You know, it’s Christmas Day. That can only mean one thing. Presents!!!!!!!!!! Now being 30 you learn a few things about Christmas. Number one, until you are about 5 or 6, you don’t really like Santa. When you get to around to 11 or 12 you don’t really believe in Santa. When you get in your late teens all you really want is money. When you get into your late 20’s, well I guess you still want money. When you are into your 30’s you just want to be young again. Anyway, back to the fat man. Santa and I go way back. At a young age of my life, I would have to say I wasn’t too fond of him. He was the scariest thing to a young boy; at least until Michael Jackson came along.
What does Christmas mean to me? Not as much as it used to. Part of it is the whole getting older thing, but it lost a lot of its importance after my dad died. I don’t really know how to explain it, but the feeling of Christmas changed completely. It was extremely tough that first year, a lot of things were though. One of the things that is nice is that I have kids to give presents to now. I have a young cousin and then my friends’ children. I actually enjoy seeing them get presents more than I enjoy getting them myself.
No need to worry, cynical & callous Dave will return in the next blog entry, but until then. Merry Christmas to everyone reading this.