Am I Famous Now…

Most people are now having a nice meal and hanging out with family. Presents have been unpacked and everyone is in a great mood. When I was young and still lived with my parents, we organized yearly the Christmas meal. I have never really liked the Christmas period, even not as kid.

My parents gave me a ‘nice childhood’, but a hard one as well. Every man in our family has worn a uniform. One grandfather was sniper, the other instructor for the Belgian elite troops. Yes they have them, even if there might only be 80 soldiers in the squad, they still have elite troops. My father is his son. My father became cop and was soon captain. After a short career in the regular 24/7 rotation, he went undercover. A few years later he was national president of the Police Union. And then there was the Marc Dutroux scandal in Belgium. This promoted my father to internal affairs, as an expert for the police reformation in Belgium. Oh I have forgotten that he was the youngest captain in Belgian police history. Can someone please tell me where and when this guy should have learned to love ???

This guy set the climate at our place. A smooth and really hard working father, who had never learned or been allowed to show any emotions. This really suffocated me at home. I was deeply unhappy, but really respect my parents. More even, I love them. As soon as I ‘had the occasion’, so when I was officially adult I left home. Before I had been ‘allowed’ to jump one year at high school, smart bloke that was I, and as a result I was even not allowed to ‘do something’ when I got my A-Levels, very good A-Levels even. I got them 2 weeks before my 17th birthday.

Of course everything was set for me to become the youngest police agent in Belgium and so on. Surprisingly -did I have a choice- I even followed the track and really became the youngest cop in Belgium. My father had ‘arranged’ an exception allowing me to go trough the formation although I was officially too ‘young’, one year too young. ‘Surprisingly’ after one year of formation, I was a police agent. Again 2 weeks before my birthday. So I was even not allowed to carry a gun and had to ‘take’ 2 weeks of ‘forced holidays’.

Soon I realized it was just not my world and left after only having been a cop for only 7 weeks. It was just not my ‘cup of coffee’. When I was still at school I had started to work in a bar and this became my professional choice. I have always been a party type and soon became a Studio 54-style bartender. I love(d) the party and nightlife and believe me most of time I am the first one on the Bar, even before the guests start to party. People who have seen the movie ‘54′ understand what I mean. This made me work every year during the holidays and I always enjoyed it. Not because of the parties who are most of time ‘worse’ during the holidays, but in this week of the year mainly because we just ’shuffled’ money. We ‘poor’ people who had to work. Christmas never meant anything to me, anything more then real good money. Tips used to be up to the triple of usually. That’s it.

I never met with my family, and will probably not in the next years either, for Christmas. But we all respect our decision and I hope my family has a nice day today. But this year, the first year I do not work for Christmas, mainly because since some months I have a job in a total different area, I experienced something new. I met someone a while ago. Together we share loads of time and speak openly about what occupies us. It is lovely. This is the nicest Christmas I ever had. For the first time in life I think experiencing something like Christmas. It is no religious thing for me, especially not since the bloke was born on another day. But it is something that goes really deep. Happy Christmas my love.

And to all the people who read this, mumm and dad I hope you also do, and especially some people I regularly ‘hang out with’ lately, merry Christmas to you as well.

I promise you that i MIGHT never write any this long posts anymore, and now go click on that little Image at the right. Yes that small ‘camouflage’ picture. Visit gigotti’s blog. He is soldier and stuck in Iraq for Christmas ! Go visit him.