This week’s writing challenge is about Christmas and Christmas Eve’s past and, well, Christmas is not a happy time for me. At all. And if I reflect on it I will depress you all terribly. Hell, it’s Christmas day 2013, and I had to cancel my vacation because I have the flu, and this is not the worst Christmas I’ve ever had. As an alternative to depressing you all with my life, I decided to compile a Top 10 List of my favorite Pokey stories in honor of my gran, who I just saw for the holidays, and who is about to pass onto the next world.
That this is less sad than if I reflected on past Christmases, which should give you a good idea of how bad those had been. Pokey dying is tragic in that all lives lost are tragic, but Pokey is quite old (eighty-six), quite frail, rather ill, and she has a reputation for being a mean, racist old sod. She is British and so 1) I am using British slang, and 2) You have to imagine all these things being said in a British accent.
Pokey’s awfulness and the stories that have come out of it have been a cornerstone of my comedic storytelling for years, and I will miss Pokey’s aggressive meanness because there will be no more Pokey stories soon. A few days ago I watched her struggle to lift a teacup to her be-dentured mouth, and I imagined her shaking with rage instead of with frail oldness because, for me, there is something comforting in that. Without further ado I present to you, the Top Ten Pokey Stories:
10) The Terrorist Letter – In college I relieved a long letter from Pokey informing me that the universities were full of terrorists who had come to America to learn from us, date our women, and then explode everything with bombs, etc. She cautioned me to only date non-foreigners that were white, because she mistrusts all non-white people. This is her forgetting that she is a British ex-pat whose hobbies include tanning and being in love with Tiger Woods (we never had the heart to tell her that he wasn’t a WASP).