I'm So Jealous of Myself Because I Just Got To Listen To Hootie and the Blowfish in the Car. What Did YOU Get For Christmas?

Every time I look at you, I go blind. In the morning, I wake up, try to feel alive, but I can't. Words from the Hootster himself, assuming Darius Rucker wrote those lyrics. My guess is that he was writing about Hootie and the Blowfish's fall from prominence in the music business. Sure, lots of albums go to number one, and the artists are never heard of ever again, but they went to more than just number one; they sold so many records. So, with that being said, my deduction is that when Darius Rucker looks at his 32 time, maybe more, even though that was an attempt at hyperbole, platinum record, he goes blind. He tries to wake up and feel alive, which he can't, most likely because his music career was, at the time of writing that song, all but dead. If anybody follows this blog, and knows their history of Hootie and the Blowfish like I do, then a very big chronological error could be pointed out there, but for the sake of reason, I'll stick to false statistics.

So what did you get for Christmas? Clearly, I was given the gift of arbitrary argument, but, as I have said before, 'tis the season to be jolly. Fa la la la laaaaa, la la la laa. Right? The holidays are generally a time that I don't look forward to. I am honest about it, and I am fine with that. My familial perspective has been a little skewed since I was a little guy, and apparently, it only grows worse as time goes on. You see, I am very close with my mother, my step-father and my step-brother (insert oxford comma there if you so chose, but if you make a big deal of it, well, insert a supplementary insult as well*), but I am not very close, or very familiar with my family outside of that. This Christmas, though, I learned a little bit about family, which was a well needed lesson.

Being that of a lesser age, I feel ridiculous passing on ''wisdom'', but sometimes it is necessary. What I learned is that family is there for you. You can be the biggest jerk in the world, not that you should be, and they will still pull through for you. My father, whom I rarely keep in touch with, just this Christmas found the landmark of a year since we have last spoken. No, I'm not proud of this, and no, I don't like to flaunt ''daddy'' issues. With that being said, he still makes an effort. He sent me a lovely card with a picture of my little sister who I haven't seen since she was a very young child, barely coherent and mostly too energetic, playing a violin, damn near a teenager. My grandmother, Dale, cooked a wonderful meal, and though I have been thankless in every way that I could be, invited me into her home with Papa Stan, and engaged me in good conversation, nice drinks, and warm hospitality. One thing to understand about Papa Stan and Grandma Dale is that they welcomed mother and me when my Grandpa Bob had a heart attack during the Christmas season. I barely knew Mark, my step-father now, and Papa Stan's son, but they let my mother and I join their Christmas celebration because we had nowhere else to go. Papa Stan and Grandma Dale are not my biological grandparents, but Jesus Christ, they have always treated me as such. Stories can be told, and maybe they will be, but we'll save those for another day.

Speaking of Grandpa Bob, or, Gramps as we called him, he recently passed away. His latter years were rough. He battled cancer, lung issues, and anything in the name of health that could go wrong, did. I was his only grandson, so, needless to say, this was a weird holiday for me. Here's an off topic subject; remember when Tiger Woods was at the peak of his career and he was heading to the first tee as Jack Nicklaus was finishing the 18th? Well, Grandpa used to break out his knife to cut the tape for all of our presents when he was around, but this year we had a new edition opening her presents for the first time. Her name is Riley, and she is a beam of light. Riley is the product of my cousin Jenny, whom I spent the most part of my formative years with. My mother and her mother are very close. They are sisters. They raised three hellish children (maybe not so hellish, but more so problematic), and they did it with more love and care than you could imagine. While Jenny and I are only cousins, we are blood, brother and sister, raised and born together. Watching her daughter rip through packaging only to throw the product on other peoples laps was amazing. She smiles. She tickles. She dazzles.

So how could this Christmas be bad? There's no way. I was reminded of how lucky I am to have the people around me that I do. I was reminded that nothing is ever as bad as you think it is because other people have issues as well. We are human. We are one. We are a product of the product before us, and the product before that. My mother has always told me not to fear any situation, because, surprisingly enough, we are just people. Hearts can be broken, and friendships can be lost. Connections can be disconnected, but at the end of the day, I am me and you are you.

Maybe I'm a romanticist, but I feel like we have lost a bit of humanity as a whole. Selfishness has taken a front seat to worrying about others. Yes, this is sappy as hell, and yes, I am making this out like it's doomsday 2012. But it's not. I can still reconnect. I can still find it within me to care about the people I'm around. Life hasn't been easy, but life isn't supposed to be easy. We struggle because we are human. We struggle because we are infallible. In the end, though, we succeed because of those around us. We succeed because others care. We hurt. But because of these things, we see beauty, and passion. We see an alternative to the daunting world ahead of us.

So, in conclusion to the cheesiest, most red blooded blog I've ever posted, all I have to say is this; love the man or woman next to you, merry Christmas, and if you don't come to our show on January 1st, I'm going to punch you in the mouth.

*Any Vampire Weekend comments... get real.