by Mary Brady
My favorite Christmas memory comes from the desert. Palm Springs desert, to be exact, a place not known as a winter wonderland. Several years ago I decided to skip the holidays entirely signing up to dog sit for friends who also wanted to be somewhere other than home for the holidays. So Jeb, a smelly geriatric toy poodle, and I commiserated over daily medical shampoos, binging TCM and sampling my friends’ Trader Joe inspired wine cupboard – for the entire month of December.The poor creature smelled so bad it was truly a challenge to cuddle him in my lap, but I did. He was pathetic and adorable and stunk to high heaven, shampoos to no avail. Even riding in the golf cart, Jeb’s unmistakable aroma wafted about us like Pigpen’s cloud. An irascible skin problem was the cause, no cure in sight. Nonetheless, my visit to the desert was pleasantly punctuated by forays to the Mary Pickford theater, seeing longhorn sheep at a zoo and (symbolically enough) standing on the Continental Divide during a visit from my brother and wife, as well as a memorable brunch with a 14-carat genuine celebrity. Palm Springs, aka Hollywood East, also sports the most incredible Goodwill store in the country. And some damn good dried fruits.
In the midst of all this excitement, on a sunny day in December, I contacted a gay couple to whom my ancient therapist back in Baltimore had provided an introduction. They immediately invited me to their palatial, Sunset Boulevardesque home and we spent an evening getting acquainted over GNT’s. They had both been doctors and activists in San Francisco during AIDS. I had been relieved of an incurable voice disorder by a pioneering doctor there. They were good listeners and amazingly generous bartenders as well as very funny/interesting hosts.
A week later they followed up with an invitation to attend their family Christmas party. I took a long shower to remove Eau de Jeb, dolled up and headed over with a dumb gag gift. I expected to feel like an outsider, but was immediately made to feel like one of the tribe.
Was their family Christmas party ever a gas! The extended family of twenty vivacious and friendly folks was represented by a photographic“ Family Tree” – consisting wholly of the photos and fully detailed bios of everyone’s DOGS. The food was delicious, the gift exchange hilarious, and I have never enjoyed a Christmas gathering more than this one spent among complete strangers.
I followed up by spending my NY Eve birthday with another couple of delightful strangers and a strangely delightful old friend. Stinky poodle and all, it was a spectacular and totally unexpected celebratory holiday season. Could lowering my expectations have made room for delight, or did I just get lucky? If so, this year in the midst of the Plague should be great, too. However, I’m not counting on it. And maybe this one precious memory, still making me smile, is enough.
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