matt mcaskill

Call off the search party, the Angus is safe, and Captain Matt is still at the helm. Apologies for the lag time, the wheel requires a tighter grip in rough seas, no room for a pen. The good captain may pilot a mighty craft but even he isn’t immune to dark skies and the pull of the undertow. The holidays are always a welcome time for the crew of the Angus, every inch of the deck is halled with lights on strings, Christmas trees, Santas of varying sizes, candy dishes, stockings, and Christmas movies on a loop. Yes, we are talking about Christmas, this is the February lull so let’s cover some holiday fun and other life bullshit, you could use a fun holiday refresher. BUT…

2022 was the best year of life, I married my best friend/first mate, took an unforgettably amazing honeymoon and all was right with the word. 2023 was just the opposite, life needed to balance from my peak and took me to a deep dark valley. In said valley I hit bedrock hard, sat in it for a while and started to crawl out towards the flickering light. This is a sentiment I have already shared, I know, but the holidays remind you who and where you are, and this year was humbling. The plunder of the ship in the past few years has been plentiful and steady, but this year saw that bounty evaporate. When the Angus first set sail, it’s worth seemed directly connected to the weight of the gold in its hull. The past year or so taught the now humbled captain a valuable lesson; money is a poor way to keep score of one’s life. But god damn, it sure does help. The Angus’ stockpile of treasure rests deep on the ocean floor, hopefully whomever unearths it will use it better than myself. With that humility came clarity, once blinded by all that sparkles and shines, a new captain was born. The sails needed patching but luckily they can still catch the wind and I still have a loyal crew to support the captain in these times. Dice on the table, the captain suffers from depression like many other pirates I’ve tried to fill that void with vice. The past seven months of my life has been devoted to digging up WHY I need treasure, not the treasure itself. It’s been a hard process but like cleaning a closet, you need to make a bigger mess before you can put the pieces back together and organize it. I’ve never been one to shy away from getting my hands dirty, but that doesn’t make it any easier when they’re covered in filth. I’m glad we cleared that, now let’s talk a little Feliz Navidad. I know I’m two months late, just roll with it.

This Holiday season had some incredibly difficult factors attached to it, namely missing some loved ones who have passed on to Atlantis. Not the resort in the Bahamas, the afterlife. I’m not sure of the best analogy in seafaring terms to phrase that, Davy Jones locker seems too bleak. I like Atlantis, so that’s where they are, and I hope it’s as beautiful as I picture it in my dreams. With all those waves it seemed more important this year to make sure the Angus had a joyful Christmas. Today I wanted to focus on some holiday traditions that make my heart grow three sizes. Should be a fun pivot from talks of life lows, lost treasure, passed loves ones and depression, but I believe we can pull it off!

I am a methodical man when it comes to fun, I plan and wait with childlike anticipation when the event approaches. A new holiday tradition was forged by myself and my lovely wife probably four(ish) years ago and has quickly become one of my favorites. Before we get there let me lay out the first act of this tradition. For about six years my wife and I have been getting a tree together, first as homies, then as partners, but the tree always came from the same place. When I first met and became friends with my first mate, she lived in a small apartment in a small town that we referred to as the treehouse. It was this tiny apartment on the second floor of a three-family home on a windy road overlooking a river. The place wasn’t large, but it was cozy, warm and was home to some wonderful memories that laid the groundwork of what is now a beautiful marriage. In that small treehouse Britt (the first mate if you didn’t already know) showed me her proclivity for not only decorating for every holiday, but OVER decorating in the best way possible. I mentioned this in my wedding vows, but it is a character attribute that made me feel at home with her. The first Christmas in the treehouse required a tree and thank god we both were/are real tree people. Britt knew a small tree lot tucked behind a gas station about two miles from her place. I’m a man who loves Christmas and tends to be the one friends call when something heavy needs moving. It’s less about strength and more about a willingness to lift, there is a difference (good life lesson there). Luckily the good captain has both! We made our way to that tree lot our first Christmas and met two fascinating characters. The tree lot was run by a husband-and-wife team who brought all the trees down from Canada. I honestly could not tell you the husband’s name (which is a shame) but his wife’s name is Mary, and her birthday is Christmas day itself, even if that was a lie for a sales tactic’s sake, I still love it. Mary’s husband let’s call him Nicholas asked what kind of tree we wanted and proceeded to pick us the PERFECT tree on the first attempt. Nick is a large man with a larger personality, a tree himself with massive character and always sporting a Marines hat. Nick and I got along immediately, he likes to talk shit, and I love it too. Nick has picked out our tree every single year of our relationship (me and Britt’s not me and his, well technically that one too) and he is six for six with incredible trees on the first attempt. He is a magical figure to us with a surly disposition that makes me love him more, I get out of the car, and he grouses “What the hell do you want?” which tells me it’s Christmas time. Nick gives us the ammo and it’s up to us to win the battle with it every season.

