Friday, November 29, 2019

Friendsgiving, Romulus, and African American Friday: Dawn of the Holiday Season

It's the most wonderful time for a beer. . .
Happy Holidays, America.

So we just wrapped up our run of the Thanksgiving Gauntlet and are now officially in the Holiday Season.  Thank f***ing God.

I, for one, start gearing up for Christmas the second Halloween is over and done with. . . more or less because I despise Thanksgiving and would rather just sleep through it entirely.  I know I've explained this before many, many times, but my family has never really got down with Thanksgiving all that much.  Even growing up, we just treated it like any other meal, just with additional uncles, aunts, cousins, and grandparents.  Womenfolk in the kitchen, guys watching the Lions lose, someone gets physically injured and requires medical attention, or some expensive appliance breaks, arguments break out, people get pissed, and we all agree to do it again next year.

God, I hate Thanksgiving. . .

All out chaos in the Larson's kitchen at Friendsgiving '19
Anyway, like in previous years, this year we once again planned on going down to Romulus to visit with Kris' extended family.  This year, however, we added another social obligation to our calendar:  this year, for the day before, our friends the Larsons decided to host a Friendsgiving, with everyone in our nine-family social group bringing food (and drinks) and hanging out together.  Wives in one room, husbands in another, kids in the basement. . . you know, the usual.


Come to think of it, that's a lot like my Thanksgivings growing up, just without all the hospital visits, garbage disposals breaking, and relatives yelling and swearing at one another.

And more beer.  Definitely more beer these days.

Anyway, here's a brief run-down of the Houghs' Friendsgiving/Thanksgiving/Black Friday tour-de-force.  Enjoy the holy hell out of it. . .

The Dad Brigade.  Lonnie, Matt, Brad, Dave, Morgan, Ryan and Steve.
The Shepherds, who relocated to New Jersey in August, flew in for the 'holiday' (if we can even stomach referring to Thanksgiving as a 'holiday.')  Pete's buddy there, on the left, showed up for Friendsgiving, but I can't remember that dude's name.
Total child mayhem in the basement.  I try and stay out of the 'kid zone' whenever we all get together - it's absolute insanity.
Yes, that's moonshine.  It always turns into one of those nights with these guys.
The following morning - much later than we had anticipated - we set off for downstate.
The van works out well on these cross-state trips - the built-in DVD player is a godsend (my Escape doesn't have one.)
Welcome to scenic. . . Romulus.
 
Once again, just like every other year we come down here for Thanksgiving, Kris refused to stop so I could try the apparently world-class filet mignon at the Landing Strip - Romulus' premier strip club.
The Laginess Clan.  They asked if I would take the annual family picture this year, which I of course was totally happy to do, but afterwards we all realized that we should've made one of Kris' niece's boyfriends take it, since, you know, they probably won't be around in a year or so, and I've been around for nearly twenty.  Oh well.  Since I don't take pictures of this event, and Kris never takes pictures at all, this is the only one you get.
Fast forward to the morning of Black Friday.  Since we Houghs don't really get up early to brave stores and engage in ridiculous 'door-buster' deals for shit-ass, third-tier TVs or crappy electronics and toys (we do our shopping online, like civilized folk), we hung around lazily and let the girls start decorating their tree in the basement.
(Any excuse to play around with my new camera, folks.)
Breaking out the B-squad ornaments that have been labeled as 'not good enough to go on the main Christmas Tree.'
Eating brownies at 10am.  'Cause it's sort of a holiday. . . right?
Snuggling with the dog.
Watson and the Cannonball.
Abby did about 90% of the tree decorating, as Alayna was too preoccupied consuming her gigantic brownie. . .
I can't bring myself to replacing our Star Wars-themed tree skirt.  I just can't do it.
Posing for the camera.
See?  The dog does it, too.
Later that night, after the girls went to bed, it was time to mix up one of my favorite Holiday cocktails - a Merry Irishman (Tullamore Dew, peppermint vodka, and coffee liqueur) and decorate our tree with ornaments.
Like I've mentioned before - many, many times over the years - Kris and I always watch the classic comedy Some Like It Hot while we hang up our ornaments on the tree.  You'd be hard-pressed to find a funnier movie from the '60s,
Note the designated Indiana Jones, Muppets, and Detroit Lions sections on our tree.  We try to theme various areas of the tree while decorating, some years more successfully than others.
Meanwhile, back on the TV. . .
Watson napped most of the evening while we worked around him in the living room.  The pillow on the right is Kris' first new throw pillow of the season.  Cause indeed for celebration. 
I look like a homeless guy here.  A holly, jolly homeless guy.
 
The legendary Jack Lemmon.
Yes, still napping.  The lazy bastard.
 
A really good beer, just perfect for a History teacher during the cold, winter months. . .
And that's how you kick off the official start of the Holiday Season, America.  Prepare for the Yule-ness of the coming weeks. . .

- Brian

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