December 26, 2011 The 2007 Christmas Letter

I know some people really look forward to reading this stupid Christmas Letter every year, sorry to disappoint you. There will be no Christmas Letter this year. Let me explain, my mother had her DNA tested and it turns out that we are Jewish. (That explains Georgie’s gift giving over the years) We belong to the Ashkenazi Jewish Mitochondrial Lineage. Therefore welcome to the Inaugural Hanukkah Letter. SHALOM!!!  Oy vey, this letter is always a pain in my tokhes. And this year it is later than usual because Iraq has weapons of mass destruction, global warming is a myth and we have to invade Iran to protect Iraq. Wait, those are someone else’s stupid excuses. My excuse is…drum roll please…for the first time in 20 years I spent Christmas with my family. It’s true. We actually went to California to spend Christmas Eve with my Aunt Pat because she has Christmas at her house for the family. And every year she says “when are you coming for Christmas? I may not be around for many more.” She finally guilted us into visiting. Every year I hear the commotion over the phone, it was wonderful to be in the middle of it. I love family gatherings like this one. Kathy’s daughter, Kelly, sang a spine tingling version of ‘Silent Night’. Hopefully my cousin’s kids will remember Christmas at their Grandma’s as fondly as I remember it at my Grandma’s. Another highlight was lasagna dinner at mom’s house followed by 3 hours of watching old slides with commentary by her three sons. The laughter went on all night. The trip ended with mom hugging goodbye to us in front of her house, then saying as she walked inside “Now I have to put all this Christmas crap away!” By now you must have put away all your Christmas crap too, so pour yourself a drink (alcohol makes this funnier, trust me I’m shitfaced when I write it), relax and following the bouncing ball as we sing along to the past 12 months.

   On New Year’s Day, we met Debbie at her parent’s house. Deb & I have been friends since living across the street from each other since junior high school. We have shared amusing stories about our fathers ever since. It was a nice family get together. Her Greek grandmother, YaYa was telling stories about the old country. Her brother Marty’s kids were well behaved. Then the inevitable happened. While cleaning up the kitchen, Deb threw away the polish sausage appetizers she had left on the counter all day. Her father saw them in the garbage and started yelling “who threw away the sausage!” Deb argued for a moment, and then gave up as he took them out of the garbage and put the sausage in the fridge. I laughed because it wasn’t my dad, Deb got embarrassed because it was her dad. And for those who think I don’t care about kids, on the way out I told Marty’s boys, “next time you come to Grandpa’s don’t eat the polish sausage.” See I do have a heart.

   I went skiing in Utah. It was my first time on a real mountain. Despite a few nasty wipeouts, I had a good time. There were nine of us sharing a condo on the mountain. I skied with Walter & Eric. Rick and his ‘boyquarium’ snowboarded together. Overall it went pretty well. Walter likes to equip himself with all the latest gadgets, so he has a ski helmet with speakers in it and a plug for his I Pod. This leads to conversations on the lift with Walter saying very funny things inappropriately loud causing husbands and/or boyfriends to give us nasty looks. One day we were eating outside at a café on the mountain. The kids working the grill had music playing and we were singing along. After lunch, Eric & I are putting our skis on and Walt is already dressed and heading for the lift yelling “He’s got big balls, she’s got big balls but I’ve got the biggest balls of them all!!” As everyone stopped and stared at my oblivious friend, I realized he wasn’t bragging, he had an AC/DC song playing on his I Pod.

In March I flew to California for my Mom’s 60^th Birthday Party. It was a surprise party but since we held it at her house, I surprised her the day before so we could get the house ready. The party was a good time. I love spending the day partying with family and friends. The next day, it was just my parents and me. Of course this would lead to something strange. But wait, we decide to see the movie “Reign O’er Me” at 2pm. This seems normal. At 1pm ma tells dad to get ready. So I go upstairs to grab some socks & shoes, wash up & take a dump. While on the toilet, I hear the garage door opening and the car starting. I yell “WTF” out the window and my mom yells “let’s go!” I grab socks & shoes, start pulling my pants up run down the stairs out the back door thru the garage and down the alley holding my shoes, trying to put on a sock while holding my unbuttoned pants up. They slowed down enough for me to jump into car thru the back window. When we got to the mall, 10 minutes later, I’m still getting dressed in the car. They jump out and start running (OK, running might be an exaggeration) to the theater. I lose them in the crowd and have to ask a non English speaking groundskeeper where the movie theater is? When I find my parents, it is 1:20pm. They are smoking outside the theater and when I ask what the hell we were rushing for and what are we going to do for the next 40 minutes? My mother says, “We can make fun of you for that toilet paper sticking out of your pants!”

In June, we went to California for my little brother Georgie’s wedding. The trip had many highlights… bringing my Aunt Maryann & Uncle Freddie to the Delgado’s house and finishing 2 bottles of wine before noon…walking around the San Juan Capistrano Mission with my Aunt Nora and realizing through her the religious power a place like that holds…hiking along the tidal pools to the sea caves at Dana Point with my cousin Karen and niece Kristian, nephews Kyle & Kennedy, who could tell me what underwater creatures we were seeing…the rehearsal dinner talking with Marcy’s parents and though she won’t admit it, she is just like her mother…everyone enjoying the “Dysfunctional Family” photo book I made to introduce Marcy to the Ott family…Marcy marrying George anyway...having family together at the wedding…best man Rick’s speech, that is true friendship…drunk groom Georgie causing hotel security to break up the after party in Rick’s room…the party at mom’s the day after the wedding…riding the waves at Newport Beach with Kennedy, Kyle & Kristian while the pelicans dive bombed for fish all around us…drinking wine and watching the Tony Awards at 1am with Mr. Delgado and him saying to me “How gay is this?” After I left for home, Chrissy stayed in Cali. She offered to watch George & Marcy’s cats at their condo while they were in Las Vegas for the honeymoon. I guess Georgie gave her all these crazy instructions about feeding & caring for Mickey & Shady. Chrissy called me to say my brother is nuts. She ignored the instructions, fed and treated the cats like a sane person would and they were fine. As she is yelling at me about my brother not being able to take care of these cats properly she says Mickey & Shady aren’t the only pussies Georgie doesn’t know how to treat right. Chrissy continues (and this is why I love the girl) “He has 6 tubes of Astroglide in the nightstand next to the bed. Maybe I should leave a list of instructions for him.”

In July, I went to NYC to see Coney Island for the last time. Oh, I’ll be going there again, but it will never be the same. A developer has bought most of the land between the Cyclone and the baseball stadium.  He is currently fighting with the city over land use issues. Coney Island has a seedy charm that I have loved since my grandfather took me there as a kid. Nathan’s Famous hot dogs, Gregory & Paul’s food stand on the boardwalk, the greatest coaster in the world, the relentless Cyclone, two and a half minutes of uncontrollable thrills, the old time ‘freak’ shows and the hawkers on microphones trying to convince you to “try your luck”, “bump your ass off” or “shoot the freak”. There just aren’t places like this anymore. It would be a shame if Coney Island joined the long list of beachfront amusement parks that were ‘improved’ by condos and hotels. My cousin Patty and her daughters Karissa & Cori met us in NYC. I spent seven days with four women in New York. We shopped, ate and walked our way through the city. We laughed at Cori doing a Brooklyn accent, we cried at the 9-11 Memorial museum, we enjoyed riding the Cyclone five times with the girls screaming in front of us every time. After seeing Rent, we had a midnight dinner at Junior’s Diner. The girls were all dressed up for our night out. The waiter, Lamar, a very good looking young man, looked around the table at Patty, Chrissy, Cori & Karissa, then turns to me and says “Brother, you must be doing something right.” My week summed up perfectly.

One day, while riding my bike on the single track trails at Sweet Woods Forest Preserve, I spotted an all white deer down by the creek. I circled around to get a closer look and found the albino deer in a clearing with 3 other deer. I was mesmerized by the strangely beautiful animal. Over the years of riding in the woods, I’ve come across hundreds of deer. They usually freeze and stare back then run or they run immediately. While staring at the white deer, I didn’t notice the other three deer form a line and start walking toward me. I swear they were protecting their friend. I thought they would stop but kept coming toward me looking more menacing with each step. As they kept moving toward me, I thought about the commercial where the guy is yelling at a deer that is attacking him, “You’re supposed to be docile!” I started to get nervous. When the 3 deer got within 10 feet; I turned and pedaled away yelling “You’re supposed to be docile!”

