Monday, December 14, 2015
I freely admit that I don't get out very often, and it's mostly by choice. This visit out in the world was a confirmation that my hermit status has been verified.
On my way there I was really trying to get myself in the Christmas spirit. I had Christmas songs playing in the truck, a Christmas-ish beverage in hand, and a positive mental outlook...until I walked inside of a place that appeared to be the first level of hell from Dantes Inferno.
The sliding doors open and display a woman screaming in a crying childs face, I enter into the gates of hell and another woman is violently tugging at a stuck cart as she curses it's existence.
I grab my cart and proceed to the second level of hell.
It's a scene of mass chaos, and I'm tempted to vacate the inferno, but I have a list in my pocket and I can't come home empty handed.
I navigate the chaos and fill the cart with the listed items. I reach the check out lines, which rivals any amusement park roller coaster line. I'm standing there...staring in my cart...it's contents are shit.
Pure plastic shit. Future garbage.
I know the temporary joy this future garbage will bring my son, but something is wrong with all of this.
I am a student of quality. From my clothing, to my work, to my food, to my personal relationships, I demand quality. Why haven't I been able to pass this affinity for quality down to my son?
Then, the voice in my head says "because he's 5 you dumb ass."
I had fully intended on enjoying this whole experience, but left feeling sick to my stomach.
I wake up this morning to write this post, and as I load up these photos, I feel a little better.
Zack knocked out a bad ass bench from a live edge slab that he bought from a yard sale. I watched him spend an hour, rummaging through all of our scrap steel in order to come up with a base for it.
Zack is a real quiet mother fucker, I mean it takes some work to pull information about what he's doing. I don't even bother anymore, I've learned that his best work is when he's the most perplexed.
I knocked out a welded chain coat rack that someone is getting for Christmas. I doubt that they need a coat rack, but I don't NEED socks and underwear either and I still use em'.
After Zack finished the bench, he joined in the gift making with the Whiskey art.
Gifts come from the heart.
Plastic bullshit, hand made stuff, as long as it comes from love.
If you feel obligated to get a gift for someone, ya probably shouldn't.
People get their mail delivery person gifts...I don't know shit about my mail delivery person. For all I know, they could fuck kids or have a head in their freezer. I'm not getting someone a gift for doing a sub par job that they get paid to do, bah-humbug.
The people in my life whom I love and appreciate, I do my best.
It's not always the best for them, but it's MY best.
The Holidays are when you spend time with the ones who really mean something to you and it's a chance to show your appreciation for the roles they play in your life. The Holidays are not about how much shit you can cram into a cart, or all the great deals you got.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.