When Britt and I moved into our current apartment we started a new tradition, we get our tree from Nick (obviously0, put it in the stand and let the branches fall for a few days. Once the tree is ready for its gown, we pull out all the decorations, I put up the lights and Britt puts together a charcuterie board that will cross your eyes. I pop on Home Alone 2: Lost in New York and we make that green canvas the most beautiful tree you’ve ever laid eyes on. Britt and I are very similar when it comes to Christmas ornaments, each one tells a story, places traveled and memories always worth reliving. This tradition is like having a drink with an old friend, it makes your soul grow and it’s my absolute favorite night of the year. I love this night more than Christmas itself, my birthday, Halloween, the Stanley cup (unless the Bruins are in it) or the fourth of July. This year we scored a fantastic tree and dolled her up so perfectly it would bring a tear to your damn eye. As I’m writing this the tree is four feet away. At this point it’s dry, bare, and probably a fire hazard but I’m still sad to see it leave (this was true when I wrote this draft one a month ago, the tree has since passed on but its needles live on wedged in our carpet fivers). We also have a small mountain of presents, even after four Christmases. My wife has a large family and when I said “I do” that became the captain’s family too, and I’m truly lucky for it. The holidays used to be so simple when I was just a me, now that I’m half of a we, it’s harder, but it’s better. Hard work is worth doing when you do what you love and I love my family, the bigger the better. That family isn’t always on the ship, but they’re always part of the crew. This year our last Christmas of four (I gave you my heart) will be the end of January and we can see our wildcard nieces and nephew and help spoil them. This year we are taking them on a tour of the INCREDIBLE Pez factory. Anyone that knows the good captain knows he’s a Pez head and has been since he was twelve. Luckily my little nuggets have become Pez heads too! Pez head is a term coined by nerdy Pez collectors ages ago and I’m stoked to have more in my crew. I love when my two nieces and nephew visit, each one always sneaks over and asks me for Pez, knowing I have it stashed in the house. I always sneak each one a handful of packs, one kid at a time so they think their stash is their own. I love feeding their love of Pez, helps remind me I belong in their stratosphere, and they belong in mine.

This year we broke Christmas up into a few days and nights. December 23rd was for my mother and father-in-law, my youngest brother-in-law and his lady. That night was a blast, I’m lucky enough to have brother in laws who I truly consider friends as well as family and their lovely partners as well. That morning of the 23rd was also the start of a new-ish tradition that is probably getting close to a decade and that’s seeing Muppet Christmas Carol at the mighty Coolidge Corner Theater. Muppet Christmas Carol is my number one favorite Christmas movie and I’m happy to have a grip of friends who share that sentiment and join me every year, singing every song, no cheese for us meeces. December 24th holds the longest and more unique Christmas tradition you’re likely to hear. When I was a middle schooler, I became friends with a boy that I had known since I was about seven years old, but it took us a few years to find one another, but when we did, we didn’t look back. Enter Brendan. One faithful Christmas eve morning in middle school, we were playing Tony Hawk Pro Skater, listening to punk and ska records sped up and our stomachs started to twitch. We decided to walk to the newly built McDonalds about a mile from Brendan’s house. We made it there, ate our weight in Mcmuffins and hashbrowns and declared this event needed to become a tradition, that was twenty-eight years ago. We have never missed a single year, even during Covid, we ate outside at a safe distance apart. I don’t know much, but I know it would take one of our deaths to ever shake that tradition. After some great breakfast we had Christmas number two with my aunt and cousins. X-mas eve night is back to Brendan’s place for a family party packed with amazing food and a Yankee swap that always ends in controversy. This year was no different. Brendan’s party is so engrained in our holiday plans, I have a tiki glass that ONLY lives at Brendan’s place, and I used it every visit. This year in addition to suffering another Yankee swap disappointment I was roped into a Russian roulette-esque game of jellybeans with Brendan’s daughter who made me eat booger and earwax flavored jellybeans! I think I was a good sport eating any jellybean that came across my desk. Christmas eve night has grown into another holiday tradition I look forward to, annual screening of Die Hard. The homie Benny and my big brother Jamie, we park on the couch with a drink in hand and watch John McClain defend Nakatomi Plaza. They always ask me to be quiet and NOT give them fun facts about the film’s production, but I must ignore that and give it as I see fit, hopefully they appreciate it (they hate it).

