Making the best of a bad thing...
(Also subtitled: the continuing saga of my disdain for "The Holidays")

Please note:
This is a VERY long-winded rant by yours truly about a really stupid situation that got decidedly worse this weekend. If you prefer very long stories, that hardly effect you in any way, please read on. If not, don’t torture yourself.

As if we all don't bring enough "bad energy" upon ourselves around this time of year, what with all of the shopping with money we don't really have, the long-thought considerations if what to get for people we don't really know, struggling to spend "quality" time with people we don't really want to see, coupled with the lack of time in the ever-shortening daylight sun (okay, technically we're beyond the solstice and the days are actually getting longer again, but certainly not fast enough), to say makes for stressful times, may well be the understatement of the year.

Add to all of this, when some of said people we don’t' really want to see, decide that this is a perfect opportunity to push their own agenda. When they seem to think that now, of all times, is the best time to "stick to their guns" and do their own thing.

Over the last several years, we've made concerted efforts on many occasions to make it to see as many people as we can on each trip north. Specifically, at this time of year, we seem to have our hands most full. It's enough that we have so many people that we actually do want to see that are scattered all over the Philadelphia Metro area, add to that a precocious toddler and a particularly unwelcome canine, and itineraries can get dicey, to say the least.

This year we decided to, perhaps against better judgment, crunch our holiday running-around into a two-day affair. We made it known quite some time ago, and reiterated over the Turkey-day holiday, that Kim would prefer to not spend her birthday trapped in the car, crawling north on I-95. Personally, I had hoped to dodge the drive altogether, but the compromise was to leave VA on Xmas eve morning, head to West Chester for Shrimpfest (7 not 5... OOPS), and then over to NJ on the 25th for a pinball-type affair trying to see everyone on that side of the river before heading home around 7pm.

Oh yes... all the while, finding a place for the aforementioned Regal Beagle to spend Christmas Vacation, and keeping Young Harry (you remember Harry? There’s a website around here about Harry) entertained, well-rested, and fed.

So go figure, Kim the world traveler has put together a relatively realistic itinerary for the weekend, in which we actually had some wiggle-time, and overall, not too much time in the car. All is well... until the sticky guns decide to rear their ugly heads.

There's nothing worse than when someone you're not allowed to distance yourself from, by virtue of blood relations, decides making not only an ass of themselves (again), and an absolute mess of what has historically been a relatively fun occasion. Now I know there are myriad of discussions of the state of, importance of, detriment of, direct effects of (etc... etc... etc) sibling rivalries, but by definition, doesn't a rivalry need to be recognized by both sides?

For those of you new to the situation, a few quick notes: Kim is an only child. I've got an older bother by 3 years, and a younger sister by 6 years. Meghan and I have what I'd like to consider a pretty solid relationship, as she also seems to have with Kim... which is nice. To say that my relationship with Bryan is strained, would be putting things politely... VERY politely. As well, both of my parents have remarried since their divorce, Kim's father remains single, and her mother has remarried. Now back to the story...

So back to our travel schedule... the plan is -- up at the crack o' dawn with young Harry, whip up a batch of blueberry pancakes for nourishment, everyone dressed and in the car, drop off the pup at Positive Playcare, and head North to PA to spend the afternoon in West Chester prepping for Shrimp. Touch base with some friends at the park, eat some seafood and such, make Meghan watch "It's a Wonderful Life" finally for the first time, and get some rest. once again, up at the crack o' dawn, head East to NJ for breakfast at Pop-Pop's, over to see Kim's cousins & godparents, to Kim's Mom's, to the firehouse, to see Melina's new house, then to Shelly's for dinner, Harry into his PJ's, then head South to sleep at home that night.

While it may sound intimidating, take it from me... this was a GREAT plan.

I took the 23rd off so Kim and I could spend her birthday together on a date-day (nights never seem to work out that much, although we DID make it to Tara's for dinner on the 22nd!). Harry off to school for his last day, haircut for me, some cleanup around the house, catch the matinee of Harry Potter (great flick, even without having read past the first book), pick up little man, pick up a nice dinner & desert at Whole Foods in Clarendon, and head home in preparation for a nice weekend of whirlwind travel.

Actually got a call on the 22nd from big brother, looking for info on our travel plans, and if we wanted to meet up for dinner before Shrimpfest (Mr. Fisherman doesn't eat seafood, so for him the menu suddenly doesn't appeal to him). I think I politely declined, but was "looking forward to seeing them." Thought the call was a bit odd, but didn't think much of it.

Called big brother again on the 23rd to wish him a happy birthday (for those playing at home, Kim and Bryan share the same birthday, as do I with his wife Anna). Admittedly an extremely brief call, but I had spoken to him the night before, and was going to see him the next evening.

We head to the movies, and I naturally turn my phone off. As we depart, and I go to check voicemail, a curious message from Bryan that there was some spat between him and the Red man that morning, and that they would not be seeing us at Shrimpfest. Maybe we could get together while we were up there.

Are you kidding me? Did I mention our schedule?

So I call back, and he gives some long-winded explanation about how having a phone call earlier with Dad, and getting into a big argument about something that happened the previous Spring between Anna and my Dad's wife Sue, that apparently got tied into Bryan's lack of communication with me and our sister, and that his decision was made that they wouldn't be going, it just wasn't a good time, and that he was sticking to his guns. Maybe we could come to his place before we went to West Chester, it's about the same travel-time anyway, and their 9 month-old wasn't felling well, and that it just wasn't a good time, and he was sticking to his guns...

Rrrrrrright. Whatever.

