Merry Christmas Eve.

Watching the Bengals Game. You know, not knowing how many points the other team has scored really takes the suspense out of the game. It's being broadcast in HIDEF but in my parents' NOTDEF it's just all blown up and shitty like a 1980's rental of Revenge of the Ninja before they knew how to pan and scan or letterbox. So the top of the screen (the amount of points Buffalo has) is not known to us. The Bengals have no points, but what does that mean? Are they tied or behind? Touchdowns and first downs are never a bad thing, so I've got the root concept of cheering down, but what I'm cheering for the Bengals to do is mystery to me. Close the gap? Pull ahead? And how much danger are they in of losing or tying? After all the quarter is cut off too. So I have no idea how much suspense to be in, do they have precious minutes to close the gap or pull ahead? And how much gap is there?

I was up Thursday night late wrapping gifts that I was supposed to have mailed probably a day or two before that. I go home to my Mom & Fred in Kentucky to spend Christmas proper and mail the rest. I wait to the last minute every year, but this year waiting to the last minute was fun. John Hill drove into Chicago to drive my roommate Steve Gluck back to Cincinnati, a place he refuses to move from because he likes delivering pizzas. He says it has his negatives but his increased lexicon of bad Cincinnati neighborhoods and crisis management skill while being robbed has weighed out the bad side. John also drinks Jack Daniels with Chocolate Milk, a drink we call The John Hill (who was Tom Collins anyway?).

A) please try a John Hill, seriously, it is actually a good drink, I am not joking at all, it works in the same way that the sweetness of Coke works with Whiskey. I hate whiskey, but I can definitely enjoy a John Hill. B) Spread the word until it becomes popular so John can be remembered for something, he deserves it. Ask for a John Hill a yuppie bars until you meet someone who knows someone at Maxim. C) Get it in Maxim.

That was quite a tangent.

So John and Steve sat in my office and rapped while I wrapped, by my office I mean the dining room.

I had intended to leave the day before, at 5am. I am obsessed with getting out before 5 am because I like to drive a couple hours before the sun comes up. I am now old enough to understand the allure of this previously frustrating Dad exercise. Now if I can just become obessed with how campfires are made, how bullshit is packed into a car, or how to make "good time" while driving I can officially be an old fart.

I was finished and ready to go at 5am Friday morning. Despite having not slept there was no way I was waiting until post-morning rush to leave. So I left. Bad choice. I was fifteen minutes in when I realized "fuck, I'm tired." Tired, yes, but making good time.

Because I had not mailed my Dad or Aunt's Christmas gifts I decided to do something I had never done before, make a surprise visit the day before Christmas Eve to play Santa. I made a detour to Dayton, which added three hours to my journey. Fuck.

God the Bengals defense sucks shit today.

Okay, HERE'S WHERE THE STORY GETS INTERESTING

What do your friends and family do when you can't account for their actions? If you're talking to them on the phone or in person you can account for their actions, every other moment is theory. Your assumption of what they do is a judgement upon their character. Right now. I can't see him, but I'll bet my Dad's watching tv, I bet my sister is in her room playing X-Men, I bet my cousin, Joe, is playing Grand Theft Auto, I bet Steve Gluck is talking to his dad, I bet Justin is telling a story, I bet Kate is listening to someone. Right Now I bet Mark Hanner is listening to "Right Now" by Van Halen.

Sometimes my judgement of their lives unseen is not as generous. My Aunt I always picture staring at a wall. I just...don't know what she does. I know she doesn't parachute. Pretty sure she isn't changing the oil on her car. She's fifty-something, unmarried, in no relationship, and has no discernible social circle or passion for much at all. I love her, but I just...don't know what she does besides enjoy that I call.

Surprise visits are a little nerve racking. You're putting them on the spot as to whether they like you or not for that first 2 seconds. That first two seconds is where the truth lies. The last person I thought would not want to see me would be my Aunt. She lives for me to call or visit, she's got no life but to stare out the window hoping I'll show up, right? At least that's what I picture because I'm a flawed man.

WELL GUESS WHO TOTALLY DID NOT APPRECIATE MY SURPRISE VISIT?!!?!?!?!

I would never in a billion years imagine that a surprise visit to my Aunt would be unwelcome I would never in a Trillion years imagine that she would rush me out because she was "doing something." She doesn't do anything. And I would never in a Do-deca-octillion to the twentieth power years imagine that the reason my visit would be unwelcome would be because she was SCREWING! My jaw still hurts from dropping when she came to the door disheveled adjusting her completely unsexy spinster floor-length House Coat imagining some mustached Ohioan I'll never meet losing his boner while hiding behind a shelf of Precious Moments.

Crazy.

My visit to Dad & Vicki's was much more welcome, after all they're married, so they were not having sex.

Fucking Begals!!! First turnover of the game is with 36 seconds left for a Buffalo touchdown! You dickheads! Well at least the big boys are going to let you play in their playoffs for one game.

We now flipped changed the channel to watch the remainder of the Tampa Bay game. They have 24 points. I have no idea what that means.