((First published in December, 2007))
I don’t recall many holiday parties from my earlier childhood. In our
family folks were too busy working or shopping at Christmas time. And
when we lived in Dorchester the apartments weren’t
really big
enough to hold large parties in, although there might have been one or
two. If so, they would have followed the rules of other adult parties my
folks had: after saying hello to the adults,
my sister and I would be sent off to our beds to eventually fall asleep while listening to the adults
in the other room laughing at Rusty Warren records. We wondered what "roll me over in the clover" meant.
As an adult, most of my Christmas party experience has been at work, including one at a now
defunct toy chain warehouse(more on that job later) when I was in my early twenties. It snowed
when
I left for home. My car at the time was an Olds 98 and being in a hurry
to get home, I didn’t completely clean the rear windshield. I backed
up, turning the car around….
…and smashed my rear windshield by backing the car up under a tractor trailer box front end as
if it were a big rig hooking up.
The good news was, my Dad worked in the auto glass repair business.
The bad news was I had to call him and tell him what I’d done.
It was an …umm…interesting conversation.
2013 Update:
I think this is my favorite out of all the things I've posted every
year about past Christmases. I remember the windshield incident with a
smile now but at the time I was a nervous wreck waiting for Dad's
reaction, especially since I'd had a few highballs at the Christmas party
which probably had a lot to do with my backing into the trailer. I also
had to drive the car home
with no rear windshield in a snowstorm and I was worried I'd get pulled over by the police. When
I
got home we covered the broken window with something, probably a cut
open garbage bag and masking tape, and a few days later Dad found a
replacement at Goldy's, a local junkyard.
Most
of all, I remember Dad getting out of his car when he drove up to the
Child World warehouse, taking a puff on his cigarette, and giving me
The Look before asking me "How the hell did you manage to do that?"
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