Last night my mother’s cousin and my father’s cousin both visited us and after spending some time in the kitchen around appetizers and drinks, we all moved into the living room where my sister turned on the Wii. My dad and his cousin played for awhile but then Claire wanted to play. They flipped from electronic darts to shuffleboard where you need to swing the remote to compete. Claire grabbed a remote and more or less challenged everyone in the room. She’d never played Wii before but quickly picked up the idea of how to play. Within an hour, she was beating everyone at Wii shuffle board and was ready to move onto Mario Kart.

The other evening I was “hanging” with my family while Donna and Claire were off at her parent’s, and my father was having his annual Christmas dinner for the girls in his office. Partners are strictly forbidden unless you are a part-owner and because of his own self-imposed rule, his own son wasn’t permitted to attend. I was with my mother in South Side near the restaurant already due to shopping but I wasn’t allowed because then the girls would bitch about their boyfriend/best friend/father of their child who couldn’t come along. I told my mother it was all ok, and that I was going to walk the streets of South Side since it was my old stomping grounds. She gave me her bus pass and sent me on my way. If you know South Side this next part’ll make sense. If not, that’s why Google made Street View.

I walked from the Hot Metal Bridge area near Cheese Cake Factory down to Primanti’s at 19th Street. Primanti’s is a staple of Pittsburgh, and I got my favorite Pastrami no tomatoe add egg extra cheese and a Yeungling. Yum! I wolfed down the food, pulled my hat over my ears and kept going. It was dark out, and I had called my sister to meet me after work near the mall by my parent’s where the trolley terminated. At 14th street I walked into The Beehive where I use to spend almost every evening when I was in grad school and some years in high school; it’s changed a bit since then, but it always has memories for me. I got a coffee to warm up, shot some photos of my DSLR shoved in my coat, and walked outside. I stopped across the street where there use to be a bank that was now a bar. After 20 minutes of waiting and tweeting from my phone to record my journey, the bus came. I flashed my mum’s pass and road down towards Station Square.

After jumping from the bus, I ran across East Carson to the trolley. I shot some photos while waiting 10 minutes for the trolley to the Village. Then I went to send another message, but no phone. Uh oh. No PHONE! I checked my pockets. Got my iTouch, point&shoot, wallet, bus pass, Canon, scraps of paper, gloves, and hat. NO PHONE! Trolley came. I didn’t get on. I let it pass by me, and I retraced my steps back across the busy road, looking for a smashed BlackBerry in the road. Nothing. I looked at everyone on a phone and wonderered. Then I walked back up the trolley ramp. The next one came. I got on. I’d given up. I sat down and waited for my stop 20 minutes later.

Across the aisle was a lady chatting away on the phone about only God knows what, and when she hanged up I asked if I could use her phone to call my ride. She agreed but then her stop came up as it rang. I handed it back, and thanked her. I sat there wondering if my sister, Meghan, would be there to pick me up in the cold winter night. I finally walked to the front of the train and asked a man if I could use his BlackBerry; he agreed.

I called Meghan, she answered, and immediately said “they found your phone!” My heart lept. I told her I was close and almost there. She said she’d been waiting. I jumped from the trolley after wondering if I had to shell out hundreds for a new phone and climbed into her car. She told me the bus driver had my phone and it’d be at the Collier Garage after midnight. I asked where the hell the Collier Garage was. Meghan said it was in Bridgeville, which wasn’t far from my parent’s new place. I texted my mum from Meghan’s phone and since she use to live in the area, said she’d drive me later.

At 11:40pm we left for Bridgeville and I walked into the Port Authority Transit dispatch at midnight with my ID card. As the man handed over my phone, he said no one usually picked up lost and found that quickly and he wished me a Merry Christmas.

Yes Virigina, There still are nice people in this world.

Since my parents bought a new house and had more room and since we’d not spent Christmas Eve night at my parent’s in years, it was time. Earlier in the day Donna and Claire met us there while I pretended to help my sister cook dinner. Later after dinner, Claire didn’t want to go to bed. She was waiting for Santa, and all I was waiting for her was for her to fall asleep sdo I can drag a crapload of presents out of my parent’s basement to put around the tree. This is the first year where I had to keep two things in mind. 1) Claire would recognize if grandparent and Santa gifts came in the same wrapping paper, and 2) we cannot put any presents under the tree before she goes to sleep on Christmas Eve.

As I always expect with Claire, she never wants to go to sleep. And since it was Christmas Eve, she was even more excited than usual. By 11:00pm everyone was way sick of waiting for her to go down by herself and something had to be done. Uncle Jaime, my brother, decided to climb into the attic and take matters into his own hands.

