Rob Anstee

A friend of mine, John Austin wrote a song about the day after Christmas and it’s pretty good. It paints a picture of the strewn detritus that is pretty inevitable after the typical family Christmas. It would work as a pretty good “morning after” song in general, and he just picked December 26th as the biggest let-down day of them all. It’s a hopeful song, though, and like a lot of John’s songs points to hope in tragedy.

My parents countered that inevitable post-holiday letdown in their own way. They were married on Boxing Day in England. In all fairness, Boxing day is really still a pretty big deal in the UK. It’s the day after Christmas when people still give gifts and everything is still closed. This, of course, made it hard to find things like florists and caterers, but all the same, there they were.

My Dad is a small-town methodist, and my Mom was as Catholic as they come. They were married in England after a really quick courtship. I’m not sure my Dad’s family even made the trip from upstate New York. I know my Mom’s Catholic great-aunt almost boycotted the wedding because they would be serving communion to a protestant. But there they were, married nonetheless.

So they added some joy to the day after Christmas that wasn’t there before. For our family, the time between Thanksgiving and New Year’s is one event after another. I, my sister, and my grandmother all have December birthdays. We celebrate our parents’ anniversary, and, oh yeah, there’s Christmas.

December was stressful growing up. There was a lot to remember, and we always seemed to have lots to do and gifts to buy. Looking back, though, I think my parents made the right call – picking the 26th for their wedding. For them, the day after Christmas is not just changing batteries, cleaning the mess, and eating leftovers. It is a dinner out, sweet gifts, and a memory of a wedding that happened 41 years ago, across an ocean, in a small chapel, on a day when everything else was closed.

So Merry Day After Christmas to you all. And happy anniversary, Mom and Dad.

I have an informal rule about dining out.

When dining at a restaurant that has a “famous” dish (e.g. “El Famous Burrito”), or an eponymous dish (Steak and Shake), one must always order said dish on the first visit to that restaurant.

Usually it works out, with the obvious exceptions of Red Lobster and Olive Garden. And I did bend the rule at the Chicago Chop House, by ordering steak instead of chops. But I’ve had prime rib at Lawry’s, Burritos at numerous establishments. I’ve eaten Chicken at Harold’s Chicken Shack and, of course, numerous burgers and pizzas.

The real treat comes when restaurants have a special that is named for the restaurant. Such as the “Combinacion El Tapatio” at El Tapatio in Chicago on Ashland and Roscoe. Ordered that the first time I went there and loved it. I’ve probably ordered that a dozen times. Still don’t know what it is… I think some kind of tacos and enchiladas. But it’s great, and I’ll order it again.

The dilemma occurs, of course, when numerous items are named after the restaurant (e.g. the “Lloyd’s house salad”, and the “Lloyd’s burger” and the “Lloyd’s chipped beef on toast”). When that happens, I usually forego the rule because – let’s face it – there is obviously no sacred bond between Lloyd and that salad. Probably Lloyd just paid attention during the brand and marketing class in business school.

The rule has served me well, and I will most certainly continue to follow it. Of course, I will need to venture carefully if I ever go to Hooters.