Every year for Halloween, Chrissy buys a ton of candy and I hope a bunch of kids will show up. Every year about 10 kids show up. I get so mad that parents won’t let their kids go trick or treating. WARNING: Bitter Old Man story coming up. When I was a kid, our group of 5 or 6 unaccompanied kids used to trick or treat through our neighborhood and several others until the bag got so heavy that we had to accept a ride  from strange men dressed as clowns, priests or mimes just to get our candy home. Then we ate all the candy and guess what…we all lived. So this year I decided to dress up in a costume to spread some Halloween cheer. I put on one of my adult diapers and a chef hat. I was the Pampered Chef. I thought it was funny. Some of the neighborhood moms didn’t. They yelled things like “don’t take any candy from that SOB”, “get the fuck away from my kids you pervert” and “I didn’t see this address on the child molester registration website”. I did have a young black mom from the next block mumble to her friend something like “that crazy white boy could put his meat in my oven”. So it wasn’t all bad. But then the cops showed up and told me to either put on some pants or stop handing out candy. Chrissy says she’ll take off of work next year to hand out the candy.

   In my never ending efforts to add culture to my niece & nephew’s lives, we took Kristian & Kyle to Millennium Park for the Sights & Sounds of the Arctic exhibition. It was advertised by the Chicago Park District as the sounds of the arctic (glacier’s cracking, whale & walrus sounds, etc.) accompanied by a video protesting global warming. It was a chilly November night so we bundled the kids up. We had a big bag of popcorn and left over Halloween candy. The sounds were already playing when we took our seats and waited for it to get dark enough for the movie. It was like a Norman Rockwell painting, a family sitting in an outdoor pavilion with sodas, dipping our hands into a big bag of popcorn, eagerly waiting for the movie to begin. Let’s be honest, if it ended like that, it would never make a newsletter like this. It turns out to be an art film. Not a good art film, the shitty kind we all ridicule. Poorly shot images of the arctic with words of protest written like graffiti on the ice. It got worse; a completely naked pregnant woman is superimposed walking on the ice. I get that she is Mother Earth, but we are in a public park and full frontal nudity of an extremely unattractive and extremely pregnant woman is a bit much. After a scene with some birds & walrus, here comes Mother Earth again & again. I kept saying to Chrissy “Jesus not her again”. When she appeared for the 5^th time, six year old Kristian yells out “Oh my God, How many times?!!!” People around us started laughing and most began leaving. Then Mother Earth appears on her back with her knees up high and I swear to you, I thought they were going to show her giving birth. They didn’t, just a baby crawling on the ice. After the movie, I asked sixteen year old Kyle what he learned from the movie. His reply shows what a positive role model I am. He said, “If you are going to make a shitty movie at least have hot naked women in it to keep people interested.”

   Speaking of hot naked women, over the past few years, my friends Todd & Vicky have repeatedly asked what it takes to get mentioned in this newsletter. Like most people, they send us a Christmas photo card except theirs are different than the others. One had Vicky as Santa’s helper engaging in doggy style sex with Todd dressed as Santa; another had a scantily dressed Vicky playing “Wreath Toss” with a naked Todd. The cards made us laugh so hard and so did Todd’s stories about making the cards. Such as Todd standing in line at Walgreens with the mothers waiting to make photo cards of their precious spawn, when Todd’s pictures appear on the screen to shock the suburban moms. Or Todd telling us what Vicky had to do so the wreath would stay on him long enough for a picture. I always tell Vicky “skin to win”.  I can’t wait for this year’s photo card. 

A week before Christmas, we put down Glacier. He had some health problems that made the decision for us. I wrapped my arms around him in his final moments with tears in my eyes as the vets calmly talked to him as he went down. When it was over he peed all over my foot. I started laughing and crying at the same time. I explained to the vet when I first met him at the Animal Welfare League, he said hello to me by pissing on my foot. So it was a fitting way to say goodbye. I end this now wishing everyone a Happy New Year and a little something I learned from my dog. Always be excited about going outside, right now is a good time for a nap, lying in the grass is the perfect way to spend an afternoon, sniffing someone’s butt is an acceptable greeting  and when life gets too serious…piss on it.  



December 25, 2011 The 2011 Christmas Letter

I guess this can no longer be called our Christmas Letter. I know it is usually late but never this late. It would be easy for me to say it wasn’t a good year. For example Tiguak, the polar bear Chrissy hand raised, died unexpectedly. So it would be true that we had a bad year but that’s not why it is late. Maybe it’s late because I spend so much time watching the hair on my head disappear only to reappear in places that hair isn’t supposed to grow. Maybe it’s late because I’ve become the grouchy old man I always joked I would become. At first, I couldn’t find much to laugh at. Hell my parents visited this year and I could not find anything to write about that either. Eventually I ended up with a newsletter with a new format. So welcome to our 2011 Year in Review from A-Z. As usual we hope you had a Merry Christmas and here’s hoping 2012 is a great year for everyone.

  Aunt Ann is actually Chrissy’s Great Aunt. She is one of my favorite people because she speaks her mind and doesn’t act her age. She also makes me laugh. Here are a few of her memorable quotes. One night she offered to pay her part of the Café Borgia bill with a $50. When I didn’t have change for her $50 bill, she replied “Sorry I only carry fifties.” Another time at Taco Real when I refused to pour her a second margarita she scolded me by saying “I’m 85 years old; you can’t tell me how much I can drink!” I refilled her glass before she started hitting me.  When Ann found out I was doing the eulogy at Don’s funeral she said, “You’d better say something nice. This is the last time you’re gonna see him.” When I asked won’t I see him in heaven eventually, she replied “like I said, this is the last time you’ll see him.” Making it very clear to me which one of us she thought was going to heaven.

   Banff National Park is where Chrissy and I shared a magical moment in our rental car. No we didn’t relive the activities that occurred in my car when we were dating. The car was moving this time. Actually I’m pretty sure the car was also moving a few times when we were dating too. But I am getting off the point. As we drove along the Bow Valley Parkway, a beautiful black wolf slowly crossed the road right in front of us. We were stunned to finally see a wolf that close in the wild. By the time we got the camera he was disappearing over a ridge.

   College visits brought my cousin Katt and her daughters Rose and Michelle to Chicago in June. Michelle who wants to be a stage manager was checking the programs at several colleges in the area. I really enjoyed having them at the house for a week. Their youthful energy, the joy of having your whole life in front of you and that anything is possible attitude was contagious. I look forward to seeing all the incredible things they accomplish in their lives but the house sure seemed empty after they left.

   DJing with my friend Jim has been a blast this year. We are getting paid to talk to drunken hotties and watch them dance. It makes me think that God does smile down on me once in a while. But then he laughs at me. Here’s why. At a wedding in June the guy setting up a photo booth asked me to sit for a picture so he could set the lights. I told Jim to sit with me so I could send the pictures to my mom. The minor problem was my head is huge compared to Jimmy’s. It’s like Barry Bonds on steroids huge, a giant oversized melon. The major problem was throughout the night the monitor outside the photo booth scrolled through the pictures of all the couples at the wedding which meant that we were the gay DJ couple. Thanks God.

   Eulogy.  Chrissy’s parents, Don & Marsha celebrated their 50^th Anniversary in July. We had a party for them at                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Gino’s Steak House. Don was his usual self, enjoying being surrounded by friends and family with a big smile on his face. In September Don was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia. He passed away in his home on October 24^th.  I was told I was doing the eulogy. I needed help to get through it. I don’t remember exactly what I said but I managed to rankle the uptight pastor and please most of the family and friends that attended. I added the eulogy as I meant to say it to the end of this newsletter.

   Fluffy was the sweetest dog we’ve ever had. Most people said she was a sweetheart as soon as they saw her. She had bad fur, a snaggle tooth and a poor excuse of a tail but she was a beautiful dog on the inside. Fluff loved to go hiking. Whenever I said, “You wanna go for a ride?” She would cock her head and lift her ears, when I asked again she would do her happy feet dance and find Glacier or Oslo to let them know. She died at home on May 16^th.  Now when I take Oslo & Roxy hiking…I still miss my favorite hiking partner.

   Glacier National Park – We had quite a few memorable moments in five days of hiking in Glacier. My favorite happened on the Highline Trail which opens into a bowl with a cliff trail about 500 feet above a very scenic valley. It started with a chirping sound from a single golden eagle. All of a sudden there were three eagles soaring on the wind currents just about eye level to us.  They were putting on quite a show. It was hypnotic watching them ride the wind higher and higher without ever flapping their wings. Then dive bombing straight down for no other reason than they appeared to be having fun. Standing on the edge of a three foot wide trail with a 300 foot drop I just kept looking up...circling my head as they flew by...pretending I was up there with them...what an incredible feeling...those 15 minutes will stay with me the rest of my life

   Hockey is an escape from the daily grind for me. It is a chance to hang out with friends, play a game and have a few beers. My hockey team finished tied for first place and then won the championship game in double overtime. The funny thing about it was the actual size replica Stanley Cup that Walter had made out of duct work sheet metal. Even at our ages, it was fun to hoist the Cup over our heads. It’s great to feel like a kid every so often.

