When I once again checked and made plans on my Panama diary, I could not believe it would be Christmas in three weeks! Never mind that I’ve been hearing Christmas carols since Halloween. That was voodoo Christmas!
It came to mind when I realized I had to start thinking of what to do for Christmas for some very special and inspiring girls and women I was working with. Every Christmas, my friend Cristina Garcia and I would cook up a special something for them. So when I came to my senses and delivered my Christmas promise to the women, I worked on my own little Christmas.
Christmas is also a time when I start hacking like a stage one Bubonic plague victim. All the pre-holiday celebrations are marked with loads of cigs. The one last nasty thing on my menu! I swear, next year will be all about Chupa Chups and will be hack-free. It’s an unglamorous habit despite what Breakfast at Tiffany’s may hint. I remember calling Chut or Wendy, hacking, “Whered — hack! hack! — iz the — hack! hack! — next party?” I once had to be put on Ventolin or something of that sort.
I’m so in hack mode right now that my regular room at the Ritz, which is smoking, made the whole short holiday unbearable. The hotel was full and I could not change. The Auschwitz aroma of day-old Marlboro stink made me vow to quit smoking. Hack, hack.
I come from a family of politicians and that always meant thinking bulk for the holidays. However, I always wanted my holiday gift to have something personal. Each year, I made a special Christmas card to give to friends whether it was a shot of my dog in an ill-fitting Santa outfit or my first Christmas tree in Polaroid.
I also even forgot to make a tree. It was a tradition I had with Marcel. We ate grilled cheese and hot chocolate while we decided on our Christmas tree theme.
One year we had a Victorian tree, filled with angels decked in Victorian gowns and loads of ribbons. Marcel hated it but conceded anyway seeing how I excited I was with the drag show. Then we had a puppy tree the year we got Caligula, filled with dog bones and puppy ornaments. Being single during the holidays, I was busy filling my weekends with getting the eff out of here, making my miles work it until the recession ate it up from desperation.
I swear, I’ve never seen so many airports. I knew I’ve been to too many when the people in the airport said to me the last time I flew, “Ma’am ikaw na naman!” as I boarded yet another flight.
So, on that last trip, I decided to create a list. My Christmas list used to run to 200 or more. I usually had a uniform gift for everyone, politico-style, but tried to make it cool nonetheless. My favorite was specially made candles with bespoke scents that were inspired by my “Year of Exotic Travel.” They smelled so yummy that my old buddy DJ Manolet Dario put them on the fridge because he thought they were cakes!
Last year was blackout Christmas. I had 25 people on my list and left for London on Dec. 7 till further notice. This year, almost what feels like two lifetimes, it’s a David Benoit Christmas in Manila. Sure I forgot to plan because I was busy having fun! The moment I remembered, first I planned the usual Christmas party for the staff of my friends — imagine the gossip in that party! This has always been a hit with them! They went home always happy and they all were a barkada since my crew and I were stuck to one another like glue. Then I drew up my list, a poignant 15. Well done, Lopez, I told myself, I’m finally a grownup and over the BS.
I bought Christmas cards at Kinokuniya and wrote personal notes on each of them. Sure, they were not the bespoke Christmas cards I used to do, but somehow these store-bought cards felt more special.
When you realize your Ocean’s 15, you suddenly have a lot to say.
Then choosing the gifts was especially enthralling. I spent days trolling the streets of Hong Kong and Singapore to find the special recession-proof present to my Ocean’s 15. Every present made me feel proud. A piece that showed a little inside joke I have with the recipient or something I knew they just thought they didn’t want but had to have.
I wrapped them this year in white paper and tied a black ribbon. An austere bow to the recession.
So, this year, it will be a milestone Christmas. No more mulled wine as I make good on my New Year’s resolution to quit drinking. I’m a thinker and doer! My dad miraculously is doing it, too. It’s a great trend! My first Christmas marking my first year being single. A year. Wow. And still having Marcel as my best friend in the whole wide world. The world is good.
So belt it out on the ivories, David Benoit. I’m ready, a little late, but ready indeed!