J.J. Goodman: Writings, Musings and More

Watch Christmas Vacation ? Check.   Watch A Christmas Story multiple times during the 24-hour marathon? Check. Watch A Christmas Carol starring George C. Scott? Check. Make out with Rachel McAdams under the Mistletoe? A gentlemen never tells.   (Wait… WHAT???)   Just seeing if you were paying attention. While all of those tasks were on my Christmas list, sadly I was only able to complete three of the four. Each of the aforementioned films is a staple of my holiday season, and yes I can quote directly from each on demand. There's something to be said for tradition. Although, in recent years past, tradition has basically told me to kiss its silver bells sideways.   (That's, um, what does that mean, exactly?)   It means that the changing landscape of my life has rendered tradition a thing of the past. Let's face it; two years ago I was wandering around Washington DC by myself in blissfully mournful solitude. Last year I enjoyed the dulcet t

Danny waited impatiently as, one by one, passengers from her flight strolled through security en route to baggage claim or the waiting arms of their loved ones. Those that noticed him standing there, with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands, smiled and imagined the happy face that he'd be greeting that Christmas morning. What they didn't know was that the letter he'd sent her, together with the plane ticket, still sat in the envelope in which he'd sealed them. She needed to find herself, she'd told him. That was three months ago. He told her that he loved her and tried to give her space. Perhaps she shouldn't have said 'I love you' back. Though she meant it, it was the words she didn't say that meant more. She wasn't in love with him anymore, and when the FedEx envelope arrived, she signed for it, set it on her desk, and never looked at it again. When he glanced at his watch it became obvious that she wasn't on the plane; she wou

It's not always easy to admit your faults, though there are those times when it's a very difficult task. Generally I try to account for my own actions, and I think that, for the most part, I do a pretty good job of it. Although, there is one colossal f*cktard that, through no fault of my own, was the direct cause of a great deal of my consternation over the last several years, and that magnanimous pricksh*t can eat hot death with arsenic sprinkles. And then there is that certain female friend of mine that made me get my last tattoo.  ( *ahem*  She  made  you get a tattoo? Really?) Yes. It's all her fault. *whistling* Carrying on…. I bring this up because we are now knee deep in the holiday season which, for me, kinda sucks rocks. I used to love the holidays, from the turkey and gravy and my sister's green bean casserole on Thanksgiving, to the twinkling lights of the garland and wreath hung outside my front door, to decorating the tree while sipping eggnog and

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All I want for Christmas is a kiss from Rachel McAdams and a return to common, societal courtesy. (Rachel McAdams? Okay….) My point in illustrating the point I'd like to point out is that in picking these two things I am endeavoring to wish for things that are unattainable and thus pointless desires.  (Point… taken? Dude, it is way too early for this after a long Holiday weekend.) Okay, okay, I'll break it down – I have about as much luck in getting a kiss from Rachel McAdams as I do in having society return to a state of affairs in which we treat other human beings with courtesy and respect on a daily basis not because we have to, but because we should. (Ahhhh. Alright, I get it now.) Nothing brings out the general douchebaggery and nitwittery in people like Black Friday shopping, or, as the case may now be, pre-Black Friday Black Friday shopping on Thanksgiving evening. This year I decided to take part in the shennanigannery and --) (Sorry to interrupt, but tha