So I give him the bird's eye of our schedule, and where we have some free time at the park to meet up with some other friends and their son who's Harry's age. Maybe they could meet up with us there.

well, their 9 month-old wasn't felling well, the Park may be too much, it just wasn't a good time, and he was sticking to his guns... we'd talk tomorrow.

Right around now, some of you who have been paying particularly close attention may recall that my own original travel plans for this holiday season revolved mostly around no travel whatsoever. We'd be in VA, and everyone has our address. If you'd like to come by, we'd love to see you, and if you can't make it, we certainly understand, and we'll see you sometime soon.

My sister got wind of that "plan" and made it clear that it wasn't going to fly. This was one of her few trips back from Seattle during the year, and I certainly wasn't going to be the one to stick a fork in the Shrimpfest tradition if she had anything to say about it. So we decided that perhaps we'd oblige and make an appearance. Compound that with the staunch effort to not be traveling on Kim's birthday, and we suddenly were spending an entire day in West Chester, hanging out.

So you can imagine that the next call, after confirming the sudden turn of events, was to Meghan to find out what was going on, and get her side of the story. Admittedly, the details were hazy at this point to her, but she was indeed aware of a blowup conversation between Magoo and Bryan that morning, that seems to have somehow stemmed from Meghan relaying a request for a more varied menu...?

This is getting dumberer by the second... no?

So onto the other horse's mouth. A call to Magoo confirmed the heated exchange (perhaps better described as acrid) and a personal experience of the low-blow argumentative style that my brother has so glamorously displayed in the past (although certainly not to anyone outside of our immediate family, only internally), and the ensuing rude awakening that he indeed continues to exist in his own world. That said, Magoo had planned to let things cool down -- on both sides of the fence -- and would again re-invite them tomorrow.

You’ve got to admire the unprecedented gall, if nothing else, to be able to call out the host on something that you screwed up yourself six months prior, and turn that into enough of a heated exchange to bring down the party for everyone else, and expect everyone else to come running to you to change their best-laid plans, so you can feel superior… after all, you stuck to your guns.

With no intention of changing any of our plans, we give everyone a chance to sleep on tings and head out as planned the next morning. Just above Baltimore, I decide that it’s as bad a time as any to return Bryan’s call, to see what their plans are, if they’ve changed at all, and where they are going to be. No sign of the olive branch that Magoo was to have offered, and indecision at best to meet us at the park, but he’d call back. Almost at our destination, I give Meghan a ring to see what she knows, only to catch her in her very own emotional state. Turns out that Bryan does plan to meet up at the park, but very clearly (read: loudly) makes it known to Meghan that he absolutely will NOT be coming to Magoo’s place, and that if she has any problem with that, she’d better let him know right then. Ah, diplomacy.

So we finally arrive, only to find Meghan still fresh in her emotional state. After all, her only intention in this trip was to get to see everyone in one place before heading back out west.

After an admittedly very awkward greeting with the Magoos and a quick lunch, Meghan, Kim, Harry and I set out to meet up with whomever was coming to Everhart Park.

Lisa and her son Christian arrived in short order, and the boys had a blast going from one sliding board to the next, climbing on various expressions of Fire Engines-turned-Jungle Gyms, and tossing leaves at and around each other.

And up rolls the Saab wagon. Out pop Bryan, Anna and Patrick, like there’s nothing wrong. All smiles, no hint of apprehension, aggression, or even apology. No mention of why we were meeting in the park, why they decided at the last minute to ruin the party, what they were going to do instead, or even any future get-togethers. Of course, why would they? In their world, as always, they’re right, and you don’t matter.

There’s nothing like making small-talk with a couple of people who have to win at everything. Even at small-talk. It’s one thing to not get a word in because the other person is always going, but it’s completely another when no matter how much of an open-ended question you ask, it immediately gets turned into a closed one.

Harry and Christian all the while are flying higher than ever on the swings with very well-timed “Whheeees” and Whoooooooooas.” Patrick eventually got on and proceeded to doze right off.

So after about an hour of strained conversation, they decide it’s time for them to go home, but they’d like to exchange gifts. So Meghan and I head back to Magoo’s to get things out of our car, and Bryan & Anna meet us there in their car. Nothing like standing out in front of the house, handing each other shopping bags of loot, and making nice at good-bye time.

Meghan and I headed back to the park, myself feeling as if a weight had been lifted and the whole thing was done for a while. We snapped some more photos of the boys on their swings, slides, fire engines and see-saws, and headed back to Magoos for a Shrimpfest that couldn’t be beat, and headed to NJ the next morning.

Depending on how you look at it, the best drama we could come up with on the east side of the river was the most Christmas gifts we’d ever seen in one room for 2 kids (courtesy of Dominic and Isabella Decker), and the utter panic on Harry’s face when he actually made it to see the real Fire Engines up close & personal, inside Allen’s fire hall (Extended thanks and warm wishes to all the guys at Erlton Fire Hall)

I guess the moral of the story so far, is that the effect of poor decisions can be exponentially compounded when coupled with tasteless timing. Situationally speaking of course, sticking to one’s guns can certainly be a respectable decision to come to, but to blindly do it without regard to your extended audience can be a real pain in the ass.

Overall, I’d have to say a relatively well-spent holiday weekend. A bit compressed, but Harry got to see a LOT of people who all seemed to be incredibly appreciative of his presences and smiles. I’d hate to think that we ever take them for granted, but they were certainly out in full force this weekend.

Sorry to have rambled on so much, but I hope you all had an even better time than we did, and best wishes for the coming year.

May the extent of your drama be big red parked fire engines, and too many toys in one room.