Jason Fredric Gilbert
Pushing the boundaries of weird since 1978

I hate the holidays

Some of the valuable lessons I’ve learned these past few weeks:

1. Being a vegetarian pretty much sucks. Yeah, I know, animals are cruelly mistreated. But if I have to eat anymore tofu I’m going to kill someone and go full cannibal. There is some good that’s come out of it. I’ve lost a pound or two and I don’t get invited to my brother in law’s impromptu barbecues on his roof. And that alone is worth it.

2. The Jewish holidays suck. For many reasons.  Everyone and their fucking mother are sending you text messages and emails wishing you a happy fucking new year. The other day I received an email from a certain woman who works at a certain talent agency wishing me and my loved ones a shana tova. So I asked her how the fuck she got my email. And she replied (quite promptly) that I must have applied for a position at one point. Oh so you assholes won’t hire me (or respond to my application) but you’ll spam me once a year? Fuck you too Teva pharmaceuticals.

3. Being a New Driver sucks. I’ve been risking life and limb on these mean streets since I got my driver’s license at 16. That’s like 17 years. And when a certain loved one (who has requested to stay anonymous… I love you boo and no, my life didn’t flash before my eyes at a certain roundabout in Jaffa. You’re a wonderful driver) got her license recently we were forced to slap a yellow sign on the back windshield that reads: New Driver. Might as well slap a bullseye on there. Every god damn asshole gives me the stink eye as they honk and pass me. Some even curse at me and the DMV that gave me my license. But there is some silver lining. All the cute young army girls from the nearby base think I’m 19. So I stare. And wink. Which isn’t creepy at all.

4. No matter how much of an asshole you think a person is, odds are their mother is a much bigger Cee U Next Tuesday. Like a certain person. Whom I love to mention in this blog and who happens to show up in my nightmares like some Kappa suit wearing Freddy Krueger. Well, his mother, God bless her, sees me at some recent joyous event that I was attending. And when my wife greets her she immediately says she would have never recognized me as I had gotten so unbelievably fat. And to add insult to injury she insisted that we were fools for not having another child. Right now. Fools. And then her son chimed in and lamented the fact that the Alfajores cookies we had brought him were sugar-free. Which he grumbled as he spit them out.

5. Fuck cargo shorts. And pants. And every other article of clothing that I throw on that wears down in the crotchal region. God damn it. Every article of clothing I own has a huge crater-sized hole in the same exact spot. And I know what you’re thinking. You’re fat. And you have two thick tree trunks instead of legs. But still. I mean come on. Can’t any of those seven year olds in the factory in Singapore reinforce that area? It’s getting ridiculous. I survived summer 2014 in Israel. A war. A few weeks of being a stay at home dad and the brutal heat and my bloody shorts don’t make it. Fuck you GAP.

6. The local doctor here is a sick bastard. I should have known by the ease in which I could make the appointment. Oh you want to come today? Anytime you want. Really? Yeah, really. Ok. So I come in at the time of my liking and he’s sitting there with his purple thumb playing with his stamp. And so I tell him about the furuncle I have on my butt. Dangerously close to my asshole. And it hurts. And looks awful. And his face lights up. He smiles. “Furuncle? Show me!”. And I’m like, “I’ve had my wife take a pic on my phone. I’ll show you the pic.” But no. He’s thorough. And won’t settle for any representation of said furuncle. And smiles as I pull down my pants. “Yup. That’s a furuncle alright.” He says as he sighs nostalgically, as though recalling a long lost friend. And then I ask him if he minded buying me dinner.

7. The pharmacist is probably schizophrenic or at least bi polar. When I asked her to fill the prescription my new shrink gave me she smiled and said that a friend of hers took it for a while and she’s doing great. Really great. She’s feeling much better. She doesn’t mind her job as much. Or the annoying people that always want – need – something from her. So sick. So needy. But now? Everything is just peachy. Peachy.

8. Apples suck. I hate em. I could live without honey either. And the two together? No thanks.

9. Everyone’s wishing me a year of happiness and success and that sucks.  Which is what they did last year and look how that turned out. A train wreck. I’m ten errrr fifteen pounds heavier. I’m older. I work at the same dead-end job watching porn all day and they even pulled an “Office Space” moment on me by informing me that my office was being converted to a storage room for servers. Oh, and I wrote a book that gets me at least one rejection letter a day from agents/publishers. The upside? I don’t know yet. I guess it could always be worse.

10. I love my wife. Not because I’m a great romantic soul or anything. But she puts up with my shit. And she takes pictures of my furuncle when no one else dares to. So Ani Ohev Otach Neshama. Thank you for being the kind, gentle, loving buoy a horrible shipwrecked mess like me has to cling on to.

That’s it. Nothing else to see here but a tired, poor fat man with holes in the crotch of his shorts and a furuncle wishing you and your loved ones a happy new year.


About the Author
Jason Fredric Gilbert is a film and music video director, published author and acclaimed parallel parker; His Independent Film,"'The Coat Room" won "Best in Fest" at the 2006 Portland Underground Film Festival. He is also the author of two books of screenplays, "Miss Carriage House" and the follow up collection of screenplays "Reclining Nude & The Spirit of Enterprise" He currently lives in Or Yehuda and solves crossword puzzles in the bathroom. Please slap him in the face if you see him.