BY Terrance Gavan
Me old Da loved Christmas.
Trouble is.
Christmas was not overmuch fond of me old Da.
Chip and sway your way through the following video.
It's a short epic detailing the travails of a drunken Santa who's been celebrating the end of a long shift in an English shopping mall.
 Image via Wikipedia |
| Yes look at the nose and tell me please ... does this Santa like a wee dram every now and then? Of course ... but catch the video at the end of the blog for funny drunk Kris. |
It reminded me of my dad.
Old Da worked in the civil service in Ottawa.
But he was jovial enough to play Santa.
And he did possess enough of an advanced beer belly to jiggle in all the right places.
He loved kids almost as much as he loved beer, Drambuie and several brands of vodka.
I took a look at this video and was immediately struck with a notion that if Da had been a Santa at Billings Bridge shopping centre ... who knows.
Dad died on Christmas Day in 1973.
People often ask how that Christmas Day was for me.
And I'm almost embarassed to tell them.
For 18 years I never knew where my dad was or if he would get home in time for supper.
"Where's Phil?" The question would elicit a veritable shower of response.
"He was at the Bytown Tavern this morning," "I heard he was in Queon visiting Lennox at the Gavan's Hotel." "Gordie phoned and they had a few at Angie's"
He usually made it home on time. But the excitement was always palpable.
So I tell people that the thing I remember most about that Christmas when Dad died on a bed in intensive care from liver failure.
That I knew exactly where he was.
He was resting comfortably in a coffin down at McEvoy and Shields.
he wasn't late for dinner.
But he was missed.
For you Da.
And in the spirit of altruism, love and bonhomie.
We present:
Party on Santa ... Safe home tonight!
No comments:
Post a Comment