what happened to the thirsty turtle?

So here I am back at home in my freezing cold townhome. Maybe it feels a little cold because it is occupied by only me and my girl (below). A stark contrast to the full house I left behind. But that's not an entirely bad thing.


Alex, my sweet and slightly neurotic companion.

What a Christmas it has been. I had enjoyed the season, with all of its festivity and flavor and sentiment, more than usual this year. I'm not going to say that the actual holiday was a letdown. But honestly, I do feel that it was a bit anti-climactic.

First of all, there was more drama in our household this year than last. My parents, who have been married for more than 40 years, are less tolerant of each other all the time. They are constantly at each other's throats. Neither one has to do anything besides open his or her mouth and the other one is irritated. And the rest of us squirm as they trade punches that we are powerless to stop.

The other sore point for me was finding the Thirsty Turtle closed on Christmas Eve! The Turtle is a place known around my hometown (at least within my old high school circles) as THE place to go on Christmas Eve. Really, that is mainly because it was the ONLY place open late that night. So naturally it drew a crowd of 20- and 30- somethings looking to reunite for merry-making and a traditional toast to the Pope at midnight on the big-screen TV. I had not been for a few years, but remember our Turtle fondly as a place where I might run into the most unexpected faces from my high school hallways. And ever since Thanksgiving, when I realized with some sadness that most of my friends from the old days have moved away from our old town by now, I had been longing for that type of reunion.

To counter the disappointment of finding our place closed, I was not alone when I found the Turtle (all dark and empty). I had been going there to meet my friend Amy (who now lives in Atlanta and who I had not seen in quite some time), and she was in the parking lot waiting. Seeing as how it was close to midnight and freezing outside, and since we had both been brave enough to come out at all, accepting the defeat of a locked door was simply not an option. We had to find another place to go.

And find another place we did. It was a sublimely weird bar called Blackwater Hattie's. When we were in high school this building had been the home of a Burger King, and now as a bar the interior had changed hardly a bit. The fast-food tables and benches were still there, but a pool table filled the space where the condiments had been. And a bar (operated by a bleached-blonde, pear-shaped bartender with a black bra hanging out of her hot pink shirt) now stood where the cash registers were. The walls were covered with neon graffiti that reminded me of the scene in The Game where Michael Douglas comes home to find his mansion aglow in blacklights.

Despite the weird surroundings (and the guy who spilled wine on my jeans and then turned out to be Amy's third-grade boyfriend), Christmas Eve turned out to be a fine night. I also got to see my friend Thinh, who rode with me from Nashville after flying into the airport here (many thanks, Thinh, for inviting me in for dinner. It was really good to meet your family!)

After the brutal Christmas that followed (saved in large part by the sweet innocence of my niece and nephew), I was relieved to be heading home today. But still I felt that same bittersweet feeling I always get when driving away from my family. As crazy as they can make me sometimes, I don't want to forget for a single second that I am lucky to have them.



It's good to be home. Seems to be warming up a bit now.