[Inportant (Emotional) Safety Tip: Don't look directly into the smile of a ChiChi.]
On Tuesday before Christmas, Mom and Dad ask what I want for Christmas this year. I respond with a booklet of coupons for my copayment for mental health counseling. They think that this is a novel idea though they have never heard of it before.
On the Wednesday before Christmas, as I develop a bad headache and skip my late night ice hockey game, I go to the Coffee Tavern coffeehouse to read. I run into the ChiChi with the cutest smile on the planet. As was written the last time: "I arrive at the Coffee Tavern and see the ChiChi with the cutest smile on the planet. (From a long time ago.) And after getting my drink, I keep saying to myself 'Don't look up. Just keep your eyes on the display, the keyboard, the mouse, anything. But don't look up.' " Today, after getting my drink and reading for a while, I am the only person in the coffeehouse besides the ChiChi. (It is a slow Wednesday night.) And I violate the safety tip and look directly into the smile. And now I'm in trouble.
I ask the ChiChi where he is from and follow it up with "What language do they speak there?"
The ChiChi responds with an enthusiastic and titillating smile and a magic two syllable word. "Burmese."
And I look, again, directly into the smile of the ChiChi and now we're off and running. We talk about his upcoming graduation this Friday night, his family, his plans, and other things. When he mentions that his graduation present from his family is a trip to Burma, Laos, Thailand, and Bangladesh, I invite myself along.
And now I have the task of matching up or approximating flights with the ChiChi for an international trip in three days! Besides finishing Christmas shopping, I spend the next two days on the telephone and on the Internet trying to find matching flights.
On Saturday afternoon I cause some trouble at Mom and Dad's Christmas open house. The parents are talking about a very strict teacher, Mrs. Clark. The students have nicknamed her Clark the Shark. They say that Mrs. Clark puts two sticks on each student's desk. If you act up, she takes one stick away as a warning that you're on thin ice. If she eventually has to take the second stick away, then you've had it. I chime in with "Why don't you just glue the sticks to the desk?"
The comments heard after this were "You shouldn't be allowed to have kids", "That's a good one. We need to tell that one to our son.", "You were a troubled child, weren't you?", and "You wouldn't last one day as a parent at our school."
Mom and Dad stick up for me and tell everyone how reliable I am as a babysitter and how I tracked Mom down in the hospital when she broke her knee and was not in the hospital's computer. ("The computer is always right, sir. If your friend is not in the computer, then she is not in the hospital.")
One of the 8 year old boys who will have Clark the Shark next year asks me "Do you mean SuperGlue the sticks to the desk?"
And I respond with "It would be better if you used a dual compound adhesive system that crosslinks a bit slower. That way the molecules have more time to order themselves better and you get a stronger bond. Though it is a very exothermic reaction."
The eight year old replies with "Oh you mean that I should get one of those glues where you mix the two smelly things together?"
And I nod in the affirmative. (Nobody else is saying a word at this point because they don't know what the heck that we are talking about.) And I know that this student, William, is going to look forward to Clark the Shark's class next year.
On Saturday night, as the trip looks hopeless, I meet with the ChiChi. We look at his graduation photos. He has graduated with highest honors! And the ChiChi tells me that the trip has been delayed until January 10th. I am ecstatic! I now have time to match up flights.
On Sunday, Christmas eve, I go to the liquor store. The owner welcomes me, shakes my hand, and starts into a lecture about "...only my best and regular customers come here on Christmas eve." I drink heavily, but also vow that this is the last time. If the liquor store owner considers me one of his best customers, then I am drinking way too much.
I go to visit a friend in the hospital. Seeing that it is USC University hospital, I want to say something like "Let me take you to a UCLA hospital. A REAL hospital so that you can get better", but I hold my tongue and offer support. After surgery, he has developed some bleeding and a nasty infection. They are treating it with three different antibiotics including one of the new super-antibiotics. After the second visit, when I'm on the motorcycle, I race back down the 710 freeway to make a chiropractor’s appointment. I slipstream cars and big trucks in order to go faster. I make it to Long Beach without police or accident incidents.
On the Friday before New Year's eve, I go to the Frat House. I run into a number of acquaintances. As well as Sabrina. Sabrina, the HVAC, has not been around for a couple of months. When she comes over to hug me, I respond in her ear with "I'm mad at you".
She withdraws and asks "Why?" And sets her purse down on our table so that she can go dance without it.
And I say, as she bends down to hear, "Because you haven't called me and you have been gone for so long". She smiles. It turns out that she has moved to Los Angeles and very rarely comes down to Long Beach or Orange County.
I get Alex to give me a HUGE smile from across the club by teasing him into smiling. And we both understand our positions.
Sometime during the Christmas break, somewhere in Los Angeles county, I come across a small art gallery and wander inside. In a side room is an interesting display entitled "The Second Half Wind Art Show". The entire display consists of articles where half of the article is missing. There is half of a chair, half of a vase, half of a television set, etc. I do not purchase any of the articles from the display.