John Tesh could take the poor people he was feeding and pound them up�! Thanksgiving is a holiday of excess and the world, supposedly hates us because we have so much. Well, the French can take the Eiffel Tower and�..you know.

Egged on by my brothers and spurred on by the protests of the wives, mothers, and in-laws present, there was no stopping me. Not only was I sophomoric, but I was held back for another year, repeating 10th grade. To tell the truth, any respectable sophomore would have been embarrassed.

At some point, my sister-in-law left to deliver a Thanksgiving dinner to a friend who didn�t have one. My brother Tim was doing dishes and Jerry, my older brother and I were left sitting by ourselves waiting for dessert. After about 45 minutes, Tim brought in three pumpkin pies, freshly whipped cream and one plate and one fork! He proceeded to serve himself and begin eating. Jerry and I exchanged incredulous glances and I commented that this was a particularly Martha Stewart moment. Tim told us he had been doing dishes BY HIMSELF for 45 minutes and Martha, my brother and I could just pound it up our ass.

As you sow�so shall you reap.

I ate three sample size pieces of pumpkin pie and believe it or not, the insatiable maw was satiated. There was room for no more. It was at this moment that Kathy returned and said, �Tim, you forgot the chocolate cake.� One of my favorites. I complained to Tim because I had eaten so much pie, I no longer had room for chocolate cake. Tim left the dining room, returned a moment later with the cake. He plopped it down on the table and said, �Here, you fat fuckers! Pound it up your ass.�

If my sainted Mother hadn�t passed away, this meal would have killed her. Somewhere we went wrong. It is shameful when you realize Adolph Hitler had better table manners.



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