The Santa gig and a brush with death.

For the second consecutive year, I was drafted to play Santa for the little kids on Christmas Eve. This is quite an event in my family with over 30 people on the Nelson side converging on one house for the traditional turkey, ham, mash potatoes, and stuffing dinner. Most of my cousins now have children ranging in age from 1 to 8. The one person that these kids never see is yours truly, so my mom has coerced me into dressing as the jolly old elf for the benefit of the youngsters.

Those who have children know that when they are toddlers, the sight of a guy in a cheap Wal-mart Santa suit peering through flowing white whiskers bellowing "Ho, ho, ho!" can be quite the traumatic experience. And as they get older, they either gaze on in wide-eyed wonderment or scoff at the ridiculously fake-looking costume. My cousin Ron's son Jesse, a comedic ham in his own right, gave me some quick acting lessons before I got into character. The kid is 9 (I think) years old and he's instructing me on the subtle mannerisms of St. Nick. He's a sharpie. There he is with Zach, another kid too smart to be fooled. Tough to impress those two clowns.


This year, I managed to impress one little girl, my cousin Darren's daughter, Ava, and the look on her face was worth the sweaty, embarrassing experience. The rest of the little ones, including my nephew Griffin, reacted with screaming horror. All the parents got that quintessential photo-op of their kid with the big guy but unfortunately my camera ran out of battery juice when running on video mode. I'll see if I can scrounge up some footage from one of the relatives and post it on youtube for your amusement. I was able to capture a frame of some grainy footage off a video that looked like it had been shot by someone stricken with Parkinson's. You can barely pick out a stunned child about to burst into tears. My favorite part is a proud mother and my grandma who looks just as excited as the kids!

The rest of my Christmas break was quite uneventful. My mom, who doted on me the whole time I was home (that's what good moms do, no matter how old the kid gets), took me shopping for shoes and work clothes. It was great to find things that actually fit me! I have completely given up on shopping over here. Apparently, I'm considered to be freakishly huge in Poland and the things I do find that fit me cost a hefty sum.

There were many other visits to family and friends with a lot of good bonding going on. It's nice knowing you're missed, and especially gratifying when some are planning on flying across the pond to come see you. This includes my parents and younger brother Dave who are arriving towards the end of April. It should be a great experience having them along for the journey to Slovenia and Croatia.


After a frenetic week that included the swim meet, the obligatory visits to the finer taverns in Hibbing, and my battle with jet-lag, it caught up with me. I managed to get quite sick and it lingered in my body the last week I was stateside. Attending the wedding of an old friend was not as enjoyable when you are near death's door with body aches, fever, and a phlegm-gargling cough. Try as I might to douse this cold with free libations, I was forced to drag myself up to the hotel room at 10 PM, well before my normal bedtime. My dreams of dancing the night away with a stunningly beautiful bridesmaid were dashed. I did however get this sweet pic with my friend Bag. We had it framed and sent off to our former roomie and rugby teammate, Benihana Steiner. He was also married over Christmas break. It was a small affair, and we weren't invited but this is what we would've looked like had we been able to attend:


New Year's Eve was also a total bust, spent at my brother's place on the couch, in the fetal position.

The big Boise State Fiesta Bowl victory, and the bonding time with Griffin, were the highpoints of my time spent overcoming illness. I'm just thankful that my brother Paul and his wife Jennifer allowed my germ-ridden carcass to bunk there for a week. I could've taken out their whole household with the infection I had.


Now that I'm back here in Poland, it's nice to be settling back into the routine of things. Back to the daily challenge of linguistic confusion, and the quiet solitude of my apartment that already looks like I have visitors. Maybe I should unpack . . .