The Yuletide Gay: Share your most memorable holiday story

I received both Olivia Newton-John's Physical album AND the OCR for Annie! Clearly, my parents knew they had a gay kid.

The worst Christmas has to have been four years ago. It was with my extended family at my Aunt's house, and my uncle's daughter from his first marriage who's husband had run out on her and her three year old son just a week before. She kept on bursting into tears, the little kid kept on crying because his mother was upset. Everyone felt extremely uncomfortable and my Aunt didn't cook enough food. 

Intheye

This year! When my Grampa called during our snow storm to make sure that my partner and I were all right. He then wanted to make sure that I was being good to him because, as my Grampa said "He's a hella of a fine man and a keeper"! How wonderful is MY Grampa? 

Actually, this year's in the running for one of the worst, just because the Portland area's been immobilized by snow and ice for more or less two weeks.  My birthday was on the 21st, and everything had to be cancelled; similarly, Christmas Eve, Day, and Boxing day all had to be massively overhauled or scaled back.  Bad weather, bad moods, unable to see family and friends, yecchhh.

Christmas 2004 was a great year, only because 6 gay friends came to dinner, and I just remember a ton of food, drink, alcohol, and endless laughter.  Definitely one of my favorite memories.

Brian, what is it about Iowa? Aside from the year I was eight and my father had to do all the Xmas shopping because my mother was sick - I got an alarm clock, pencils and a statue of Jesus - the worst was when my then BF decided to take me home to meet his parents in Iowa.

We arrived in Chicago during the tail end a major snow storm. After hours and hours of waiting, the small regional airline that was supposed to fly us to Moline decided they couldn't after all, so they stuffed us in a cab with four other bedraggled travelers, piled everyone's luggage on laps and off we set. As we approached the Chicago city limits the cabbie, who clearly had never been out of Chicago since arriving from Greece, turned to us and cheerfully said "Which way now, guys?" As in north, south, east or west. With the great snow-swept prairie before us. Okay. BF did his best to navigate and after hours and hours and hours of driving through the back end of the blizzard we finally got to the airport where his parents were supposed to pick us up. Except the original airline had never called forward to let them know we were going to extremely delayed. This was in the dark ages before cell phones. The whole way home his father was major pissed in that taciturn but wrapped-tight-furious-about-to-explode way and his mother kept bleating, "But Joey's never had this problem before!" Guess it was my fault. The memories of the actual festivities have faded but there's one highlight. I do remember being asked to sleep in the cellar, alone, on the floor, albeit with a sleeping bag. When BF chivalrously insisted on joining me mother cried and father made sure the cellar door stayed wide open all night, every night.

Caveat, Never ever fly anywhere at Xmas, in a snowstorm, to visit people who wish mightily you didn't exist. And, cultural note - green jello is considered a vegetable in Iowa and Cool Whip goes with absolutely everything.