Christmas in Chicago

Alright readers, I want to hear from you about your holiday traditions.  Granted, Christmas is right around the corner, but I want to read about more than just Christmas.  What are you doing with you family, friends and coworkers?  Are you leaving the Chicago area, or is there a specific place in Chicago that you will spent your time at?

Even if you’re not a fan of the holidays, I want to read what you’re up to.

I”ll kick this off with a brief description of my plans after the bump.

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There are a number of people, myself included, who do not care for the holidays (in my case, Christmas).  This is not because we are grinches or scrooges; not all of us who are down on the holidays are upset due to some perceived attack on the holiday.  Some of us don’t like the holidays because we’ve lost some one close to us, and the holidays remind us of what we’ve lost.

Without going into detail, that’s the camp I fall into.  This year, however, I’ve got a plan to take back christmas.  After a brief dinner at my Aunt’s house in suburbia, some my friends and family are going to the Signature Lounge for hot chocolate and booze; followed up with drunken caroling on the north side.  Cabs will be used to ferry us to around the town.

Consider this to be an invitation to join me and few folks for our Holiday Shenanigans.

2 Comments so far

  1. nikkos (unregistered) on December 21st, 2005 @ 2:26 pm

    Officer Gleason-

    I hope that in spite of everything you have a safe, relaxing and joyous holiday!

    Oh, and I hope you catch a wicked good buzz as well.

  2. Elizabeth (unregistered) on December 21st, 2005 @ 2:34 pm

    Ah, Christmas, Hanukah, Kwanzaa, Yule, Solstice.

    I have two great-aunts that are nuns- Sisters Alquin and Marie Therese. I used to have three, but Sister Bernadine died a few years ago. I don’t know if it’s still a common practice for women entering a convent to change their names (like, you know, the pope does) but it used to be – their given names were Anna, Camille, and . . . I can’t remember. Anyway, these nuns, who still wear habits (over wigs) bring every member of my family hand knit booties every year.


    They are made from wool yarn, and come in an assortment of lovely colors and patterns – usually something involving green and red, or dark green and dark red, or, the real wild card, green, red, and white. These booties are really warm,(hot and sweaty, to be precise). They are not generally the right size for your feet, and for the love of god, do not try to walk in them. Knots of stretched woolen yarn feel like small, sharp pebbles between your feet and the floor.

    The tradition is to regift the booties. As much as you possibly can – using force, if necessary. If you have to, hide them in a family members car, or bag, or under their dinner plate. Give the booties to the family cat, or dog. Convince mom that she really wants your booties, as they would make great potholders. (They do not make great potholders. Caution – do not use booties as potholders, you will burn yourself.) In the end, every year, Dad ends up with all the booties. It is not, as you may suspect, because Dad is easy to fool, or because we have stuffed them all between his mattress and box spring, or convinced him that they make really good mittens. It’s just that Dad likes wearing booties.

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