   Iceberg Lake – We hiked out to Iceberg Lake in Glacier NP as a storm blew over the mountains. We saw bighorn sheep and moose along the way. But the real reason we hiked 10 miles in the rain was to spread the ashes of our dogs Glacier and Fluffy at the unbelievably scenic glacial lake. There were still icebergs floating across the icy blue water surrounded by 3000 foot vertical walls. This was the perfect final resting spot for these two longtime friends.

   Jasper National Park – We hadn’t seen many animals on our trip so far. So when Chrissy spotted moose in Medicine Lake, we hiked a mile downhill through a forty degree down pour to get closer for photos. Because a moose bluff charged me in the Grand Tetons, I hid behind giant rocks about 50 yards from two moose grazing in the shallow lake. I tried to take pictures but the rain was relentless. We headed back to the car, frozen and drenched. The last section was a steep muddy incline that had me taking one step up, sliding three steps backwards. Finally back in the car, I agreed it was worth all the trouble to see some animals. Less than five minutes down the road, a herd of 15 Rocky Mountain sheep were blocking the road. For 20 minutes we had animals surrounding our car and we took some great pictures. Now the hike to see the moose seemed a bit unnecessary.   

   Kootenay National Park – I love heading out into the wilderness but there is always a little underlying fear in me. I feel safer working in Chicago’s worst neighborhoods because I am familiar with them. The wilderness has that scary sense of the unknown. So what happens at our first stop in the Canadian Rockies? As we step out of our car at Sinclair Canyon in Kootenay NP, there is a half-eaten mountain goat leg in the parking lot. Now I head into the wilderness through the heavy fog with that image in my head. It’s going to be a fun, if slightly scary day.

   Lollapalooza – I saw some great performances this year. Bright Eyes impassioned set, My Morning Jacket absolutely amazed me, Flogging Molly were just as great on the huge main stage as they are in the small clubs and the Foo Fighters playing through a stormy downpour. But what I will remember most from Lolla this year was the mud. On Sunday three different storms ripped through Grant Park. The mud was ankle deep by midafternoon. Instead of being pissed off, the kids just embraced the situation and enjoyed it. That made this old man do the same. Now I’ll admit I wasn’t about to do sliding belly flops in the mud puddles mixed with goose shit but I did roll up my pants and dance in it. Trying to beat the heat is my biggest problem at Lolla. Let’s face it; no one wants to see my fat ass shirtless while enjoying their favorite band. So I came up with a solution while checking out the thousands of hotties wearing the light weight sun dresses. Why not? They look so comfortable. They provide plenty of cool air across the shoulders and definitely provide fresh air from the bottom. Damn, I only wish it was socially acceptable for men to wear one. But if it is 95 degrees next summer. Look for me at Lollapalooza in one.

   Mountain Biking – The good news…no mountain biking trips ended with surgery this year. But one trip ended with me covered in horse shit and another ended with me getting sexually assaulted by a deer according to my brother in law. Kimmie & I went riding early during our very rainy spring. After riding the single track trails at Sweet Woods and Brownell, we decided to try the horse trail through Jurgesen Woods. Big mistake! The trail was very muddy and rutted by horse hoof prints, riding was nearly impossible but when I did the mud / horseshit mix was thrown up & over my back. My knees down were covered in the same mix from walking my bike. I had to hose myself off before going into the house. On a solo ride at Brownell, I managed to knock myself out when riding over a downed tree. I realized too late that I didn’t have enough speed so I put my right foot down. Big mistake! There was a ravine on that side and I fell down it. The last thing I remember was hitting the ground head first. Here’s my version of what happened. I awoke when I heard a twig snap and a deer was standing about 20’ from me. My brother in law, Keny’s version is the same except I woke up to find a deer was humping me. After Chrissy decided she liked Keny’s version better, I asked her how long would I have to be missing before she decided to come looking for me. She quickly replied, “Three days!”

   National Parks – We took a trip to six national parks this year. Glacier in the States. Waterton, Banff, Jasper, Kootenay and Yoho in Canada. Christy & I love spending time in any National Park and recommend that everyone take advantage of these beautiful areas whenever possible. If you would like to see my pictures from this trip, check out my blog for late September into early October.  http://doeshestillshitinhispants.blogspot.com 

   Oslo – Our 5 year old, 125 lb, male dog continues to provide us with goofy antics that always make us laugh. This year he has begun howling at the sirens in the neighborhood. He mimics the sound after each blast with a long lone wolf howl. He also has a new favorite spot, the narrow settee in the second floor front window. He spends all day lying on the pillows surveying the neighborhood from his new lookout spot. But my favorite moment with him happened in Lake Michigan. There were 5 foot waves and a park ranger was walking the beach to keep people out of the water. In I go with Oslo jumping the waves and Roxie stays more cautiously behind us. I tell the ranger I'm just letting them drink. All of a sudden one of the bigger waves catches Oslo and carries him right past me toward the shore...I see him dog paddling and start to laugh...then I realize I better let go of his leash or I'm gonna pull him backwards into the surf. When he finally lands in shallow water...he looks completely freaked out and turns to look at me with a goofy WTF just happened expression on his face. I'm laughing so hard I just fall into the water and hug him. I was so proud and happy for him...my dog just bodysurfed a wave...one of my favorite things to do in life.

   Protest – We took part in an Occupy Wall Street protest at 6^th Ave & Canal St in December because I believe there are injustices that need to be addressed in this country. I also believe that questioning your government is a patriotic thing to do. It is the founding principle of this country. So I will continue to fight the willful ignorance that is ruining our country.

   The Quote of the Year comes from my soon to be former friend, Adam Balcazar. While talking to me on one of our frequent phone calls he said “you are an atom bomb of negativity.” Now I should have been pissed but upon thoughtful inward reflection I had to agree with him. Then I congratulated him on such a great description of me. It is probably too late to change my bitter old man ways, which reminds me of another great quote “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks”. So I guess I’ll just keep pissing on the carpet.

   My Top Five Records of 2011 - #1 Nothing Is Wrong by Dawes. #2 Circuital by My Morning Jacket #3 England Keep My Bones by Frank Turner. #4 Whole Love by Wilco #5 Peoples Key by Bright Eyes

   Sex Museum – While Christmas shopping in NYC on Fifth Avenue, we (probably just me) decided to stop at the Oral Fixation Bar at the Museum of Sex. After finishing off an Aphrodisiac Martini, Chrissy announced that she was no closer to having sex with me than before the drink. So I asked, “How much alcohol would it take?” She said more than this bar has in stock. The bartender shook his head, said “sorry brother” and walked away laughing.

   Trees for You & Me – The charity fundraiser that Chrissy helped start has become one of Polar Bears International’s main programs. If you would like to donate to help polar bears by planting trees in the Polar Bear Forest in Wisconsin, Check out the website at http://www.polarbearsinternational.org/programs/trees-you-and-me-model-nation. You can choose your local AAZK or support Brookfield Zoo’s chapter for Chrissy.

   Unwind – The whole point of our trip to the Rockies was to escape. Relax. Unwind. One day in Glacier NP we drove 30 miles along a sometimes paved, mostly dirt road to the off the grid town of Polebridge where we grabbed lunch at the Mercantile. Several miles down a dirt road that made the previous road seem smooth; we ended up at Bowman Lake. We passed 5 bear warning signs on the hike to the lake but it was a beautiful fall day so we settled on the shoreline and enjoyed amazing huckleberry bear claws and a local Flathead Lake Monster black raspberry soda.

Relaxing out here is a different kind of relaxing. The scenery, the fresh air, the incredible fall colors and the unseasonably warm temperatures all contributed to being so relaxed that it was possible to fall asleep even though there are bear warnings everywhere you look. Now that kind of relaxation was well worth ruining the suspension on our rental car.

   Vandalism – Yes we were victims of a heinous crime this year. We have a bumper sticker on our Equinox that reads “My Great Pyrenees is Smarter than your Honor Student”. A misguided deviant drew a very artistic steaming pile of dog shit behind the picture of a Pyr. I still laugh every time I look at it.

   Waterton NP – The first stop on our Canadian Rockies trip. I have repeatedly told Chrissy that I needed this vacation more than any I’ve taken due to the crazy amount of hours I’ve been working this year. After a beautiful day of hiking at Red Rocks Canyon, Blakiston Falls and Crandell Lake, I received a message from God. Don’t laugh, this message came in the form of a t-shirt that read “Waterton – Good for the Soul”. I had to buy the shirt, how often does God send you a message.