Over the couch, through the roof, suddenly Santa and his reindeer were loudly walking around on the roof, preparing to come down one of my parent’s chimneys. (Yes, I know she’s smart, so I kept one chimney/fireplace free from a fire that night incase she asked!) Claire, sitting on the couch full dressed, looked towards the ceiling, looked around at her people and bolted to the bedroom. Donna followed her into the bedroom, as Claire grabbed her PJs and threw herself onto the bed.

“Mama, help me get changed! I need to go to sleep now! Santa’s here!” She screamed as she stripped her clothes before throwing herself into bed.

Thank you, Uncle Jaime.

Last night we took the kids to zoo lights but not before Claire was horsing around with Eli. I was sitting at the table waiting for Terrie to get ready when all of a sudden Eli shouts “Claire knocked my tooth out!” It was one of those moments were you freeze and wait for a giggling punch line and then there is none. I quickly began counting years on my fingers to see how old Eli was, and I realized I had no idea how old children are when they’re suppose to lose teeth. Suddenly the house erupted as his mothers became very excited about his losing his first tooth, and I as relieved that we were ok and not going to be thrown out of the house for destroying their son.

After the excitement of the tooth being yanked from his face, dropping it on the white tile, finding it, dropping it again, and finally putting it in a ziploc bag for the tooth fairy, we headed to the zoo. The Phoenix Zoo has “zoo lights” which is one of the largest outdoor light displays in our state.

After Eli and Claire got out of their respective trucks, they took each other’s hand and Angelika and I rolled our eyes as they spent the next two hours inseparable, running through the zoo hand in hand, checking out all of the lights, looking for animals in the dark, and enjoying the evening.

Ok, I think it’s time to comment on this one. One day in 1984 I was walking home from school and my parents drove by. I waved them down and hopped into the car. They told me they were off to look at houses because before that we’d been renting, and it was time to move on. We went to this three story cape code on a major highway. The former former occupant had died on the first floor master bedroom and the basement had nice wood paneling. The next day I wrote the address on my wooden desk at school. This was midyear. Within a month we were moved into this new house on Curry Hollow Road. I finished grade 4-6 at two local elementary schools and spent junior high and high school in that house. I can begin to tell you some of the stories in that house, and some others will never leave my lips. I visited home through undergrad and then moved home (into the dead lady’s room) for all of grad school. My brother has lived there for 24 years now. My sister about 20. I lived there for a good part of two decades myself. The house isn’t the largest, the yard isn’t the biggest, and it’s on a highway. In 1993 I became a man in that downstairs basement. Through the early 1990s my cousin courted his now wife and mother of 3 children while spending most weekends living in that same basement. In early 1994 I got my largest tattoo to date on my parent’s dining room table in that house. In spring of 1995 the house caught fire. The basement was destroyed, half the first floor. That same basement where I was sleeping on a December morning in 1994 when I was informed my grandmother was dead. That same house where I lay in an upstairs bedroom with fever and chills in 1988 and was shortly diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease. The house where I met with my tutors through Jr High when I couldn’t go to school. The same house from which we all three graduated from high school. The home to which my sister headed after a stint in Colorado and, years early, my brother after another in South Bend, Indiana.

My parents are getting older. Dad has bad knees (over weight, skied for four decades). Mom has bad knees (baker’s cysts), bionic hip and a terrible back (sciatic and discs). Did I mention the house has three floors? You can’t even get to the living room without going up a flight of stairs or two… and in the snow and ice, it’s even worse. They need one floor.

Now, I come to say this. It looks like I will never ever be in that house again. Never. Ever. My parents are selling it. They too are moving on like Donna and I did a decade ago. They aren’t going as far. My parents are prepared to put in a bid on a single story (with a huge basement) large home in Canonsburg, PA. We shall see if they get it.

When they talked about moving, we always told them to go for it! Curry Hollow has always been small, too small for two dogs, three children, two parents, a parade of boy friends, girl friends, friend friends, and our own families now. Mum began looking more earnestly after Christmas (now that the economy sucks and you can get a good deal); she liked the Thomas Road house, but I didn’t realize my father would run our the day after tax season to look, too. When he’s ready, my father acts quickly. Too quickly almost for me right now.

My uncle (Dad’s little brother) is in town. They all went to view this Thomas Road house yesterday, and today my parents began packing our house. Yes, Ours, still. I’ve not lived there in a decade, but I am really town now between being happy for them to have the room they need and the lack of stairs, etc… but it’s like I can never go home now. There will be nothing familiar at all with it. No sleeping on the back porch in the summer, listening to New Kids on the Block and getting my ear pierced when I was 12, or the pond where I froze my snapping turtle to death by accident. Nothing. When they say you can never go home again, now I really get it.

This feels like it’s becoming a reality. We talked about new carpets for 15 years and they are doing it now… to sell our family home. We talked about new bathroom model. Now, they are doing it. The basement acoustic ceiling has been falling down for 15 years, my uncle and brother replaced it today. Today. Took 1 day. I waited 15 years, and I will never see the ceiling, the hardwood, the paint. I will get off the plane at Christmas and go to someone’s weird unrecognizable house.

