Merry Christmas

  • by Drew

Hey, it’s the season, and I am really enjoying myself this year. Shopping was done weeks ago and there are a few surprises that I’ve kept surprises, so I’m inordinately pleased with myself. Only bummer is that I finished wrapping ages ago, and I really love wrapping. That is not sarcasm, I really do love to wrap. I tend to buy and wrap all at once, so I never have any last minute wrapping projects. I do, however, hide all the presents in stacks in the attic, so I don’t put bows or anything on until things are going under the tree. It’s not much, but it is something. 

We went out a couple days ago to pick up some groceries, deposit a check at the bank, mail a box…like that. It was INSANE out there. Traffic was terrible, parking lots were terrible, people were miserable and nasty. Horns honking, middle fingers aloft, squealing tires, hunting for parking space – all the noises and joys of the season. Yuck. Am I wrong to feel superior in these moments? How un-holiday of me. 

Amidst the errands we lunched at my new favorite theme restaurant Buffalo Wild Wings. I love this place. Love it love it love it. I love Buffalo Wild Wings as much as I hate meth-shooting, dye-job sporting, Facebook stalking, ex-almost-girlfriends. You know I really hated that, so it surely tells you that BWW is fan-diddily-tastic! I particularly like their boneless wings in any of their 12 or so sauces. Asian Zing and Spicy Garlic are awesome. They had a lunch special – 6 wings, fries and a drink for $5. Dude. Noah had mini-corn dogs and Carol had a classic boned wings (she likes the bone – and that <em>is</em> what she said). We hung out, watching half a dozen big screen TVs showing, among other things, an online poker game, a Reggie Jackson documentary, an extended sleep number bed infomercial, a billiards tournament, and onscreen trivia. All this while they blasted an all-90s satellite radio station. The music made me feel like I was in college again, except I am a lot older…and married…with kids…and a pregnant wife…and I actually have enough money to buy $5 lunches for three people. 

Ah, adulthood. The gift that keeps on giving. Anyway, in spite of the holiday turmoil we were able to enjoy a yummy, kickin’ it back lunch. And that little thing helped me keep my hand off the horn and my finger turned down…the whole day. If that ain’t holiday spirit, I don’t know what is.

Boats ‘N Hoes

  • by Drew

Yes, another Step Brothers reference. Actually, for this post, Apidexin ‘N Cisco might have been a better post. It is, after all, the season of chunky Walmart shopping, angry large people seeming to descend from the hills for their single day shopping outing. All this holiday spirit, dripping from me personal ramparts reminds me of an overheard conversation a few years ago at the Dollar Store…

I was walking up and down the aisles with a then 2 year old Jake while Carol waited on a huge line to complete an insubstantial purchase of stocking stuffer chocolate and batteries, or something. I had repeatedly passed members of a particular family who were doing their Christmas shopping…yes, ALL of their Christmas shopping. They had been talking rather loudly, hogging the aisles, and making something of a spectacle of themselves.

As I was making my way to the front of the store, praying that Carol was almost to the front of the line so we could flee, I passed a final pow wow of the three women, representing three generations in this particular family. They had dumped their booty into Grandma’s cart and all were reviewing what they’d purchased. It seemed like they had gifts for several family members or friends. Several gifts for each of these people, and they seemed rather pleased. Then the whopper –

Mom: What did we get for Daddy? (I assumed she meant the daughter’s father)
Daughter: Ummm. We can give him these Santas (she held up a box with 8 or so chocolate Clauses)
General mumbling as they pushed things aside and searched.
Grandma: Oh, I got him these nice socks for church (they were tan and, in all honesty, fairly nice looking…for the Dollar Store)
Mom: Goddamn it, we should have spent more time in the man aisle.
Grandma: Too late now.
Mom: Yeah, we gotta get on line.

Let me just end with this – I am a very lucky man because every year, year after year, my wonderful wife always spends the exact perfect amount of time in the man aisle.