   Xmas in NYC – I need to visit New York City like a junkie needs heroin. The energy of that city rejuvenates me. I love the feeling I get from being in NYC. This trip included shopping at pop up holiday fairs at Bryant Park, Brooklyn Flea, Columbus Circle, Union Square Park, Chelsea Market and Craft at the Canal in Gowanus. We also took part in a Vintage Subway Train Swing Dance Party, joined an Occupy Wall Street demonstration at 6^th & Canal St. and visited the 9-11 Memorial at the Trade Center site. But the real reason I love this city occurred on Court Street in the Italian section of Carroll Gardens in Brooklyn. In the span of 15 minutes and three city blocks, I stopped at four family owned bakeries…bought pignolis at Monteleone Bakery, old fashioned round Italian bread at Caputo’s Bakery, Italian cookies at Court Pastry and fancy pastries at Sweet Melissa Patisserie.

   Yoho NP – My personal challenge. The Iceline Trail. Four miles to the summit. 2300’ elevation gain. The first part is hiking through a forest straight up the mountain. At first I had to rest at each switchback, then halfway up each switchback. Whenever I stopped I had steam rising off of me from sweat and I was doubled over trying to force as much oxygen into my body as humanly possible. I was damn proud I made it above the tree line. But as I huffed and puffed my way up, I'm not too proud to admit lots of people passed me with relative ease. As I headed toward the summit my brain eventually listened to my body and decided to turn around. First I ate my lunch with a beautiful view of Yoho Valley. I was feeling proud of myself but that quickly disappeared. First I drove pass a couple much older than me who were riding their bicycles up the incredibly steep Yoho Valley Road. Then back at the hotel while I am getting undressed to take a shower, Chrissy starts laughing uncontrollably. She manages to blurt out “you got lint in your butt crack!” So much for hiking up a mountain, this day will forever be remembered as butt lint day.

   Zookeeper Christy – Chrissy wouldn’t even write this part of the newsletter. So here’s what I know about her year. She is still taking classes for her master’s degree in zoology. She still does speaking engagements for PBI about climate change and polar bears. She still hates living with me. She still works at Brookfield Zoo. She still hates tour buses full of Japanese people. This hatred started in Rome years ago and continued through our Canadian Rockies trip this year. But this year she got even. Here’s how. Chrissy still farts a lot. I fart a lot but she is worse. And on our hiking trips its worse, probably due to eating trail mix and granola bars all day. So when the extremely rude busload of Japanese tourists descended onto the deck overlooking Peyto Lake in Banff NP, Chrissy pushed her way into the middle of the camera toting mob. Then she detonated her nuclear bomb farts. I swear there were Japanese people running in every direction, it looked like Tokyo being attacked by Godzilla.

Since there was no mention of me anywhere in this extremely long and quite frankly boring newsletter, let me wish everyone a very happy new year. Love & Peace, Roxie, the other Great Pyrenees in the house.



December 24, 2011 Christmas Eve at Cindy Lou's

 Before we head out to spend Christmas Eve at the recently rebuilt home of our flowergirl Cindy Lou...

 ...we gave the dogs a Christmas treat.

 Here's the main table at Cindy's house.

 Chrissy could wait any longer, so she started eating before everyone else.

 I decided to hang out with the kids...this is Susie's camera shy girl, Grace.

 I let the kids take pictures so here are a few of the better ones...Jimmy playing video games.

 Me wearing a Packers hat. This should dispel the nasty reputation I have for hating kids. I let the one that put this fucking hat on me live...that should count for something.

 Scottie clowning around.

 Grace suddenly less camera shy.

 Audrey clowning around for the camera.

 Here's Susie with one empty bottle, one full bottle and a margarita. Looks like her Christmas wishes already came true.

 After an amazing dinner cooked by Cindy, Mark and Eric (pictured here), Eric had to answer cooking questions from the rest of us. He never should have told us he was a chef.

 Scottie relaxing after the big meal.

 Here's our camera friendly hostess, Cindy Lou enjoying a glass of wine while her sister and sister-in-law are doing the dishes.

 The kids finally got all the adults into the living room so we could begin opening the gifts.

 Sure these two pictures are alike, I couldn't decide which one was better so I posted both of them.

 Simon relaxing with his new BFF, Bernie.

Audrey thanking her Aunt Cindy for her presents.



December 23, 2011 The 2006 Christmas Letter

   Let’s start at the beginning, New Year’s Eve. The biggest party & best DJ gig of the year, I’m counting down to midnight. 4, 3, 2 , 1 Happy New Year!!!! A bunch of drunken hotties giving me New Year’s Eve kisses. NO!!!!! WHY NOT? Because I’m only pretending that it is midnight. It is only 9pm and I’m DJing at an outdoor ice rink freezing my ass off. I’m surrounded by the loser kids who couldn’t score some beer or pot and fat suburban housewives with their henpecked husbands asking me why I won’t play some stupid song from the movie “Madagascar” for their snot nosed kids. Just so you don’t think that I am a lost cause. I did smile when my niece Kristian gave me a big New Years hug & kiss when I was skating around the rink with her while my nephew Kyle filled in as DJ for me. Since the first day was so exciting, how could the remaining 364 possibly maintain that level? Unfortunately, most didn’t. A few days are worth mentioning so I did in this letter. I try to keep this little letter amusing each year while updating everyone on our lives. It gets harder every year. Chrissy says it’s the only thing about me that gets harder each year. I could gloat about the Republican’s getting the beat down they so richly deserved, but my ass will hurt for years from the fucking they gave all of us for the past 6 years…and I’m not even a congressional page nor do I associate with evangelical leaders. HEY, QUIT COMPLAINING!!! Did you really expect me to mellow with age?   

KRISTIAN

   Even though I live in the suburbs, I despise every aspect of them. The strip malls, chain stores, the lack of any creativity and individuality, the soul sucking blandness & the insistence on conformity are just a few of my complaints. I want my niece to know there are other options. My mom says I like Kristian the best because I always tell stories about her. Well, maybe that’s true because here are two more stories about the ‘little girl next door’. Chrissy was babysitting Kristian one day and played the movie “Rent” for her. She loved it. She took it home to watch it repeatedly. I made her a CD of the Broadway soundtrack. She would sing and dance to all the songs. Her favorite is the gay transvestite “Angel”. I was so proud to see my five year old niece singing songs about artists, gay & straight lovers and heroin. As luck would have it, the touring production of Rent came to Chicago, so I decided to take Kristian. She was nervous about going to the play, so Kyle went along too. As soon as we got in the car I put on the Rent CD. She starts singing along…no longer nervous. I had heard that Jonathan Larson who wrote Rent insisted that the first 2 rows only be sold day of the show. So at the box office window I am given seats in the second row. I asked the guy if Kristian would be able to see the stage from that close since I never sat that close myself. He said no problem. Then a supervisor came to the window and said “this play isn’t appropriate for a little kid”. I assured him I was familiar with the play and it was fine with me that she sees it. He shook his head and continued to protest (he must live in the ‘burbs). I shut him up by saying “you sell the fucking tickets, I’ll raise the kid!” While checking our coats Kristian got all excited because she saw Angel, it was a transvestite dressed as Angel who ended up sitting in front of us. Our seats were amazing, spoiled kid, first play and she gets 2^nd row, I told her Aunt Chrissy was going to be very jealous. Kristian loved the play, sang along to the songs and told me that Angel is a man who dresses like a woman but likes other men. There is hope that she will overcome a repressive suburban upbringing. One night we took Kristian to Café Borgia for dinner. Even though it’s an Italian restaurant, all the waiters are Mexican. I try to teach the kid something whenever I spend time with her, this night it was family heritage. I was explaining that I am Italian, Irish & German and that Chrissy is Lithuanian, Romanian, German & Polish. Since her mom is Chrissy’s sister that makes Kristian Lithuanian, Romanian (I might have said gypsy instead), German & Polish. She had trouble grasping the relationships but it was slowly sinking in as I kept explaining it. I thought she had it until I said that she was also Mexican. She thought for a moment then yells “I’M NOT MEXICAN!!! MY DAD IS”!!! The waiters all stop and turn toward us and began to laugh. She repeated it several times before I gave up and finished my penne porcini.

