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My Jewish Christmas

Christmas just isn’t the same when your mom is in Texas remarried to someone with lots of grandchildren to spoil and your dad is known in the general population as #13A64B7. So, instead of doing nothing and seeming ultimately dejected, Marc and I were going to drive to upstate to Putnam County and spend Christmas like Jews — eating chinese food and watching a movie. Since the weather didn’t cooperate as far as driving conditions go (they had a foot of snow before 6:00AM), we left the Cabrio parked in it’s spot.

We bundled ourselves up and walked, or skated rather, on a thin sheet of ice to the theater for an afternoon showing of Catch Me if You Can. This is the perfect holiday movie. It’s energetic and requires little thought as it weaves the true tale of Frank Abagnale. Leonardo DiCaprio is genuine and endearing and the movie is without over-the-top Hollywood gimics. Although critics might think it’s lacking a true crescendo, I say ppffttt on them. It didn’t need one to make it a charming tale worth seeing.

Dinner afterwords was so nice because the snow was falling hard and fast outside our window while we were inside warm and dry eating pizza and enjoying each other’s company. There were a few people sitting at the bar drinking alone and a few solo diners. They looked so sad with long faces and far off gazes. I felt like an ass for feeling bad about not having a family with whom to celebrate. At least I have Marc, even if he hates my Goyim holidays. And, really, what am I missing? Watergate Salad? Who needs it when I have Marc’s french toast for breakfast and this time…I GOT powdered sugar!

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