"But...I....I'M BATMAN!"

I could be, anyway. With one trip to the costume shop just to make everything LOOK perfect, I could be the caped crusader. All I would need is my sister in-laws car, cell phone and the wifes iPod. Add a little brasen attitude, some well practiced sneering and a butler, batcave, supercomputer (WITH Atomic pile) Four hundred billion dollars to support my devil-may-care philanthropist-by-day crime fighter by night lifestyle,and one teenage former circus acrobat as my ambiguously gay sidekick and I'm Batman, Damnit.
But it starts with the car. Julie has a Toyota Prius. Sure, no atomic batteries to power or turbines to speed, but it does have batteries...lot's of 'em. It also has an on board computer with touchscreen monitor that will map out the best route, display restaurants and maybe even sniff out bad guys, although I havn't found that button yet.
And It isn't because I havn't been trying. Every time I get into that machine I try something new. I have to. I try talking to it. I look for new lights, new bells, the switch for the expresso maker, or the lever for the ejection seat. If I don't, no one else will, especially not Julie, who admittedly has not a clue as to the function, form or even very EXISTANCE of any or the ultra cool shit she owns. She owns...and I don't. Something I'm getting used to. Seems I'm surrounded by technology in the hands of the enemy. Jay won a XBOX at a company meeting. He has had it in his posession for about a month. At least, he thought he did, but if he didn't he wouldn't have known it, since the thing sat in a plain shipping box in a dark corner, getting older. Not being loved. Not being played. Just...sitting. Jay owning an XBOX makes as much sense as Stevie Wonder owning a telescope.
Julie's car talks to her phone. Batman's stuff talks to each other,too.
My phone doesn't talk to anything. Not even me. It doesn't even have games to play. Not even Tetris. It has a color display. That's kinda cool. But not really.
Batman doesnt have time for games, not on his cell phone or his XBOX. But he has both, how could he not? He's Batman, damnit! Batman is cool. Stuff is cool. Knowing how to work cool stuff is cool especially when you have stuff to work.
Julie has stuff. Jay, too. Even my wifes iPod is way cool.
I have a CD resurfacer. It's kinda cool. The hand crank isn't though.
So, I could be Batman, I could drive around in a cool battery powered car with a portable data drive in my belt buckle, a voice activated two way communicator and a virtual reality emulator back at the cave...but only if I borrow all of it. That doesn't seem right.
Batman never borrowed anything. Just ask his ambiguously gay teenager friend. He'll tell ya.

Christmas letter 2004

Well kids what a thrill and a half...Christmas is upon us, that time of we schlep ourselves to the overcrowded stores in hopes of wrestling the last ipod or doo-dad or whatchamacallit from the cold dead hands of the jerkoff who thought he had the stones to cut you off in the parking lot, pay for the damn thing on credit, hide it, wrap it and finally toss it in the general direction of whichever bloodsucking relative who's name you happened to draw in last years Sectret Santa debacle. Yip-ay and ya-hoo its almost here. Break out the egg nog and hit it with 90 proof grain alcohol, this years joy to the worlding will need a little extra kick in the crotch.

Ok, alright, I'm kidding. I never knew how anyone could be bitter and "grinchy" this time of year, especially now with kids. Yes, we are stressed out big time, yes, we are maxed out credit wise, again. Yes, it's colder than Hell during a Cubs world series(see what I did there, the Cubs reference, ya catch that?)but nothing could really dampen my spirits around now. The older I get the more I get like my own parents, all soft and gushy and otherwise unlike myself. In days past I dislocated limbs in an effort to smash whatever device was playing Ann Murray Christmas songs, now I bop to anything that plays, pretending I'm Sinatra and boo-be-doing all over the place. If it gets any worse, I may start hum along with Clay Aikin. Ok, wait, scratch the last part, I'm warm and fuzzy this time of year, NOT gay.
Santa was good to the family this year, I'm even predicting a large, very impractible toy myself. Please oh PLEASE!

Well, so much for confessions of a Christmas candyass, back to my cave on Mt. Crumpit and plotting ways of stealing Christmas from those Who's down in Who-ville.