Since I stayed up until the early morning hours Christmas Eve and abused myself in the spirit of the holiday season, I don't crawl off the floor until the early afternoon. I'm not too hungover since I didn't plunge myself into the unconsciousness last night. There were several young people at the gathering and it was pleasant to listen to their perspective on life. While the old folks busied themselves with family rumors and remembrances of past loved ones, the youth wanted to inebriate themselves, smoke cigarettes and speak of ideals.
To be honest, I don't know their major themes except Mexico has many more miles to trek and Trump is trash. While I grow less and less sure about myself as I age, they are firm in their beliefs. If it has to climb over their dead bodies, change will have to come. Like their adult counterparts, some things never change. They want to drink themselves into a stupor.
As benefits a Christmas morning, Santa has left a freezing wake on his journey to the south. It is rainy and gloomy. Thunder and lightning provide the frozen fireworks. There is an excellent Mexican greasy spoon less than a two blocks from my apartment. I don't think it is open and I don't want to venture into the inclement weather even though a hot of coffee seems worth the risk as well as a late breakfast.
I have no plans for today. I suppose as evening approaches, I'll drink a bottle of wine and eat a well-catered meal. I reflect on Brownsville and on all the chaos that exists for me here. My personal life has turned into a catastrophe as it seems to succumb to less and less meaning. Without sounding too melancholy, not one of my sons has called me although a few friends have been kind enough to forward their regards. How the mighty have fallen!
Franko Harris, the great Steeler running back infamous for the immaculate reception, suddenly dropped dead at 72. My old pugilistic buddy Joe Barguiarena suffered a permanent knockout last week. Whether they're national heroes or personal friends, they are dropping like flies. I'll be 74 in four days although I don't feel like I'm in danger of dying within the next few months although all these wide-spread viruses seem to be taking a toll on the best of all.
I fear that the state of our health is taking such a woeful toll on humanity that I wouldn't be surprised if someone informed me that Santa was dead.
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