Merry X-ma$ indeed.

The Ice Storm

  • by Drew

That was a great movie…remember? Did you see it, The Ice Storm? I don’t know, like ten years ago it came out…it was very good. A little depressing, very illuminating. There was a lot of dysfunctional family stuff, a key party and a dead hobbit. (Elijah Wood – trust me, I’m trying to have some fun with an otherwise depressing situation.)

Anyway, excellent independent films aside, we had a seriously kick ass ice storm in Northern Dutchess last night. Power went out around 8, and will probably be out for a couple of days due to county-wide problems, but if you put aside the difficulties of a power outage in late 2008, you can really marvel at the wonders of nature.

Seriously.

So power went out around 8pm last night. This morning around 6:30am we, as a family, took a ride to the local Stewart’s for coffee, donuts, gas and gossip. Damn. Most of the county is without electricity. Eeek.

So we decided to head up to the in-laws in Massachusetts and enjoy some hot water bathing until the power at home is restored. On the way we experienced a rather amazing slalom amongst the hundreds (literally) of bent, ice-encrusted trees. Pretty cool.

Here’s the thing, though…while many people on the road were being conscientious and cautious, there were a couple of cowboys who are nothing short of big-time a-holes. I’m not even talking about SUV-lovin’ maniacs, but, in this case, schmucks in little 2-wheel drive sports cars, burning up the eight foot wide path of messy road, tailgating and flashing and honking, when people were just trying to safely make it to the next bunch of fallen trees.

Seriously people, I have witnessed quite a few mega winter storm is my 18 or so years of driving and this was a truly unique situation. I’ve seen much worse driving conditions, snow and slush covered roads in particular, but I’ve NEVER seen anything liek this with the fallen and falling ice covered trees. I mentioned to Carol on our way to Massachusetts that in the worst storms I’ve encountered up until today, you see one or two fallen trees and go “Wow, that’s somethin’ else.” Today…no lie…I saw HUNDREDS of these same fallen trees. Amazing.

And still, there were those people in their little cars, steaming up my backside like they have something REALLY important to tend to. Like the free world depends on their arrival…somewhere. Like they have massive  Plantar Fasciitis and if they don’t get to the Podiatrist soon it their f-ing feet will fall off.

Seriously, dudes. Today Mother Nature said, “Hey, pay me some f-ing attention. I can do shit you’ve never imagined.” We need to chill, step back and pay her the awe she deserves. She can be truly staggering.

$ Love

  • by Drew

I saw an interesting plate yesterday on the back of a black SUV. BUC LOVR.

Hmmmm. Buck lover? A banker maybe? A Wall Street bailout recipient? Maybe somebody from AIG?

Or was it Buc lover, like buccaneer lover? A sports fan? Or maybe somebody who is really into pirates. I mean, like REALLY into pirates.

Then I saw an NRA bumper sticker, and a bunch of white cut out decals of deer heads. Ahhhhh. I get it. That kind of buck.

And since gun hunting season hereabouts is open until December 9th (with some more time after that for bow hunting) it is probably not a good time to be a deer in these parts. It is also probably not a good time for a buck to be getting inexpensive life insurance quotes. Better just duck and cover and avoid the Buc Lovr.

I really wish he was into pirates. I mean, I have nothing against hunting or hunters, but you really never do know who you’re going to run into out there.

OTC Speed

  • by Drew

I had yet another terrifying drive yesterday. I was in the right lane on the Taconic heading south. Cruise control, as usual, was locked at about 62mph. In my rear view I saw a car coming up pretty fast. I would soon learn it was a white Infiniti. I kept track in the mirror as the car approached at a decent clip. The guy driving had to be doing 80. As it passed into my blind spot, I shifted my head slightly so I could get a peripheral look at the maverick behind the wheel.

