Month: December 2014

I’ve become one of those guys that almost never ties his sneakers. Most of the kicks I wear were tied when I first purchased them, the laces tucked securely behind the tongue and out of view of the general public. I slip in, I slip out. It’s a pretty mutually beneficial relationship, I think at least.

However, when it comes to the sneaks (how many synonyms can we go through in this little guy, huh?) I use for working out or playing basketball, eventually this strategy falls flat. Despite my best efforts, I ultimately will have to be an adult and actually tie the basketball boots (ding, 4) instead of slipping in like a fourth grader wearing these.

And while I’m usually annoyed at the effort, the result is fantastic. You go from slack and sort of uncomfortable to tight and crisp in an instant. It’s that moment when I think—hey, you should tie your footwear more frequently—then, of course, I snap back to reality and realize that the cool kids don’t lace up tight.

But, it felt good while it lasted.

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: The overdone lace-up. It’s so fucking tight, you might as well have sprained your ankle.

This probably speaks to something bigger picture, which I’m sure is a higher ranked feeling (the love of family! yay!) but I’m talking about the literal act of being a person, walking into a house on a holiday, when a lot of your family is already there.

When we were younger, and she was alive*, we’d have Thanksgiving and Jewish holidays at my grandmother’s house. Typically, my mom would be there before my dad, brother and I as she was was helping with the preparations and last minute cooking/etc. that needed to be done around the house.

Now, my dad is many things, some positive, some negative… but above all, that mother fucker is prompt. In fact, he’s typically early. To him, being on time is often slightly late. So, more often than not, we would not get to experience this feeling. We’d be the ones greeting the various waves of people walking into the house (I say waves because we’d routinely have 25-30 people—40s weren’t out of the question either).

Don’t get me wrong, I loved that feeling. You’re already there, you’re already having fun, you can pretend who you did and didn’t see based on the seat you’ve had the opportunity to choose. It’s a great feeling in and of itself. But, the feeling of walking into the house once everyone else is there is like a mini-red carpet situation.

Even the family members you don’t like and don’t like you at least give some reaction to your arrival. There’s a ton of hugs, some waves, a few air kisses… Once I even signed an autograph**.

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Having to go to a holiday at your significant other’s family’s house. Unless you hate your family. Then, this is number 227.

*Would be pretty strange if we’d kept up the tradition at her house once she and my grandpa passed, now that I put in writing, no?

**I’m not kidding. But, it was someone who wanted me to sign the copy of the book my mom bought for them.

I’ll admit, this isn’t exactly my forte. I wouldn’t call myself a bad gift giver, I’m definitely in the middle. What I am, insofar as a gift giver, is reliable. That may also be a synonym for lazy, but I know you all have some uncles, cousins… hell, parents, that are even worse than lazy, they’re that kind of gift giver that gets you shit they would like if they were you.

The problem? They’re not.

So, I say, either stick to the script (my general route) or get clever, but just be aware.

Recently, I opted for the latter. It was my brother’s birthday about 10 days ago and I was looking for a gift. I had originally intended to get him the new Wu-Tang album that was coming out, but he’d already pre-ordered it (so, you can see why that idea made sense). So, I did a little internet work and found this printed gem to the left here.

Yeah, I’d say it’s a clever gift (to be read in this voice)

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Thinking you’ve found this incredible, clever, original, in-your-budget gift for someone… only to realize you’re that person I was talking about at the beginning. The only reason you bought it is because you like it and you’re so detached from this person, you either don’t care or can’t tell the difference. And they hate the fucking gift.

I’m unsure if it’s better to have someone there for the place you’re arriving at, or the place you’re returning to. One way or the other, it’s a feeling of welcome that is difficult to replicate.

Nowadays, it doesn’t seem as if it happens as much. People are always in a rush, parking is too expensive and a pain in the ass… Just come to Gate H at Terminal 2, Get as close as you can to the front so I can see you!

But, I guess the rarity of it makes it all the better. The fact that someone doing that for you, just even the act of doing it, means there’s some effort that had to have been put in.

And let’s be honest, it’s welcoming. It’s the reason (at least one of the many), people own dogs. There’s something nice about that little guy being at home, excited, when you get home. This is like that, times about 30 or 40. It’s just a really big, like 4-story, dog waiting for you at the airport. Sort of.

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Realizing how unlikely it is that this will happen for you at any point in the near future. I’d need to get killed in some sort of accident in another country for people to be waiting for me at the airport. Even then, I don’t know if I’d blame them for not wanting to deal with the parking at Newark airport.