My Extended Family Returns

I remember various parental figures, as well as assorted aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins, griping from time to time about supposed slights committed by people from the same group.

There was a note of bitterness, sometimes some notes carried the heavy toll of possible retribution, but all in all, it was my family being my family. Come the holidays, the issues and wishes of revenge were buried underneath the mounds of tamales, chicken in mole sauce, Mexican rice, soupy beans (my term for cooked pinto beans that have not been refried), fried potatoes with cheese and home-made flour tortillas, all of which made the Christmas Eve dinner so special and gut busting.

But finally there was a split, a divide that could not be bridged and the giant family meals ended. (Funny, the amount of food at the various splinter Christmas Eve gatherings only stayed the same, so more food for fewer people.)

That is pretty much where we are now that the good news has reached all precincts. A collective bargaining agreement for the National Hockey League is awaiting ratification.

Once the votes have been cast, presumably in the affirmative, we can get back to action on the ice, where the players belong and clearly wanted to be before the owners locked them out.

But there are fans who will not be back, having scratched the NHL off their list of things to watch. No return after a few weeks, or after a month. No return at all. That is sad, but true.

I am coming back, as I never left. My family members were in unions, and the plant where my father worked seemed to lock out employees around Thanksgiving. They did it a couple of times. All the while, neighbors and friends of the family would try to offer help, often in the hollow words of "you are getting paid to much" and "you should go back." (Those people will always be on my list of people to look up when I am sitting in for St. Peter. Yeah, I know I will never have that job, but I have the list in case I do get the gig.)

I take my inspiration from my father, who stayed calm and focused during these labor battles. I did not loose my head during labor negotiations at my workplace last year. (We eventually won a new Guild contract.) And I did not vow to never watch the NHL because I was not getting my daily fix of the game.

I stayed patient. I spent more time with my family. I spent more time walking the dogs, contributing to holiday conversations and helping out with the repairs and such around the house. When it came to getting that kind of work done, my wife humorously gave me the nickname Edward James Almost. (At least we laugh about the name and the devilishly sharp sense of humor she has.)

Well, I managed to learn how to "Stand and Deliver," being more like Edward James Olmos's character in that film. I hope to continue to contribute more around the house and here, in the Lounge, this year.

Thanks, guys, for getting my extended NHL family back together for the feast of hockey. And thanks to you patrons for checking back into the lounge. The first one is on me.