CALIFORNIA

   In March we went to Cali for my Aunt Pat & Uncle Ed’s 50^th Anniversary party. Fifty years, now I’ve joked it seems like I’ve been married for 50 years, but that won’t be true until 2038. Let me simplify this as only I can, THAT’S A FUCKING LONG TIME!!!! Rumor has it that fifty years ago, Ed & Pat were on a date and Ed dropped his keys, as he knelt down to pick them up, Pat said “I DO”. We had a great time with my cousins and brothers. Since it rarely happens that we are all together, these times are very special to me. At the party a photographer came around to take pictures of each couple. The way we were seated, he thought Jeff was with Geo’s girlfriend, Marcy. At first we were going to move but decided to just go with it. That left Georgie with Chrissy and Jen with me. When she realized this she said “Wait, I get Gregg?!!!” with joking disgust in her voice. This started an argument among the girls about which Ott boy was the worst. Each defended (that may be too strong a word for what actually happened) her man somewhat and gave reasons why the others were the worst. Chrissy & Marcy thought Jeff was the most annoying, which stunned Jen and me. I thought Chrissy would have voted Georgie most annoying. Then all three girls agreed that my mom married the worst Ott boy. We were supposed to go to Mexico with the Delgado’s, but that got canceled at the last minute. Now Chrissy had to decide…spend 10 straight days with my parents or go somewhere…anywhere…she decided Death Valley was a better option. We had a great time there; we hiked through several canyons, across the salt fields and up the mountains for 3 days. Death Valley is an amazing place to visit. We decided to drive to Joshua Tree National Park afterwards. As we drove across the Mojave Desert, our cell phone got a signal again…we had 3 messages. The first was my mom checking in with us. How’s Death Valley? Call me. The next was mom again a little worried. Your hotel said you never checked in. Where are you? Call me! Guess who left the third message? Gregg, call me back right away. Your father says he isn’t driving out to the god damn desert to find your fucking ass. Where are you?!!! Chrissy was laughing her ass off as she listened to the messages. She wanted to let my mom worry about us. I said we’d better call before some park ranger or state trooper finds us and says to call your mom because she is driving them crazy. I don’t want to pile on an old lady nearing her dotage but, whenever Chrissy & I visit her, she writes HI GREGG & CHRISTY on a little message board on the kitchen counter…when Jeff & Jen were coming out, she took the day off of work, hung a WELCOME JEFF & JEN banner across the garage and was so excited at the airport that she ran up to some guy she thought was Jeff and was hugging the poor bastard who had no idea what was happening. She didn’t let go of him until I pointed to her actual son walking toward her through the crowd. Chrissy had to pick me up off the floor I was laughing so hard.

NEW YORK CITY

   We met my mom in NYC in June. We all stayed at my Aunt Maryann & Uncle Freddie’s. One day we took a trip to the Brooklyn neighborhood where they grew up. We stopped at Our Lady of Lourdes School, Marion Street (where the Otts & Valentinos lived), Bushwick Ave & Chauncey St. (where my mom lived). On Chauncey St., I took pictures of my mom on her old stoop. You could smell marijuana coming from an apartment in the building. Then some guy in a window across the street yelled “are you buying that building”? My mom said “no, I used to live here”. To which he replied shockingly “you used to live here”? Let’s just say white folks haven’t been seen around there since the 1960’s. We took my mom on a Circle Tour around Manhattan. While on line she bought a Styrofoam Statue of Liberty crown, which she insisted on wearing. Tourist!!! While waiting on the boat at the docks, another boat was loading for what appeared to be a private Father’s Day party. We watched several hundred African-Americans dressed to impress board the boat. It’s not that the outfits were ghetto, let’s just say white people couldn’t or wouldn’t wear most of the outfits we saw. They all brought food & bottles of booze with them. When the DJ kicked in with the old school R&B mixed with sweet soul music, Chrissy & I wanted to switch boats, but no way would they allow us on that boat with my mom wearing that goofy spiked crown. Years ago, Chrissy gave my mom a cloth doll dressed as a nurse. It’s a frumpy little doll that makes you laugh whenever you look at it. She is called Nurse Doll. Clever. My mom kept her at work on her desk. Over the years, her co-workers posed Nurse Doll for all kinds of compromising pictures. Nurse Doll made the trip to NYC. We took nurse doll everywhere, Museum of Natural History, Central Park, Coney Island, Lower East Side, Times Square & the Circle Line cruise. Lots of people laughed at Nurse Doll or maybe at us as we posed her all around the city. I made a music video of Nurse Doll’s trip. You can see the video at www.georgeott.com.

   American Idol. Admit it, you have watched it. Anyway, early in the show, Taylor Hicks became a fan favorite. He looked 45 years old but was actually 28. My friends, Jim & Chrissy, were the first to say I looked like Taylor. Then Chrissy’s friends at work told her that I looked like him. I didn’t think so. Well this dopey looking white guy with no soul and no dance moves (does kind of sound like me) ends up winning. Great! Now I hear I look like him more often; while shopping for a suit, djing at weddings, etc. I still don’t see it. While in NYC, I was paying at the window of a parking garage in Long Island City. The attendant, a young black man from some Caribbean island, just stares at me. I thought he couldn’t speak English. Then he comes out of the booth and stammers, “you, you’re from American Idol”. Chrissy is laughing so hard she probably wet herself, my mom & Aunt are laughing harder & harder because the guy won’t believe me when I tell him I’m not Taylor Fucking Hicks. He kept getting so excited that he met Taylor Hicks, I just signed an autograph for the poor bastard. Is this why people come to America? To meet losers from American Idol!

CANADA

   In late September, we drove through Canada to Nova Scotia, then back through New England. Highlights of the trip…the Old City areas in Montreal & Quebec City…whale watching in New Brunswick…the amazing tides at the Bay of Fundy…the Acadian churches on Prince Edward Island…seeing whales and moose on the same hike in the Cape Breton Highlands in Nova Scotia…hiking & biking in Acadia National Park in Maine…seeing the fall colors in Vermont & New Hampshire. We stayed at B&B’s most nights on the trip; it really gives you a chance to meet the locals and learn of cool places to visit in the area. Almost every Canadian asked us about George Bush. After I gave my opinion, I had to answer the following questions…how did he get re-elected? Americans are stupid. Is he retarded? No, please don’t embarrass the mentally handicapped. Does America still support the war? No, don’t confuse supporting the troops with supporting Bush & his lying henchmen. Who still believes Bush’s bullshit? Only people stupid enough to believe Rush Limbaugh’s drug addiction is different than Kurt Cobain’s. While in Quebec City, Chrissy arranged to see Tiguak at the Aquarium. For those that don’t remember, Tiguak is the polar bear cub Chrissy hand raised at Brookfield Zoo. It has been 5 years since Chrissy saw Tiguak. When we arrived, Tiguak was pacing in her exhibit. As soon as Chrissy yelled down to her, Tiguak ran to her, stood on her hind legs and began chuffing & moaning (a polar bearing greeting). It was amazing to me, she clearly remembered Chrissy. She led Chris around to the viewing window and got face to face with her. The keepers at the aquarium were also amazed. Tiguak never acted like this. They let Chrissy feed Tiguak in the back. There was no doubt among those present that Tiguak remembered Chrissy. I had tears in my eyes, but Chrissy never did. She was just excited to see her baby. Weeks later, while giving a group of teachers a tour at Brookfield Zoo, she was telling the story of her visit to see Tiguak and broke down. She apologized to the group, who told her to stop apologizing because they were also crying.

   A few other tidbits…while in Canada we never saw any geese…probably because they are all in the United States shitting in our parks…I only saw three concerts this year, Marah & Flogging Molly twice, while in Canada we stopped to see some music. The bar was so empty, the singer, Steven Bowers, decides to sit at a table and play for the 8 of us. This guy is a fantastic songwriter and performer. We listened and talked music with him all night long…my hockey team won the winter league championship…our oldest cat, Ammie died this year. She was actually named Amaretto, but known as the Dago kitty for her love of pasta…so we marked her grave with a Virgin Mary statue holding a bottle of Amaretto. Let’s continue on a religious theme, I’m not overly religious. I know you’re shocked by that comment. Anyway, I believe religions cause more problems than they solve. Sometimes it’s hard to believe God really exists, and then something happens to make you believe. During 18 nights in Canada, our only B&B problem occurred on Prince Edward Island. The owner of the Trailside Inn didn’t have a room for us. He did get us a room down the street. He took us to a house owned by this eccentric artist named Mary. She is packing up to move to Toronto for the winter. The house has that musty, strange old lady that lives by herself smell. We decide to stay anyway. We talked with Mary about her artwork and family history in Maritime Canada until late in the night. The next morning she was still sleeping, we left $60, a thank you note and fresh fruit (we had bought at a farmers market in Montreal) on the kitchen table. Later that day, while on the ferry from PEI to Nova Scotia, I spent most of the trip talking to this huge burly Irishman with wild red hair. We talked about living in Nova Scotia, fishing for a living, whales and the Tiguak story. He was taking a job at a mine where the owner needed him to catch a thief. If he handed the thief to the owner he would be paid $5000. Chrissy asked me who I was talking to out on the deck; as usual I never caught his name. As we drove our car from the docks, I saw the Irishman hitching a ride. We picked him up and he laughed when he saw it was me. He introduced himself as Joseph. As we drove, it was obvious he hadn’t bathed in awhile, but we enjoyed his company. After we dropped him off, I told Chrissy that the past 24 hours were our “World’s Fastest Indian” day. It’s a great movie about a easy going New Zealander (Anthony Hopkins) who travels to America to race his motorbike at the Utah Salt Flats. It chronicles all the strange, off the wall people he meets along the way. Then I realized that maybe it was more than a coincidence that we had met Mary & Joseph. Maybe it was a message that someone was looking after me, that whenever you begin to doubt, a little assurance is sent your way and it’s up to you to figure it out. Hey, it was just a thought at first, but over time I really began to believe it was something ordained. So, in the spirit of Christmas, the next time a stranger or someone different than you comes into your life, don’t just cast them aside. Maybe they were sent to you for a reason, maybe they could brighten your day or enrich your life or maybe just maybe they are just some pain in the ass. I guess that’s for you to decide.

