Welcome to 2011 ladies and gentlemen! Hard to believe that in a mere four years we will be riding hover boards, at least according to what Back to the Future 2 told us. I hope that 2011 is going to be a good year, and while I haven’t made any crazy resolutions, I want to make some positive changes in my life. This year I am hoping to get my groove back, like Stella did. However, I am hoping that doesn’t involve me being seduced by or sleeping with Taye Diggs.     

This week, I would like to tell you about my grandmom Jackie O’Donnell. In my 2010 reflections, after listing how many concerts I went to, how many wings I ate, and all my bloopers and embarrassing moments, I realized how important my grandmom is to me. Granted, I am aware that is a very obvious statement because who doesn’t love grandparents? And grandmothers can be so wonderfully textbook — curly gray hair, knitting away in a rocking chair, decked out in a sweater. However, in my eyes, I think my grandmom Jackie bucks that trend a bit and is wonderfully unique.

She is of course, a textbook Irish Catholic, as most of my family are. I come from a lineage that requires me to basically cover myself and even chug SPF 172, and be best friends with the potato, whiskey, and high blood pressure. She, and my grandfather who passed away in 2008, owned a restaurant in town called O’Donnell’s. They have always been ferociously devoted to their community of Gloucester City, their church, their school, and of course their family. They were fixtures at most Gloucester Catholic games from when they attended up until about the mid 2000’s. I have heard story after story of their generosity and goodwill. And they have an award (the John and Jackie O’Donnell award) named after them at our high school. The award is given annually to a graduate of Gloucester Catholic who demonstrates generous service to the Gloucester Catholic school community. This is one of the many things I admire about her. (Check her out here at 3:43 in a recent Gloucester Catholic video)

Along with the Irish Catholic background of my grandmom come the quirks of the Irish Catholic grandmom. You can set your watch to her having a Dewar’s and water every day at the stroke of five o’clock. She paints her toenails and fingernails green on St. Patrick’s Day. And when my girlfriend was pregnant, I was too scared to tell her. So as far as I know, she is still under the impression that Jack is the second coming of the baby Jesus. She isn’t exactly a PETA supporter, and PETA probably isn’t a grandmom Jackie supporter either, because she owns a fur coat and hates dogs of all shapes and sizes. And while the fur coat has been in hibernation in her closet for the past few years, she is certainly not a friend to the vegan community either. When I told her my girlfriend was thinking about becoming a vegetarian, she asked in a very exasperated tone, “why would anyone want to do that?” A steak of some sort and a potato of some sort were staples in the O’Donnell household. Now I don’t want to portray her as this gruff old crow, chomping on cigarettes and gnawing on beef jerky. She is more along the lines of enjoying a fine cocktail and juicy prime rib.

She has probably never eaten Chinese food and rarely eats Italian food. In fact, garlic was always considered an exotic spice in the O’Donnell/O’Connor household. She wouldn’t fit in here in the higher education world, because I know she doesn’t eat Indian food (neither do I), which is SO hip to eat here at work. I’ve never been more confused as to why it’s so hip and trendy to eat Indian food when you work at a college, but that’s another blog for another time.    

Grandmom Jackie is also quite the actress. I am sure she would have given Rita Haworth and Greta Garbo a run for their money with her feigned excitement when I tell her about “important” milestones in my life. Like when I solved my Rubix cube (I cheated), when I beat Mike Tyson in “Punch Out” (a feat of which I am still proud), when I got my license, when my acne cleared up, and when I drank my first 4Loko. She seemed genuinely excited for me during all those monumental periods of my life.

I have a million funny stories about her.  Recently we took her to Charlie Brown’s for dinner and she asked for a Dewar’s and water.  The waitress mistakenly brought her an O’Doul’s. (NON-ALCOHOLIC BEER!) The death stare she gave the waitress could have melted Antarctica and all the diamonds on P.Diddy’s jewel encrusted Bentley. I also recently walked into her room and she was watching “Sanford and Son” and was roaring at something that Red Foxx said. She told me she also watches “The Jeffersons” and I am amazed that she has the same love of 1970’s black comedies that I do. Also, her and my grandfather had Philadelphia Eagles season tickets up until 1995 and would bring me all the time. There was a guy in their section that would bring a TV that was hollowed out so he could smuggle beer in. Once, while security was checking her fur coat for illegal contraband, I heard her angrily mutter to the guard, “why are you checking a little old lady, check the guy with the TV.” Maybe she was just pissed that the guy never gave her a beer or at least sneak some Dewar’s in for her.

She has the most infectious and lose-all-control laughs in the world. It’s hysterical to see her really laugh. And this is one of the many things that make me realize how much she has influenced me. I love making people laugh, to me it’s the greatest feeling in the world to see someone laugh at something you said. And my grandmom is undoubtedly the reason why I love seeing people laugh. I fondly and vividly remember being a child and dancing to the “Gong Show” and seeing her and my grandfather in their recliners laughing hysterically. I also keep a journal of daily events like she does. She can tell you the weather and time of all births, weddings, and graduations in our family. And I credit the strong friendships I still have with my childhood/lifelong friends to the values and devotion that my grand mom has to her city, church, school, family, and friends. My son is named John Patrick after my grandfather, but we call him Jack. So his name and nickname pay homage to my grandparents.

So I’d like to ring in 2011 with a toast of Dewar’s and water to my dear grandmom Jackie, who has given me so much love, so many laughs, and so much to admire.         

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