It seems that every Christmas someone ends up at Urgent Care. Claire went last year and again this year for coughing, but this year they thought she developed a cough because it was cold and snowy and then got really warm really quickly. They said she wasn’t contagious and to have a nice day.

The next morning I woke up congested. That was 3 1/2 days ago. By this morning I thought I was going to die. I was completely congested, my head throbbed, and my nose wouldn’t stop running. I grabbed my clothes and headed straight to urgent care. The doctor took one look at me and told me she hoped I had no where to be. My temperature was 103.6 and my blood pressure was 140/90. She did a strep throat culture and x-rayed my chest, before she had the nurse come in and put an IV in. She said she’d prefer me to go nowhere until they brought down both my fever and my blood pressure. They ran an IV of Toridol and I laid there and slept for an hour.

Later she came back in and told me I had pneumonia and a sinus infection. Well, no crap. Anyone could tell me that I had a sinus infection. But the pneumonia was news to me. Damnit. I feel terrible, but Toridol sure helped. I headed to Walgreen’s to buy like 20 different drugs before driving to my parent’s house. Now I sit here on their couch waiting for Penn State to kill USC in the Rose Bowl.

Sometime in the early 1990s during high school I began hanging out at the Beehive Coffeehouse on East Carson Street in the Southside of Pittsburgh. Some of my earlier memories were when it was only one store front wide (now it’s three), and we’d play Galaga in the back room by the leather couch. The female manager had blonde and pink hair, and she’d sleep back there. This must’ve been about later 1990 or early 1991. I know this because I could drive then, and I had my blue Dodge Colt. I remember several months where I’d make sure I came down here once a day even if it was just to grab a coffee and play some video games. In the summer, the doors would be open and it’d be muggy as hell here.

After high school I went away to Penn State , but none of the State College coffee houses could do this place justice. I would return on weekends and summers, and always be here. I knew the people from the locals who hung out here to the baristas (some of whom are still here!). I remember in 1992 seeing Jason Szalla hang work he did at Baldwin High School from the ceiling in the Beehive. I remember the different people who’d flirt with each other, and some of the girls who flirted with me. One of whom, in the late 1990s, I still know. Alicia talked to me one night for hours. She was a Fordham student who loved iguanas and worked at VH1. We still know her, and she is still here.

I remember playing cards here through the mid-1990s. Spades was the game, and each night we’d have several tables going all at once. Elliot was a character, and we can to really enjoy his company. One guy we played with had to run off to not go to jail. I think his name was Fruit. An odd fellow. Another guy was just wild. Donna and I ruled the table by this time.

Occasionally famous people would walk in. I saw Patrick Stewart near the front one night, and another night I met Robert Downey Jr buying coffee. He suggested I read Wonderboys which they were filming nearby. I read it that night at a front table. The whole thing.

I remember grad school. The Beehive was the place to study. I’d walk across the 10th street bridge from Duquesne University, and it didn’t matter if it was -10 with the wind chill factor. I’d still do it. I would sit here and write, read, study. I remember bringing my first laptop down here for the first time.

By this time my mother was hanging out here too. Everyone called her Mum. Even the old people. She was everyone’s mother. The funny thing was when we, her biological children, called her “mum” no one knew we were really the children. Jaime got in with Scott and Z the owners, and he followed them from project to project. I buried myself in books when I had to study and cards when I had some time off.

In the summer of 1998, I was in the Beehive when Donna returned from school for the summer. We were just friends then and nothing was going on. I told her to meet me at the Beehive. I still remember sitting in a large red booth ten feet from where I sit when she came in the door. That was May. By July we were back together, and we spent much of that summer in the Beehive.

By fall I was student teaching at Mt Lebanon High School and Donna was back at Lockhaven for her senior year. One night we went out to Dee’s, and I got drunk. I decided to head to the Beehive to sit it off and get some coffee. One of my students walked in! Not the best idea (although I was of age).

By summer of 1999 Donna and I were engaged and moved to Arizona. Alicia came to the wedding; she framed shots of the Beehive for us. Black and whites of some things we will never forget.

Since then, the first few years we’d try to come in. Slowly, it was shifting. We knew less people. The building expanded to a second nonsmoking room (perfect since it was always smokey in here!). My Mum stopped coming and Meghan moved to Colorado.

Until today now I could not tell you the last time I was here. 2005? 2004? People grow and change, but this place. This place stays the same. It’s always for those memories. Today I sit here. Christmas 2008 wondering when I will be back here. Maybe next Christmas (have no trips planned to PA until then), or maybe it won’t be until Claire is older and I can tell her the stories. We will see.