Peace & Love, Gregg & Christy

December 22, 2011 The 2005 Christmas Letter

Alright, I know this is late this year. I actually started this over a month ago, but since I’ve become a bitter old man the first draft was just me ranting and raving about the stupidity of American people who still believe our lousy president’s bullshit. So after several rewrites and still sounding like a bitter old man, I scrapped the whole thing and am now rushing through this version of the Christmas letter. My anger over the incompetent group of criminals running the country has not subsided, but I did realize that the Christmas letter is suppose to be a humorous look at the absurd way Chrissy & I decide to spend our year. So better late than never…maybe not…here’s a recap of 2005. THE WHITE SOX WON THE WORLD SERIES!!!! I repeat THE WHITE SOX WON THE FUCKING WORLD SERIES!!!! The rest is just inconsequential details.

In February we went to Rome for a week. We took a guided tour the first day there. As we sat on the bus one of the guides came down the aisle saying “Good Morning” to everyone in the language she thought you spoke. She was correct on everyone until she got to us; she looked at us and hesitated then said “Buongiorno”. I guess between my nose and Chrissy’s mustache we looked like Italians. We spent the rest of the week just walking around Rome. It is an amazing city completely ruled by the Catholic Church. In one week we visited more churches than the previous 40 years of our lives. It is hard to describe the beauty and differences of each church. The artwork, the statues and the artifacts in every one of the Roman Catholic churches is mind boggling. We searched out the Santa Scala, which are reported to be the steps Jesus walked up at Pontius Pilate’s house. Now think about that for a moment, you can walk on the same steps as Jesus…count me in. Well it turns out you must crawl up the steps on your knees while praying…OK I can show some respect, this is still very cool to me. Apparently some people take this more seriously than me, the stairs are packed and it takes several hours to crawl & pray your way to the top. I left asking couldn’t there be an express lane…maybe just the left half of the staircase for people with a little less time and devotion. The nuns bounced me out of the church while saying Hail Marys & Heavenly Fathers and making the sign of the cross. As soon as we left the church…I swear I’m not making this up…a hail storm began while we waited for the bus. When it finally arrived I jumped on through the back door but Chrissy only got an arm in when the driver shut the door and took off. I’m yelling STOP!!!, which everyone but me realized was useless, as Chrissy is running along side the bus, a local finally yelled FERMI! Then he continued to yell at the driver to open the door. Chrissy kept yelling you fucking asshole at the driver…thank God he didn’t speak English. While visiting the sites around Rome, I took a lot of pictures. I try to be polite and consider everyone around me. The Japanese tourists also like to take pictures and have no manners whatsoever, which is strange for a group of people that rarely grow over 5’5” and 140 pounds. Chrissy was so pissed at them that she purposely walked into their pictures. She is now famous throughout Japan as that Round Eye Bitch that ruined my photographs.

Over the past year, we have visited NYC five times, which means Chrissy & I have visited my Aunt Maryann’s house more often than both of our parents’ homes. I guess this says something about who treats us better. I know most of you think I go just to eat Maryann’s cooking, but she didn’t cook Italian food until our last trip in December…and thank God she did or this little story would have ended with me crying about not having an Italian  meal there all year. In April we took our fourteen year old nephew, Kyle to NYC. He said he wanted to go with us.  We took him all over the city and all he did was play with his fucking Gameboy. I thought he was bored hanging out with us, so one day I asked him what would you like to see… “the Empire State Building”…OK…we wait on line for 2 hours to get to the outdoor observation deck…after 5 minutes on the deck that son of a bitch is sitting inside playing his Gameboy. I was going to throw it off the building but realized it wasn’t the Gameboys fault…so I threw the kid off the building…how do people put up with children seven days a week? Every trip to NYC brings us to new places…this summer we had dinner with Freddie & Maryann on City Island in the Bronx at a place called Sammy’s…Maryann had a plate of crab legs stacked so high we couldn’t see her until she ate half her dinner. It was a beautiful summer night so we visited a little state park on the East River in Long Island City that had an amazing view of Manhattan. In October we took my friends Ralph & Machelle to NYC. This trip was just to eat Corato’s pizza. I have said many times while eating shitty Chicago pizza that I’d fly to NYC just for some good pizza and it finally happened. While eating at Coratos, which Ralph & Machelle loved, I told them the stories of how I have eaten there for almost 30 years…eating there with my grandparents on every trip to NYC, how my father sent me at age twelve to Corato’s after midnight with a fifty dollar bill to get us a pie. After listening to my stories the guy at the table behind us told me he moved away in 1979 and still visits the neighborhood once a year just for a slice of Corato’s pizza…I completely understood.

For those that do not know, Chrissy’s sister lives next door to us. She has 2 boys and a girl. As I’ve stated before I hate all kids, but as they get older I can put up with them more. It is fun to be the cool uncle. I take them fun places, do fun things, then send them home to their parents who yell at them about stupid shit and the kids yell back cool things like “ I hate you, I wish Uncle Gregg was my dad. He is so cool.” Of course the little fuckers don’t realize what a prick I’d be if I was their father, so for the next few years at least, I can be cool Uncle Gregg. This brings me to a couple of stories involving my niece Kristian. One night after a trip to the beach with the dogs, we stopped at Schoops for hamburgers with Kristian. She was talking about cartoons and mentioned Wonderdog, unbeknownst to me this is a new cartoon, so I say don’t you mean Underdog, she says no Wonderdog, I say Underdog like underwear, to which she replies very loudly “Uncle Gregg, do you wear Aunt Chrissy’s underwear?” Well Chrissy spits her hamburger half way across the room. Everyone within earshot looks at my four year old niece and I say “God damn it, I gotta start shutting the blinds tighter!” One Sunday we took Kennedy & Kristian to Lincoln Park Zoo, then to dinner in Little Italy and finally back home. While driving down the Dan Ryan Expressway, Kristian starts singing “Lions & Tigers & Bears, Oh my!” So after a long day with these kids, hearing her sing this a couple of hundred times, I’m desperately trying to change the subject. So as we passed the garbage dump at 130^th St. the smell enters the car and I say “Aunt Chrissy farted”. Without missing a beat the kid starts singing “Lions & Tigers & Bears & Farts Oh my” repeatedly. Chrissy starts laughing uncontrollably…she can’t stop and has tears running down her face, I start laughing mostly at Chrissy, meanwhile “Lions & Tigers & Bears & Farts” is continuing nonstop from the back seat. I finally had to pull over at 159^th St and toss the kid out of the car.

In August I quit my job. I needed a break after working nonstop for the past 25 years. I thought I’d spend my days riding my bike on the dirt trails in the area, working out to get into shape, taking day trips to shoot photographs and surfing the internet for porn. Chrissy had other ideas like buying a new car, remodeling the living room, buying new furniture for the newly remodeled living room. So after spending a month tearing out the carpet, tearing off old paneling, repairing plaster walls, painting the room, stripping the wood floors, staining the floors, replacing the trim and adding crown molding and spending over $35K while I’m out of work. I had to relax for a few days so I left to visit my mom in SoCal without telling Chrissy. AAAHHHH…fantasy…seven days at the beach just me, the waves and the hotties…reality…like Meatloaf once sang 2 out of 3 ain’t bad. By the time Chrissy found me, she had spent another 5 grand. So I came back and got a job. It was easier on me than being out of work. While in Cali, I helped my brother George move some furniture then we went to Best Buy to pick up a wine refrigerator he had ordered. Shockingly, the moron at Best Buy couldn’t find the refrigerator even though he had called Geo to let him know it had arrived. After several phone calls and even more blank looks from the store’s brain dead employees, we were told it wasn’t in yet. So as we’re heading out, here comes a lady with Geo’s refrigerator on a dolly. She apologizes about the mix-up then says “I’M SURE YOU TWO WILL REALLY ENJOY THIS”. Now I’m sure lots of gay men shop for wine refrigerators, but I set her straight anyway by saying, “Hey lady, I’m not gay, but we still aren’t sure about my brother here.” She gave me that ‘OF COURSE YOU’RE NOT GAY LOOK’ and walked away.