As the front bumper of the car came into view, I realized with some horror that it was, quite literally, only inches from my driver side fender.  I swerved into the right hand shoulder and glared over at the car. It was a full two feet over the center line and still drifting my way. And the driver? He was sleeping.

Let me say that again: HE WAS F#$%ING SLEEPING.

Yup, genius in the white Infiniti fell asleep as he passed me doing 80 plus and drifted into my lane nearly crushing me.

Now, I have to admit, I have driven tired way too many times. I have, on more than one occasion, nodded off and started drifting only to jerk awake with a bit of a cold sweat. At least twice I did this to find I had made a complete lane switch. The thing is, when  I know I’m tired and sense I may be in trouble, I don’t gun it 25 miles over the speed limit and start passing people.

The Infinidick did seem to wake up, because a car length or so ahead of me he suddenly veered left, retaking his lane. I stayed back and watched him drift a couple more times before he exited. Thankfully there were no other cars in his path. What scares me most is that I don’t think he even saw me. Eeeek. Somebody get some No Doze for the Infinidick!

This got me thinking about that old Family Ties episode when Alex got into diet pills and didn’t sleep for a couple days. Kids today won’t get it with their Orovo and Pilates and such, but I remember a time when diet pills were essentially over the counter speed, available in both pill and geltab form, and they were just swell for a pick me up before Jazzercise class.

What a great time in our history.

Rough Ride

  • by Drew

Holiday season is rough, even on Monday morning. One car after another was tailgating me on the way in to work. So much aggression. What is it.

One guy was particularly bad, riding my tail on a one lane 45 mph route. I was doing about 60, like the eight or so cars in front of me. This cowboy in a gigantic Tahoe passed me on a brief stretch of dotted yellow. Then he tailgated the car formerly in front of me until he had enough breathing room to pass – this time on a double yellow curve. Is it bad of me to wish for a crash in these instances.

Finally, after about 10 minutes of extreme aggression, the Tahoe was two cars ahead of me. For all the recklessness and stupidity he had gained something like a 30 foot advantage. And then, without a blinker and barely touching the brake, he careered across oncoming traffic (a horn did sound) and squealed into a parking space. I looked out the driver’s side as I shot past and saw where he’d parked.

In the Manager space of an Auto Collision Repair shop. He must be his own best customer. Geez, maybe it’s been slow and he was out drumming up some business.

Prop Job

  • by Drew

So I went to Virginia last week. It really wasn’t a bad trip. I flew from Stewart in Newburgh – a first for me. I had to connect in Philly, but it was worth it. The only direct flight would have been from JFK. Taking into account the travel time and the headaches, one connection was worth it. My overall travel time was actually probably about the same.

The only thing was that they were some small planes. Actually, three out of four hops were in jets (small jets, but still jets) and they were all cozy but fine. The first flight of the round trip ride, however, was a little 12 aisle prop job. Eeeek.

It was bouncy, trouncy. It was a windy day to start with, and the plane flew much lower than I am used to. I was feeling well shook up by the time we got to Philly. For once I was glad there was no food or drink service.

But man, flying has really changed. The three airports I encountered on this trip all seemed to be operating on skeleton crews, and the add-on charges for…well, everything is sure different from how it used to be. And, not to sound like a schmuck, but on that little prop plane with extremely limited space, we had a rather chunky flight attendant. It was literally physically impossible for her to walk up the aisle without pressing the hip and/or posterior flesh against my shoulders. And since I was up near the front of the plane, I was, uh, pressed, a few too many times.

I will probably have to head back to VA in the next couple of weeks, and I may well take the same flights. Do you think I’d be too much of a jerk if I suggested she take a gander at the exercise equipment in the Sky Mall catalog…or at least check out some Hydroxycut reviews?

Who dat?

  • by Drew

I’ve noticed something lately – a lot of cars, in addition to the silliness of a vanity license plate now have a big personalized sticker on the windshield. I’ve been seeing things like “Kathy’s Hummer” and “Jen’s Truck” and such. Sometimes, the particularly lucky and creative have matching windshield sticker and license plate. It’s just wacky to me.

