REID #117

Dec 27, 2022

SHORT:

It’s 30 degrees in Florida. My brother is outside in the hot tub singing “Hey Brother” by Avicii to himself.

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MEDIUM:

We’re finishing up another absolutely stimulating winter break in the south “helping” my dad’s extended Catholic family celebrate Christmas (my Jewish mom doesn’t let us say we “celebrate Christmas”, we HELP — the difference is monumental! — don’t ask me why or how).

I have spent the last 3 days sitting in the airbnb watching a big bird walk back and forth in front of the living room window and peck at a dead fish that washed up on the shore outside.

My mom is currently telling us about how she felt “redeemed” by an episode of the SmartLess podcast hosted by Will Arnett, Jason Bateman, and Sean Hayes ft. Jack Black (because Jack Black talked about how, when he named the film Tenacious D, he meant D like “defense” not “dick”, so we need to stop laughing at her when she screams “BIG D!” during football games because she means defense, not dick).

My brother has just shimmied back in through the screen door and announced that “Avicii’s not dead!” — I assume cuz he’s keeping his memory alive through a cappella performance to empty bay beaches in Anna Maria, Florida? Or maybe he really thinks Avicii is secretly alive… I didn’t ask… he’s moved on to explaining how “the ocean needs more iron” while dripping now-icy hot tub liquid onto the airbnb carpet (that my dad thinks “looks like his carpet back home” but my mom thinks “actually it doesn’t”).

^ The holidays are all about your dad thinking one thing and your mom thinking another. Then your sister will announce she’s going on a run. And your brother will continue talking about how the ocean needs more iron. You’ll make a joke about how he should throw a Flintstone vitamin in2 the waves (cuz they’re high in iron) and he’ll say, “no, that won’t work”.

Repeat that x5 days? And you’ve got yourself a winter break.

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LONG:

It wasn’t a bad Christmas, all things considered (a few years ago my grandpa fell and broke his hip on Christmas Eve, a few years before that my grandma ran her electric scooter into the plastic Christmas tree and hit her head on the wall and blood went flying).

This year, my great aunt arrived with an eye problem (one won’t open), and my grandpa immediately said, “why are you winking at me?” (which started things off on an amazing note). My brother made a vat full of “dirty snowmen” (spiked hot chocolate drinks) which was good but … explosive a few hours later … and then we spent most of the night making sure our cousin’s 6 month old puppy didn’t fall into the backyard “canal” where my older cousin Nick catches lizards and fish (for my devoted REIDers, yes, this is the cousin who won his school talent show by dribbling a basketball with two live geckos hanging from his ears like earrings).

On my way to Florida, I watched airport women in red bows get screamed at within an inch of their lives by airport customers as a child at my gate shouted about how “New York’s never been the same since the twin towers went down”. Our plane itself was delayed an hour because “the gears overheated but we’re just gonna fly with them down, which is sort of like when you put your hand out the window on the highway.” I felt… not amazing about those words, but I didn’t jump up and run off the plane because … well… I don’t know why.

As we managed to take off and ascend, I stared out the window and thought about how two guys just figured out how to make an airplane. If two dudes can figure out how to shoot me into the air so I float above the clouds, watch the sunset, and then land in a whole different state where u can’t say gay, I can figure out how to do my taxes. One day. The Wright Brothers and the Reid … Solo Tax Do-er. It’ll happen.

When I arrived at the Sarasota airport on the way here, my Uber driver had a million pictures of Jesus all over his car and was blasting country music. One particularly song spoke to me. It contained the lyric “half of me wants a cold beer the other half does too” — pretty brilliant. I remember once asking my brother why he likes country music and he said “because it makes him feel like he’s outside”. I wonder if it makes the Jesus Uber driver feel like that too. I wonder what it feels like when they play country music outside. Is it like when you pour water on yourself in a pool?

If my flight gets canceled tomorrow, I don’t know what I’ll do. My uncle’s flight to Ohio got canceled, and he decided it was better to drive 18 hours home in a van with his 3 boys, wife, and in laws, then stay one more day on this frozen-over island. His kids will probably talk the drive in therapy one day. But I think it was the right call.

I need to stop writing this, because my mom’s talking about buccal fat (Christmas bingo card is now complete!)

I hope you all made the yuletide even gayer than it inherently is (Jews r always talking about how the Talmud as 8 genders, but Christianity has 9: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen, Rudolph).

I’m going to go take my 3rd hot shower of the day because there’s no heat in this house.

C u next Tuesday.