I know everyone thinks their life sucks every now and then. And now I feel like Norm from Cheers when he said “It’s a dog eat dog world and I’m wearing Milkbone underwear.” Our male dog Glacier is about 10 years old. He has bad hips, which prevents him from squatting properly. This is a very important position for a dog in order to take a shit correctly. So let me cut to the chase, I now have to wipe my dog’s ass every time he shits in the yard…so whenever you think you have it bad…think of me on all fours lifting his tail and wiping his ass. Chrissy usually grooms the dogs, but they were a mess so she took them to a kennel for a doggy spa day. Our dogs are big, but definitely not tough. When they got home that night they looked & smelled great and were on their best behavior… I think it was like “Scared Straight”, the program where delinquents spend a day in prison to get a taste of life there and the inmates try to scare them out of a life of crime. I pictured my two dogs being terrorized by a Rottwieler & a German Shepard in the kennel…“Hey Glacier, you think you’re tough, you’re a pussy, I’m gonna make you my bitch” and “you sure got a pretty mouth Fluffy”…since the two of them were on such good behavior after a being traumatized at the kennel, we plan on sending them again next month.

I’m not sure why, but every year I list the shows we saw. Here’s this year’s list… Spamalot, Wicked, The Thing About Men and Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. Concerts…Paul Westerberg, Ben Folds, Marah (twice), Floggy Molly (twice), Bruce Springsteen and the DropKick Murphys (it was Kyle’s first concert; I had him in the mosh pit). The best concert was Lyle Lovett, John Hiatt, Joe Ely and Guy Clark on the Songwriters Tour, the four of them sitting on stools playing songs, respectfully goofing on each other and telling stories. We highly recommend seeing Lyle Lovett or John Hiatt in concert.

Over the years, lots of people have written or said nice things about this stupid newsletter and some have said not so nice things. That’s fine, I understand. But my friend Rich Twardy would actually critique it for me. My favorite was the year he simply said “not as funny as last years”. He was right. When Chrissy & I got married, we didn’t want a limo, so I asked Rich if we could borrow his 1957 Chevy. He not only agreed, he offered to be our chauffeur. After the church ceremony, he held the door as we jumped into the back seat. On the seat was an ice bucket with champagne and two glasses. That’s Rich; ask for something and he does that little extra for you…every time. Rich died last year, suddenly, right before Christmas. I can’t think of a more devastating time of year for a family to go through such a thing. But I don’t mention this to bring anyone down, just to use Rich as a lesson for the season. I have no doubt that everyone at his funeral knew how much they meant to him. Because every time he saw you there was no doubt how happy he was that you spent some time with him. To me, this is an amazing personality trait. So this holiday season and beyond, let those you spend time with know how much you enjoy being with them. Don’t assume they know, make sure they know how much they mean to you. So to everyone that gets this letter, let’s try to spend some time together next year. Chrissy & I are thinking of you and we hope your Christmas was merry and have a Happy New Year. As for you Rich, next time we meet…I’ll bring the champagne.

December 21, 2011 The 2004 Christmas Letter

Dear Santa,

   So maybe you think it’s strange to get a letter from a forty year old fat guy, especially one that isn’t applying for your job. But I live in a country where 51% of the people believe in George Bush. Since they believe in him, I don’t feel foolish believing that some fat old man can grant me a Christmas wish. What? You live with toy making elves…still believe in you… and flying reindeer…nope, I still have more faith in you granting my wish than George W. leading our country to a strong, safe future. Therefore the following is a recap of my year; I hope to convince you that I’ve been nice more often than naughty. Then, you might grant me my wish.

   Last Christmas, you gave Chrissy a couple of sex books (BTW, thanks, nice try, I really appreciated the effort) OF COURSE IT WAS A FAILURE. One night she was actually reading from the book “365 Sex Positions for A Year of Good Sex”. Now here’s another example of her only being able to talk about animals, while reading aloud for me to follow along, she mentioned something about arousing the clitortoise. I said “THE WHAT?” She said “clitortoise” again. I said “maybe it’s a cliturtle!” I laughed so hard there was no chance of sex for months. Let’s just say when my sex book comes out it will be called “Lord Of My Pants” or “Sex – It’s A One Man Job”. OK, maybe this one falls under the naughty column. But could you do a brother a solid and make Christy a little naughtier for next year.

   One of the few things Chrissy & I enjoy together is spending time out in nature. This past January, we went out to Starved Rock State Park to see the bald eagles. The birds usually are across the river on a tree filled island, so I brought a long telephoto lens in an attempt to get some good pictures. But the eagles were still too far away. We decided to hike up onto Starved Rock. While up on the cliff, an eagle flew just a few feet above us, I still couldn’t get a good shot due to the telephoto lens. Now, the eagle was too close. For the first time in my life, I was so close to something beautiful and had something too long in my hands.

   Chrissy went to a Polar Bear conference in San Diego in early February. I went along to visit with my Aunt Pat & Uncle Ed. As a little boy I remember being very afraid of my uncle. He was in the military and always seemed very intimidating. Hell, he has 4 daughters; intimidation was necessary for the teenage boys that came calling. Anyway, we had a really good time with them. It was quite amusing to see him tap dancing around the kitchen to avoid my Aunt Pat finding out what he told us under his breath. When I told my cousins the story, they agreed that while growing up, dad was the good cop to mom’s bad cop. It’s funny how my perceptions have changed with age.

   I still play hockey with my friends in a men’s league. Last winter, Walter & I put together players from our old teams. We had a pretty good season, even made the play-offs. That’s where I caused a major problem. You see, we have a five gallon plastic bucket, officially called the STANLEY BUCKET (after hockey’s trophy, the Stanley Cup). Now each week someone has to bring the bucket full of beer, so we can have a cold one after the game. Sure we used to go to bars, but now we are all too old. Plus we got tired of the nasty looks the young hotties give us when we get caught staring at them with Miller Lite dribbling down our chins. Anyway, back to the story, I forgot the bucket for our play-off game, so on the way to the rink I stopped for some beer and ice but no Stanley Bucket. Some of the guys said this was a bad sign. I ignored them. Then Jim McDonnell, one of our best players breaks his skate during warm ups. I worry. We jump out to a 5-1. We’re fine. Mike Stasiak, our goalie gets hurt, as Keith Shires puts on the goalie equipment, we let up 2 goals. OK, not bad. 5-3. Then Walter gets tossed from the game. Uh-Oh 5-4. They tie the score with less than a minute left and win in overtime. That fucking bucket cost us the game. I know you don’t believe it, but most of us believe we lost because of a plastic bucket curse. I hope it doesn’t last as long as the Boston Red Sox Bambino Curse.

   In April we treated ourselves to dinner at one of Chicago’s upscale eateries, Charlie Trotter’s. My friends Walter, Liz, Debbie & Eric went along. Walter booked the table in the kitchen 6 months in advance. I had to wear a blazer, who owns a fucking blazer? I wore a suit jacket. We had our own Maitre De, she started out with her high brow attitude, but when Eric said that squab was a fancy way of saying pigeon, she lightened up & we had a fun time eating among Chicago’s elite. I believe the bill for 6 people was over $1600. We couldn’t afford to eat out at anything better than White Castle for months.

