It's Beginning to....

At some stage in my movie-going life I started seeing trailers for those Christmas movies about families whose gatherings over the turkey inevitably end up in all kinds of strife and drama. Major highlights included, a broken heart or two, lost loves, unresolved conflicts, sibling rivalry, lifetime and unresolved feuds, maybe a lesbian in there somewhere (art house version), and sometimes, for added flavor, divorced parents sniping or reconciling in the midst of it all.

I never paid money to see them because I couldn't relate. Growing up, our Christmases were pretty predictable for many decades: lots of family visiting, spirited card games, hugging, eating, lots of eating, laughter, and warm fuzzy feelings at the end. Like I said: predictable.

Until I got married, met Grandpa Grumpy and his gun-toting Republican friends.

I should point out that I love all my other in-laws. They are a great group of people and Mimi adores her grandmother, aunts, uncles, and cousins. But Bob's step-father, Grandpa Grumpy (Grumps for short) is in a class all by himself, except when he brings along others of his ilk, which most often happens over Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner.

Take this particular Christmas.

First let me say that Grumps and I have a long history. He bullies me and, to keep the peace, I put up with it. Without going into any detail let's just say Grumps is a self-serving, horn-tooting, judgmental old coot who, is a boor to boot. Relations with his step-children are only a tad better than the ones with the kids he actually spermed, and who cut him cold off two decades ago.

Until recently, when I told my husband that if his behavior didn't improve I would face off with the old guy or threaten to pull grandparent visitation off the table. I had begun to worry that my daughter would think it was okay to take crap from someone just because they were a) a grownup and b) related in some way.

This holiday visit started off on a good note and I was very hopeful. All was going well, so well that I entertained the thought that perhaps Grumps was on some kind of mood-elevating drugs because when we arrived, tired and hungry after a five hour road trip he was positively chirrupy. For the first in a long time, I relaxed into the warm hustle and bustle typical of Christmas dinner preparations.

But after the meal, a new set of guests arrived, neighbors, actually, from this town of ex-military, farmers, ranchers, and small business owners. The conversation was pleasant enough until one of the guests had a mysterious episode of mental confusion that left us all troubled since she was a young woman and definitely not on drugs. Dispatched home with a promise to see a doctor right away, the conversation at the table inevitably turned to health care and the reforms just passed in the U.S. Senate.

One of the guests was a Millie, a physician, originally from Iran, and her boyfriend, an insurance broker with several employees. On the pro-reform side of the discussion was the physician and me, on the other, Grumpy and Mr. Insurance. It was my first time really getting inside the head of the other side of this debate, and it was an eye-popper. Millie kept Grumpy in line with her outrageous opinions, sense of humor, and by affectionately grabbing Grumpy's ear or poking his forehead when she had a point to make and I was learning a lot from her. For the most part we never lost our sense of humor, but the candor in the opinions made it very clear how far apart the two sides were on this issue. Mr. Insurance got angrier and angrier as the conversation went on, and his main stance, from which he never wavered was this: "I worked for everything I have and I'm covered. Anyone who doesn't have healthcare coverage is stupid, an illegal alien, or lazy. All I get out of this deal is higher taxes."

The exchange went something like this:

Q: What if someone has health insurance for 20 years, has an illness, and the provider drops him/her?

A: Get another job.

Huh?

Q: What if someone is laid off and after COBRA runs out, can't get another insurance policy because of a pre-existing condition. For arguments sake, let's pick something non-life threatening, like bronchitis?

A: Get another job.

Okay, moving on....

Q: What if someone has a life-threatening illness and the insurance company decides it won't pay for treatment?

A: Get another job. (as in a second, third, or fourth job to pay for the treatment)

At one point I said that my husband's company (where he's been for 27 years) won't take out an extended care policy on him. If he gets sick and can't work, he'll lose his job. Even with me back at work we couldn't afford caregivers, babysitters, etc. We'd lose the house, etc. His answer?

Leave this company and find another job, one that has this benefit.

Needless to say, things got more and more heated, the humor barely keeping the animosity at bay. When the couple finally got up to leave, we shook hands and went back to our corners. As he was leaving, he had one last comment:

"If the health care bill comes into law, I'll have to fire my 5 employees and close down my company."

My answer?

"Find another job."

I don't think he found this last joke very funny.

Next: Part II of Christmas with Grandpa Grumpy