December 25, 2010

Christmas Eve report from wandering Warren Zaretsky, class of 1960

By Warren Zaretsky

It was Christmas Eve and I felt like the last survivor of the Alamo. The neighborhood kids had me surrounded, I was under siege. Bombs bursting overhead outside the garden walls, gunshots, rapid fire machine gun blasts of firecrackers and whistling rockets split the night air.

A dozen dogs barked with a vengeance. Some wise-ass tossed a cherry bomb over the wall and into the yard, then another. It was legitimately scary and I wished I had a gun. Then suddenly it stopped. Either they were out of ammunition, reloading, or they had fixed bayonettes and were coming over the wall. I waited, just behind the patio door, a kitchen knife in each hand and one clenched between my teeth. The best I could hope for was a Mexican stand-off.

Remember the Alamo, Christmas in Mexico, and me.
Yes, that's wandering Warren in the Santa suit.

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