Illegal Foreign Object

When I sang in bands, I found the stage a welcome wall-less barrier between myself and the general public. I never experienced fright on stage — it felt like home. Singing always came naturally to me, and the beauty of it was that when I sang, I didn’t have to concern myself with anyone talking to me. That reads more negatively than intended, but it’s the truth. To this day, left to my devices, I mostly avoid human interaction on any grand scale. I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m a private person — I talk about some pretty personal shit on this blog. I simply prefer to control what strangers know about me and the people I love. During the Facebook craze of 15 years ago, I (on more than one occasion) asked someone to remove a photo or tag involving me or my whereabouts. That might be silly, especially since most folks seem content with everyone knowing what they’re doing at any given moment, but that isn’t me. So fearful was I of giving away too much of my private time I didn’t even own a cellphone until I was almost 36 years old.

I also deal with a bit of agoraphobia. Being in the middle of large crowds typically brings me no joy. This phobia would explain why a stage always felt comfortable — I could be present without having to interact. But I am also in a committed relationship with someone who loves socializing. Our 15-year-old is very much like his mom in this respect. As such, there are times when I kick back against my nature for what I know and accept is for the betterment of our family. They go and do far more than I do, but I know there are times when they wish I could be a bit more normal.

Last night was one such time as San Antonio de Belén held its annual desfile navideño (Christmas parade). It’s a small parade — school dance troupes and marching bands, fire trucks and police vehicles lit up with sirens blasting, and the odd emaciated Santa Claus slinging cheap candy into the crowd. The event draws quite a crowd, however, and up until about 20 minutes before we walked downtown and found a spot along the guardrail, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to attend.

I strained my hamstring earlier in the day, and if I’m being honest, it felt like the perfect excuse to stay home. In the past, I would have been almost happy for the physical pain — it a far more tolerable annoyance than being surrounded by a screaming mob hopped up on candy and merriment — but this year I’m trying. Maybe it’s my dad passing (that dude loved Christmas), a greater understanding that I need to get over my bullshit and put the family first for things like this, or maybe I’ve gotten better at shoveling a little dirt on the mental anguish I typically associate with the unknown. Whatever the goosing, I stared myself down in the bathroom mirror, threw two solid middle fingers in my face, and off we went.

And a good time was had by all.

I counted three Santas last night, and I’d bet money they all have perfectly reasonable cholesterol levels. I’m sorry, but no Santa of mine has a blood pressure under 160/90! These Santas all looked like they get regular cardio! The first of them, a shriveled-up string bean of a Claus, gave me my favorite moment when he shotgunned a bag of hard candy from the back of a pick-up truck into the unsuspecting faces of a gaggle of women. I’m seriously drawing a blank on anything that topped it. If you’re going to yell for candy, you should probably prepare to catch it.

There was also a Grinch wandering the streets (after the parade began, he found his way onto a 4-wheeler), a half dozen dance troupes of varying skill levels (one of which swayed ambivalently to Rakim’s “When I B on tha Mic”), some fun-as-hell marching bands, a few bootleg floats, and a car with a ridiculous sound system and a giant Predator airbrushed down the side of it. The skies rained hard candy, sending on-lookers into hysterics. It was all almost weird enough to be biblical.

I’m not prepared to say I’ll be a regular in the streets — I still love few things more than being home. Still, moments like last night remind me that if I can tamp down the madness long enough to go into these excursions with a positive outlook, I might mess around and actually enjoy myself.