December 20, 2007
It’s Sunday afternoon and I’m at my family’s annual Christmas party. All of my cousins and aunts and uncles are there. It’s a scene I’ve witnessed dozens of times over the course of my life, but something is different this time. Instead of the hall we usually rent, we find ourselves on a cramped houseboat with a very low ceiling. In the main room, lit only by the twinkle of white Christmas lights, a man in a suit and tie croons a Christmas carol to entertain the children.
The man in the suit is Tony Bennett. He does an okay job, but when he’s finished I think to myself, “I could do better than that.” I take the microphone from Tony and sing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”
The party over and our ship docked in South Philly, I leave the boat and walk to the top of a grassy hill. My family follows me as far as the bottom of the hill. At the top I find a hot air balloon waiting for me. I climb into the balloon’s basket, and then help my elderly aunt, Imogene Coca, hop aboard.
As we ascend into the grey afternoon sky, the family below us fades away, and Imogene and I view Philadelphia as it might have looked a few centuries ago, littered with open, green spaces and not a skyscraper in sight.
It’s Sunday afternoon and I’m at my family’s annual Christmas party. All of my cousins and aunts and uncles are there. It’s a scene I’ve witnessed dozens of times over the course of my life, but something is different this time. Instead of the hall we usually rent, we find ourselves on a cramped houseboat with a very low ceiling. In the main room, lit only by the twinkle of white Christmas lights, a man in a suit and tie croons a Christmas carol to entertain the children.
The man in the suit is Tony Bennett. He does an okay job, but when he’s finished I think to myself, “I could do better than that.” I take the microphone from Tony and sing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”
The party over and our ship docked in South Philly, I leave the boat and walk to the top of a grassy hill. My family follows me as far as the bottom of the hill. At the top I find a hot air balloon waiting for me. I climb into the balloon’s basket, and then help my elderly aunt, Imogene Coca, hop aboard.
As we ascend into the grey afternoon sky, the family below us fades away, and Imogene and I view Philadelphia as it might have looked a few centuries ago, littered with open, green spaces and not a skyscraper in sight.
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I think it's worth noting (of course I would!) that Imogene Coca was born in Philadelphia in 1908.
2 comments:
Awesome, Jiminy! (The only reason I didn't recognize Imogene in the drawing is because I wouldn't recognize her in a photo either!)
My Roommate thought at first it was Eileen Eckhart but his 2nd guess was Imogene
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