I really used to love Christmas. It used to be my favourite holiday
by a loooong way. Not sure what it was: the excitement of Santa, the fact that
everyone got gifts and not ‘just’ the person whose birthday it was, that it was
about not just food but also gifting, the decorations, the carols, the fun of
secret Santa even into my teens … no idea. Nowadays I’m not sure I have a favourite
holiday. In America it would probably be Memorial Day, Labour Day, or 4th
of July … a good long weekend with food, friends and drink.
But then somewhere along the line my love for Christmas kind
of died. In California I just never got into the spirit … a non-white Christmas
just seemed kind of wrong. Then, when I moved back to the east coast I kind of
got back into it again but there also seemed to be so many people who were SO
down on Christmas. It always bothered me a bit. If you don’t want to get into
the holiday cheer, fine, but for the love of God don’t make everyone else
around you miserable. I think maybe it was the weather and seasonal affective
disorder affecting people in the greater Boston area, I don’t know. But there
is something magical about the autumn turning into the harvest festival of
Thanksgiving, then the days get dark and cold, it snows, you huddle by the fire
and drink hot chocolate and put up your Christmas tree, and maybe go carolling with
candles.
For some reason I’ve been thinking a lot about my teenage
years recently. Maybe it’s that was the last time I really thought of myself as
an athlete. Who the heck knows? But I have this one memory of leaving the gym
in the evening, it was probably around 6pm but it was already dark and I was
rushing out behind Ford O’Connell (the details you remember, geez), we were
late for seated meal and I still had to shower and the moon was glistening on
the newly-fallen snow, which was a thin layer of big snowflakes on top of a
frozen crust. THAT is Christmas to me.
But now I’m all grown up so I don’t need to be romantic,
right? On Christmas Eve I woke up, guilted the washing machine delivery guy
into actually doing what he was supposed to do (hook up my machine and not just
deliver it), did my mobility drills, and went to pick up my friend Keith to go
to the beach.
It was hot: 32.5 C when we got back to the car around 4pm.
That’s about 90 F, so it was probably a few degrees warmer during the heat of
the day. Maybe that was why the water didn’t feel so cold. But as usual it was
a nice mix of getting all hot on the sand, jumping in the water to cool off,
napping, chatting, people-watching, etc. Then we went to get frozen yogurt. There’s
this cool place in Kloof Street where the yogurt tastes like yogurt and not
sugar. And the décor screams Pinkberry ripoff.
Later on that evening I went to a Christmas Eve dinner over
in Sea Point with a bunch of other randoms: expats, people whose families didn’t
live in Cape Town, etc. Sam made me homemade eggnog which was amazing, as was
the food, desserts (eggnog cupcakes! Malva pudding!), and of course Studio 7
wouldn’t be Studio 7 without a performance, in this case a couple quick songs
by Diesel Vanilla. It was lovely, actually, just very chill with some people I
knew well, some people I knew only a little, and some people I met for the
first time. Oh yeah, and the table caught on fire. Briefly. That’s what made it
funny and not tragic.
Of course the wheat went right to my gut and I got a
stomachache, I had managed to get a sunburn on a few places where we missed
spots with the sunscreen and I wanted to get some sleep so I begged out around
midnight. The next morning I woke up and headed over to Pete & Mandy’s
where we first went out to the shops for some last-minute grocery shopping then
took the dogs for a walk. It was even hotter I think than the day before but it
was nice to get the body moving (active rest).
Christmas lunch was actually quite perfect, and then we had
some desserts (more malva pudding with rum & raison ice cream), and
chocolate, and some Irish coffees. I think it was the heat but I was literally
unable to drink alcohol all day; all I was wanting was water. The body is
smart.
I think overall it was an incredibly relaxing holiday. Aside
from on the hike we kept the work chat to a minimum, and talked rather about
dogs, and CrossFit, and the naivete of children. Think of it: of course no
child ever considers the logistics of Santa going to every child’s house all on
one night. Think of the quantum physics. But this also got me thinking, as I
had been mulling over things we take for granted, about the assumptions that we
make as adults. Like: that our politicians represent our interests. Even basic
things we are taught (whole grains are healthy) that turn out actually not to
be true. And don’t even get me started about blatant lying.
Just makes me glad, again, for the people I have in my life.
Although I’m beginning to realise just how much I suck at things I don’t fully commit
to. Workouts slide by at 95% effort, emails go unanswered for days or weeks,
things I meant to accomplish weeks ago remain unstarted, I go out of my way to
make time to see some friends and others not, not so much out of anything other
than inertia or inattention.
Oh well, I’m not perfect. One of these days I’ll quit
trying. Ha, and maybe pigs will fly.
But one thing I can say about Cape Town is that there are
more people happy and smiling at this time of year than I ever saw in Boston.
From the security guards to the SAN Parks staff braaing on Christmas to the
neighbours, everyone is just a little happier than normal. I think it’s the
weather.
- “Uggg! It looks like Coca-Cola threw up all over the beach!” – Keith
- “Don’t you want to do a sport where you’re not, you know, getting injured all the time?” – Keith
- “Does everyone know everyone? Wait, what’s your name?” – Paddy
- “Nothing is permanent in my life. Except for my morals.” – Tintin
- “Um, guys, the table’s on fire.” – Tintin
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