bringing that beat back...

t'was the night before Christmas, i was probably 7 or 8 years old. We ended up at the house of pa duke's old co-worker after spending the lion's share of the evening at my great-grandfather's house in Lynbrook, it might have been his last Christmas, details are sketchy when your 7...

the Rabinis had just sat down to their 15th meal of the day—they are Italian after all, so we stopped by. I had grown tired of the noise and hullabaloo, and retired to the cold and dark of the old brown station wagon although, at the time, we hadn't had it for very long. This was not an unusual event, i like my alone time, even when i was 7 or 8. Solace is one my favorite things...

i remember sitting there, with a smurf stuffed toy and deciding i had enough, went back into the house, walked over to my mother and requested that we wrap up the evening. After some pouting and some ribbing from the senior Rabini, we packed up the ship and my family and i started the journey home. During the ride my brothers began clamoring to my parents to open up presents that night rather then Christmas morning. If i was 7 then the elder would be 12 and the bastard would have been 10. They had grown into their cynicism by then and eschewed the idea of a Santa Claus. At some point, it might have been the elder, again semantics, who turned to me and said, 'you know there's no Santa Claus, right?'...

i've heard stories of this traumatic event played out many times by many people since, but for me there was no surprise, no horror, not even a blink before i said, 'yeah.' That settled it, the tradition of the Christmas Eve would be born. You see, even back then i was a full time resident of the constellation of logic. By pure scientific method i had already deduced that Santa could not exist. i was a good kid, stayed out of trouble, was fairly respectful and represented all prerequisite behavior that guarantees a swift delivery of whatever i asked for come Christmas morning. Two years before i had made my desire plain and simple. All i wanted for Christmas was a drum set...

i never received my drum set, which led me to believe that Santa Claus was probably some sort of control set long ago to keep kids in line. Not really, not back then at least, but its my story and i'm sticking to it...

i like the Christmas season, especially here in the big city. For all its manic, ultra-commercial, cut-throat self, it still breeds a togetherness as a people. Its one of the few things that still has the ability to foster that feeling in the modern world. i don't need Santa Claus or Baby Jesus to tell me so, it feels inbred...

so although we propagate tall tale after tall tale to our children, and feed into the machine like good little drones, i do sincerely wish you all a merry Christmas...

i gave up the dream of getting that drum set i always wanted, these days i wish for better times and getting a day closer to my Cat Mom. i'm easy, but if i wake up tomorrow to find a snare, bass and ride cymbal waiting for me then i'll take it all back...

merry Christmas to all and to all a good night...