   Santa, this story should be one for the nice column, it’s supposed to be the thought that counts…RIGHT!! Since we stayed at my Aunt’s while in Cali, my mom only saw us for a few hours at a party thrown by my cousin Mary. Before we left Cali, she called to inform us that they were coming to Chicago for my dad’s 60th birthday in April. I figured a surprise party with all 3 sons would be a good idea. Why Chrissy OK’s these ideas, I’ll never know. Geo & Marcy were in right away, Jeff wasn’t so sure. He finally decided to drive by himself, Jen had to work. (That’s been her story but I think she knew better than to spend a weekend with the whole family.) Long story short, Jeff got lost. He somehow ended up at the Canadian border in upstate NY. The Canadian Mounties were laughing at him when he said he was driving from Boston to Chicago. I couldn’t believe a person that didn’t take the short bus to school could get so lost. Jen could, the poor girl said she has to worry every time he leaves the driveway. Anyway I pulled the surprise off, when my mom saw Jeff, she ran to my dad yelling “GEORRRGE!” When she saw Geo & Marcy, her exact words were “Who’s watching my cats?!!” That’s the kind of love we remember from childhood. The weekend was moving along smoothly. We met a huge group of friends & family for dinner at The Warsaw Inn then continued the party at our house. Unfortunately an Ott family tradition was continued. We began playing a party game where you divide the group in half & take turns singing songs with a word listed on the game card. It always starts out fun, then intense (due to that Ott trait that requires victory), then the explosion. Chrissy started yelling at Georgie, Geo yelled back. Chrissy said “Fuck You!” I didn’t remember seeing those words on a game card. I yelled at Chrissy, someone yelled at Geo, lots of words that definitely weren’t on the game cards were said. AAHHH! Another Ott family get together. I’ll bet the Manson Family get togethers are more peaceful than ours.

   Mrs. Delgado told me that she decided to visit NYC after reading last year’s newsletter. So in June, we headed to NYC and met Mr.& Mrs. D at JFK. After a wonderful dinner at my Aunt Maryann’s, we headed into Manhattan. We did some typical tourist things, Empire State Building, Central Park, Wall Street, Grand Central Station and a fantastic Broadway play, Fiddler On The Roof. We also did some not so typical tourist things, The Mermaid Parade at Coney Island, walking around the West Village in the aftermath of the Gay Pride Parade, Spanish Harlem (for some delicious pizza at Patsy’s), dinner on Mulberry Street in Little Italy at 10:30pm, buying umbrellas on the street and running through the rain in SoHo looking at menus for a good place to eat. Even after we left them to attend to my grandfather’s funeral, they managed to get around the city on their own. Their daughter, Kathy, e-mailed me to verify her parents’ version of the trip. She was surprised by all the things they did in one week. Now Mrs. D knows firsthand why I love NYC so much.

   Santa, I will admit to one regret this year. I wish I would have spoken at my Grandpa’s funeral. I know I would have lost my composure, but I really wanted to say these things…he was reason I was in NYC when he died. It was during all those trips as a child that he taught me to love NYC, the buildings, the subways, the beaches, the baseball teams. I always feel like I’m somewhere special while in NYC. It is because my grandfather passed his love of his city on to me. He may not have been the perfect husband or the perfect father, but he was the perfect grandfather. He always made me feel like he wanted me there with him. Even if he was told by my grandmother to do something with me he didn’t want to, I could never tell. Most of my favorite memories are from visiting my grandparents… Corato’s pizza, riding the front car of the subway with Grandpa explaining how the lights, markers & braking mechanisms work, showing me how to read the subway map, teaching me how to keep score at a ball game, taking me to Shea & Yankee Stadiums, the Empire State Building, the Twin Towers, Battery Park, Central Park, the Staten Island Ferry & Coney Island…for all these memories, I will always be grateful. I love this city and I love him & will miss him…especially when I have a slice at Corato’s without him. I also want to thank my Aunt Maryann for taking such good care of my grandfather; everyone should spend the last years of their life with someone like her.

   I was back in NYC the next month, this time as the chauffeur for my mom, Aunt Pat & Uncle Bob. We were there to attend their cousin Kathleen’s wedding on the Hynes side. I got to room with my Uncle Bob, who is like my family’s version of James Bond. I was amused listening to Uncle Bob crack wise, then getting chastised by his sisters.(This must be a Hynes trait I inherited, I also get chastised by my sisters) I love these family functions because I get to put faces to the family tree I’ve worked on for 10 years. For the second year in a row, I met family members for the first time and felt like we all belonged together. The food at this wedding was amazing and endless. We ate for over 6 hours and it was served so perfectly that the main course at 10pm went down as smooth as the cigars & after dinner cordials that followed the dessert trays. The highlight was spending time with my Grandpa Hynes’ brother Norbert. He had this classic New York Irish way about him, he told me stories about himself & the Hynes family. The night ended with me watching my mom dance with her Uncle Norbert. It was like seeing her dance with her father again, at least as close as she could get to him. Maybe she was thinking the same thing. Damn, here comes that composure problem. (Like my mom always says “You’re a fucking pisseye”)

   Well Santa, in August we made it up to your part of the world. Chrissy volunteered to work on a brown bear research project in Alaska, so I tagged along for an Alaska adventure. Georgie even came up for part of the trip. (This caused my mom to warn me that I was responsible for her baby in Alaska. Apparently it was ok if I died as long as Georgie made it home safely.) We kayaked in Katchemak Bay, hiked to several glaciers, even climbed on the Matanuska Glacier, visited Kenia Fjords, Wrangell St. Elias & Denali National Parks, had to stop the car for moose in the road, had a bear follow us while hiking to an abandoned copper mine, hiked through the snow in Denali, saw bears, eagles, moose, caribou, red fox, ptarmigans, dall sheep, otters, puffins and more impressively spent 17 days together without any major flare-ups between us. Now that should impress you more that anything else. Well, there was the day Geo & I hiked on the Matanuska Glacier. We had to hike over glacial silt to get on the glacier, then a rare Alaska thunderstorm swept over the mountains. We were about a half mile from the car. While running along the marked trail Geo points and says there’s a shortcut, so I going running in that direction. I promptly sank to my thighs in the silt with Geo laughing at me from the trail. I would have kicked his ass when I caught up to him except I was soaking wet & had 40 pounds of silt covering both legs. Then I decided to kick his ass anyway…then a little mom angel appeared on my left shoulder…”don’t let anything happen to my baby”…then a little red devil appeared on my right shoulder…”kick his fucking ass”…I looked left then right…the devil said “what are you more afraid of, eternity in Hell or your mom?”…I decided not to kick Georgie’s ass.

   Every December as I try to muster up some Christmas spirit and the desire to write another Christmas letter, I get the spirit of Christmas from an unexpected place. This year it was at Gayety’s Chocolates. (A 3^rd generation family business in our local downtown area) While in line to place my order for Christmas gifts, I listened to two old ladies just making friendly conversation. One told the other she went to Gayety’s as a child living on Chicago’s South Side. They began most sentences with “back in those days”. They came to realize that they grew up around the corner from each and had never met until that day. The old neighborhood butcher, the pharmacist who would always say, “Take this straight home to your mother” and of course, stopping for candy at Gayety’s on the way to the movie theater next door. I just loved listening to their stories. These kinds of moments always lighten up my cynical heart, because I realize these neighborhood stories are fading into the forgotten past. Santa, this brings me to my Christmas wish. It is simple and will be derided as idealist, so be it. It is my Christmas wish that people will always have fond memories like the one detailed above. It can happen if we spend more time supporting businesses where the owners greet you personally and appreciate your business. Do you really think people will reminisce so fondly of their neighborhood WalMart and how they saved a dollar on some useless piece of shit? Every neighborhood has small family run businesses, find ones that offer something unique and support them. You might even begin a lasting friendship. Here’s a list of my friends that offer something unique …Walter at Northstar Custom Cabinetry, Eric at James Dunlop Builders, Donald at Bates & Co. CPA, Jim & Lee at www.gayetys.com, Mike & Karen at www.cafeborgia.com, Dave Stutler Upholstery, Rich at Twardy’s Radiator Shop, Nick at 21^st Century Contractors, Woody at Woody’s Garage, Ralph at Diamond Dry Cleaners, Nick at Joltin Joes and Kathy at www.vintageweave.com.

   Santa, I’ll get off my soapbox now…it just takes longer since I turned 40 this year. I really try hard not to be a bitter old man who complains all the time but I seem to be losing the battle. We still get out of the house occasionally we saw the following plays…Hairspray, Oliver, Thoroughly Modern Millie, The Graduate, Phantom of the Opera, Scrooge, Evita, On The Record, Rent, The King & I and Fiddler On The Roof. We even made it to a few concerts, Prince, Floggy Molly, Bodeans, John Mellencamp and Steve Earle. It’s time to end this letter. So Merry Christmas to everyone and…my niece Kristian just handed me a Christmas cookie she made with her Aunt Christy…now that’s a Christmas tradition she might look back on and remember fondly…especially when she takes her children to visit their great Aunt Christy in the nursing home and Chrissy is drooling all over herself and needs her diaper changed in the worst way. Of course I had to act excited about the cookie…then give it to my dog, Fluffy…God only knows how many disgusting things are on that kid’s hand …no way I’m eating a cookie that she touched…there’s the bitter old man…I’m expecting three ghosts tonight…gotta go…Merry Christmas, hope everyone has a Happy New Year.