Christmas day has come! Exciting AND stressful! X-mas morning is with my parents and brother; gifts, stockings, A Christmas Story and a huge delicious breakfast. We typically spend a couple hours there, hit the road to the In-laws about 30 minutes away, it was about that time the lack of sleep and season kicked me down and I started to get sick in real time. Thankfully it wasn’t covid. The next stop was BACK to my parents for dinner and after eating I was broken. Whatever cold was going around got me and the zero sleep made me a zombie. I took a long hot shower at my parents’ place and fell asleep on the couch. Britt said I wasn’t driving home (good call) and I proceed to pass out in shotgun before we got to the end of the street. I woke up about five minutes from home and we were driving in a fog that would seem overkill in a low budget horror film, which only added to my weird headspace. That night I went to bed before 9pm for the first time in my entire life I think, woke up 12 hours later about half as sick as I was, still shaking it off over a month later, oh well.

Family Christmas had one last installment, big families are so great and I’m so grateful to have married into one, but holidays require some fancy footwork. Fancy footwork? Did I just say that? Well.. it’s true. Big brother-in-law and the kids had plans in warmer climates for the holiday and god damn was I jealous. The holiday dust settled and we got 90% of the in-laws in one place including my three favorite humans; my two nieces and my nephew. We ordered Chinese, watched football, opened some gifts (mostly the kids opened them) had a couple drinks, laughed, watched the kids get buzzed on sugar and I was only bit by 66% of them but they have sharp teeth, alas it could be worse. The kids all opened their invitations to tour the Pez Factory at once and freaked out! We can’t wait to take them to the motherland. Another chaotic holiday in the books, and I honestly would not have it any other way. It’s never easy but it’s always worth it.

Some mini updates from your intrepid captain since it’s been over a month since my last post. Look, I don’t do this for anyone other than myself, but I also want it to be a good read so at times it requires more of me. Alas the cap was low, mostly unemployed and battling against constant rouge waves. I’m going to get real vulnerable and say I’m a man who champions for therapy and in my own journey I’ve found my biggest challenge is facing an inner critic, which I’m positive many, if not ALL of us have. Mine pulls me apart most of my waking hours and I’m learning tools to fight back. I hope anyone suffering the same thing can find the weapons to do the same. Without purpose that critic dines out on every insecurity and relishes in the fact I’m down. While on the floor I grit my teeth and pulled myself up before I heard ‘TEN” and kept swinging. In that fury I received some hope from a homie always in my corner, my man DJ. He appeared from the shadows with a flashlight and a path, offering me a chance at a job. The job isn’t anything glamorous, but I feel great doing it and helping people where I can. The captain who once tried to plunder from others to gain his riches, he brings them medicine to their front door! All alter egos, framing devices and theatrics put aside, I’m a pharmaceutical courier. Luckily I can still captain the Angus and spin the Batmobile (my car) around Boston bringing the good folks their meds. I’m just happy to feel purpose again, no matter how small. The pay isn’t great but the shot in the arm to pull myself out of an extremely dark place feels incredible and I’m truly thankful. Okay, I’ve droned on about past holidays, new purpose and my drama enough. With that said, I’ll be back more frequently. Thank you for reading and as usual, keep smiling and stay tuned!