In July 1994 I was dating Donna and her parent’s invited me to join them at Donna’s grandparent’s house in Warren, PA for the 4th of July. Donna and I’d been dating for a month at the time, and I’d be lying to say I was the most welcome boyfriend. I agreed to the trip, and Mom (as she is now and wasn’t then) drove Donna and I up to Warren. I remember sitting in the back with her singing Meatloaf songs. I love the house, which they built years and years ago when the huge oaks on their lot were saplings. I met the family that weekend, and we had a great time at the fireworks. Since then I’ve been back several times, and the most recent visit is now.

Donna and I haven’t brought Claire up here together since she was about 13 months old. That was the last time I was here, although Claire’s been here since when Donna and I were in Europe.

I adore coming here and eagerly agreed when Donna suggested we try to visit this Christmas. See, when I was younger I spent quite a bit of time camping, fishing, hunting and backpacking with my dad, cousins, and siblings in areas all around the small town, Warren, PA, where Donna’s grandparent’s live. We drive through and near areas like Franklin, Oil City, Tidoute, Tionesta, Kinzua, etc… Every time we drive up here, memories flood; this is probably why I always enjoy this trip.

This trip is a short one. Claire has a bad cough, so we headed to Urgent Care this morning to check her out. After getting a clear bill of health, Donna, her father, Claire and I drove north. We’ve spent the evening with her grand parent’s and Donna’s aunt and uncle.

Tomorrow we drive back to Pittsburgh, and those memories again flood my mind as head south.

We flew home last week, and the grandparents sure did spoil Claire this Christmas. For the past several years we’ve stayed at my parent’s house for Christmas Eve, so Claire could wake up and open gifts there. This year Donna wanted a bit of a change, and since now my sister and brother both (including my sister’s boyfriend) were all at my parent’s house, we really didn’t have a place to sleep there. On Christmas Eve we hung out around my in-laws house before heading to my parent’s house for dinner. It was me, Donna, Claire, Dad, Mum, Jaime, Meghan, Jon and Johann (not to mention the ancient mutt under foot and Cheyenne, the orange cow (as Claire calls my dad’s golden retriever who is way TOO Fat!), my mum’s cat, and my sister’s twin black cats. All crammed into a cape cod style house is enough to make my mother demand a new house before Christmas 2009.

After dinner, we three headed to our annual Christmas party at Tom and Paula’s house in West Mifflin where we’d meet up with the in-laws and brother-in-law, Danny. Claire had a great time playing with the little girl who is a year older than her; they only see each other every Christmas Eve and the last two years they’ve been old enough to care about playing with each other. After the group photo and some well wishes, we headed back to my in-laws around midnight.

When Donna and Danny were younger the family supposedly opened presents later, but now that Claire’s here, she was up and at ‘em relatively early (not as early as I liked to open when I was young!). She got some outfits, several toys (mostly educational type things), and some other gear. I bought her a blue and pink Timbuk2 customized tote, which she always told everyone were her favorite colors (until this week, when she says she now likes purple and green! Ugh). Her old swim bag was falling apart, and these bags are so well made that she can use it for years to come.

As for the wife, she’d been asking for a new digital camera. Her old one was a few years old and really sluggish. I’d been searching for the perfect one for a few months, and I finally got a great deal at CostCo. Personally, I’d been drooling over the MinoHD Flip video cameras. Donna had shown interest in one on Black Friday, but I knew for a little more I could get the nice HD model. This gift had been near the front of the pile of gifts since I’d been eager to give her one for weeks! She loved both gifts and the other little things. My in-laws got me Ebay gift cards, which’ll work well for a new sleeping bag. Danny got Donna a gift card for Sprint to buy the new purple Lotus that she keeps drooling over (she’s not gotten a new phone since 2004!). I can’t wait to get him to take her to Sprint.

Later after lunchtime, we went to my parent’s. Claire fell asleep in the car so we all opened “big people” gifts for awhile until she woke up. Donna bought me the Charlaine Harris’ (TrueBlood) vampire books; I didn’t know they came in a box set so I was totally stoked when I opened them. I got her a Timbuk2 gift card so she could order herself a bag, since she really wanted to pick her own. My parents got both of us Apple gift cards (Donna towards a new MacBook and me towards maybe Bose earphones). Claire got dolls, some clothes, etc… She got the blue cat (from Mama) and the pink doggie (from Auntie Meghan via Santa), and she was totally stoked.

Meghan and Jon made out with Wii and Rock Band 2. We hooked up the Wii and played Rock Band late into the night, but we have no idea how to unlock the codes. (Comment below if you do know. We have to cheat codes, but can’t figure out HOW to input them.)

Christmas was a blessed day with thoughtfulness, happiness and family.

Merry Christmas. Here’s my father singing O Holy Night in Karaoke. LOL.

Untitled from Devon Adams on Vimeo.