I am a bad Philadelphian. I did not watch the Mummers. If you live and/or breathe within in the Philadelphia County limits, you are obliged to watch the Mummers strut their stuff at the New Year's parade. Hell, the televison wasn't even touched in my house until about an hour ago. I commited a sin in the eyes of all that deem the Mummers holy (most of whom reside in parts of Port Richmond, Fishtown, and South Philly). Christ, maybe I'll get kicked out of the city - ostracized for ignoring the tradition. Ahhh, who am I kidding? I'm not that lucky. "Hell, no! You can stay! We need your ever so important and obnoxiously overcharged city wage tax from your paycheck."
We did go out of the house to my Aunt E's 75th birthday party. Yikes! 75? I love my aunt and uncle. Truly I do. But the thought of hanging around a group of people that clearly recall the end of WWII was not what I wanted on the first day of the new year. Geo had the same dreary thought. "We'll go in, give the card, grab cake, and tell them we're on a tight schedule. Ten minutes tops." That would have been perfect except we had the Dinks. She walked in and everyone wanted to see her. Damn, we were trapped. Mom and dad were there, too, so, of course, they had to show her off to all who cared. And even those who didn't care got to meet the Dinks. We were stuck.
But then, something happened. We started having a good time. Perish the thought. We were actually the LAST ones to leave. Geo had so much fun talking to my aunt and uncles' sons and their families. No, they are not my cousins just as my Aunt E and my Uncle T are not my aunt and uncle. But tha's what I've called them all of my life so that's that. You understand. They're actually my godparents. Not that that means anything. I just wrote it for filler. Anywho, Geo and I had fun. And Dinks made a few new "uncles" and "aunts".
So ends my first day of the new year. I relaxed, was fed, met with people I haven't talked to in ages, and had a good time. Not a bad start.