Maybe it’s because I’m afraid that if people knew which car was mine they’d be more likely to key the paint or something. I don’t know, it just seems…frivolous.

I understand certain personalized things. Jake has a cute half-sized guitar with his name embroidered on the gig bag. It’s cute. And it’s not like it’s a backpack and some stranger might use knowledge of his name to get him into a van with no windows. I mean, if some dude at the club after the gig is like, “hey, you must be Jake,” I think he’ll be rock star enough to deal with the windowless van.

I like personalized books too. I still have one from when I was a kid. It’s about this cool alligator who comes to my house on my childhood street and became my friend. That was pretty cool. Plus, it helped me learn how to spell Susquehanna.

Oh bugger…

  • by Drew

Hey, it’s been a while since we talked license plates, but I saw an astounding one today. On the back of a seedy looking little pick up truck: BUG R IT

Ok, dude, what the fudge (no pun intended or implied)? Carol recently told me about someone who couldn’t get ZINFANDL on his plate because it refers to booze. And yet, some dude in a Deliverance-mobile can proclaim his love of sodomy for all to see? I thought Git R Done was annoying enough, but…damn. Seriously, you can check the definition. It’s a verb. It means sodomy.

Somebody find me a car cover for this heap so I can forget all about rednecks with “open minds.” Eeeeek!

Has My Faith Been Restored?

  • by Drew

Last night, as the clock rolled past midnight, we came into a new day both literally and figuratively. I saw the labors of thousands bear fruit. I saw the dreams of millions become a reality. It was a remarkable feeling.

There is a lot of talk about the younger generation as a prime driver of this dramatic political and social shift. I remember the last time they described an election in similar terms, driven by the young vote. I am proud to say that I was a part of that happening. It was my first vote, and the change in policy and philosophy resulted in, perhaps, the most significant period of growth in our nation’s history.

This nation was founded by people of vision and courage. They were smart, strong-willed, unbending, and most of them were very young. They wanted something better for themselves and their children. They were full of hope.

But this event, this success, this triumph should not be diminished by statistical nonsense or rhetoric about race or age or gender. This is a victory shared by all Americans, regardless of age, race, religion, sexual orientation or political affiliation because the system worked. It was a difficult campaign with, much of the time, spite, accusation and invective. Mud was slung. Nasty things were said. But in the end, the people of this nation took advantage of their right, in fact, they embraced their responsibility and made a selection. The system worked.

During the primary race, I wondered if the United States as a whole was ready for what the Democrats had to offer – a black man or a woman. Could we, as a nation do it? Honestly, I wasn’t sure. Over the last few weeks in the campaign, as I saw repeated examples of ignorance and intolerance, I found myself questioning the integrity of the American people. I found myself with very little faith in the American people.

But last night, as a man made his concession speech, and a handful of his supporters embarrassed themselves and disrespected their candidate, I realized something. Perhaps those ignorants and the intolerants, though vocal and loud and adept at making themselves visible, perhaps their numbers are smaller than I feared. Perhaps, even, a lot smaller.

A long time ago I wrote a pretty trite line in a song…Change is good, even when you feel it. It may not be particularly insightful, but it is true. Tom Waits said it even better. If it’s worth the going, it’s worth the ride.

So what does this philosophical wank all really mean? Am I getting warm and fuzzy and Yankee Doodle Dandy in the George M. Cohan style? Not really.

And to answer the titular question, has may faith in the American people been restored?

Truthfully? No. But my hope for the American people has been. And looking at some of the moments in time that brought us to this very new morning – the Declaration of Independence, the Revolutionary War, the Emancipation Proclamation, the Second World War – all predicated on the hopes and dreams of the American people, I will take hope over faith any day.

© 2026 Drew Bancroft. All rights reserved. Totally.