I MISS THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS PAST.

Christmas was different when I was a child.

Here is a little bit of how I remember Christmas past and why I wish we could return to those simpler times.

All talk of decorations, advertisements and items related to that festive time started the day after Thanksgiving, and not a minute sooner! Sure, our parents did not have the power to stop what we were thinking, but they were very successful in postponing the lists and begging that now start a little before Halloween. It seemed to me, as a kid, that the “adults” had conspired to banish that “Most Wonderful Time Of The Year” until after all of the Thanksgiving dishes were washed, dried and put away.

The Friday after Thanksgiving (Now known as Black Friday) opened the floodgates for toymakers to inundate children’s shows with commercials for GI Joe, Barbie, Silly Putty, Play-Doh, Chatty Cathy and so many others. For those 5 weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas we watched TV for the gift ideas as much as the shows. When we weren’t watching we could be found with our noses in the Sears Catalog, maybe circling items or tearing out pages so Santa could see exactly what we wanted.

I remember salivating while lying on the area rug in front of our black and white TV during the early 1960’s. It was at least three years in a row that I made the #1 item on my list a replica car dashboard that included a steering wheel, horn, speedometer, blinkers (Turn Signals), rear-view mirror and windshield. I pictured myself “helping” my mom drive by clipping my dashboard to hers and acting as co-pilot. If you’re curious, I never did get it. I was the 5th of 6 kids and often Santa’s budget eliminated the more expensive gifts. Or, it could have been the simple fact that my mom had enough distractions driving 6 kids around town in our 1959 Mercury Montery that she chose not to add a co-pilot to her challenges.

Back then it was acceptable not to get your top picks. My parents, especially when they got down to kids five and six, were fairly adept at explaining why Santa chose not to go with our wishes. There is a funny, I think, story related to that:

When my oldest brothers were toddlers, they asked for big Tonka Toy trucks for Christmas. My parents, always on a budget, bought them smaller trucks that fit within their Christmas allotment. It was our family tradition to go to the city for holiday parties. That year mom and dad took the beginnings of their family (The first three boys) to my dad’s side of the family. Dad was several years younger than his nearest sibling and, for that reason, my three oldest brothers were the center of attention, they were the only small kids there. Everyone at the party asked them what they got from Santa. My brothers answered in unison every time, “An itty bitty dump truck and an itty bitty fire engine.” My mom and dad were more than a little embarrassed and sad feeling they let their children down on Christmas Day. My dad’s family meant no harm but, as the story goes, everyone who entered naturally went to the littlest kids and asked, “Was Santa good to you this year?” And these little kids, having no idea they were throwing mom and dad under the bus, vented about their recent disappointment!

Back in the late 50’s and early 60’s indoor shopping malls were very rare. According to Google the first one was built in 1956. I remember the bulk of our Christmas purchases were done in downtown shopping districts or an outdoor shopping center near our house.

One of my favorite Christmas time memories was a shopping trip with my dad. He took all six kids out into the dark, cold midwestern night to shop for gifts for my mom (As an adult, I do believe this gave mom a chance to wrap our presents undisturbed). I was about five years old. Dad parked on the street and started bringing us from store to store to allow each of us to pick out their present for mom. I remember it was cold, the streets hadn’t been cleared snow was still falling. There was about 5 inches of slush accumulated in the gutters. Dad was trying to shepherd six kids ages 3-12 safely across a busy downtown street when I was poetically struck by the scene. There was the typical hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers, car horns honking (Probably at us), corner Santa Clauses ringing their bells collecting for charity, snow falling peacefully, Christmas lights hanging from the streetlights and adorning all of the stores. I thought it was a beautiful scene so I stopped to soak it in. Granted, the middle of the intersection was probably not a good place to do that. Dad grabbed me under my arm and pulled me from the path of a car whose driver might have been taking in the scene also (rather than looking for little boys standing in the street). When dad scooped me up a bunch of the slush went into my boot, but I realized it wouldn’t be prudent to complain immediately after he saved my life and after I stopped in the street as he was saying, “Hurry up, it looks like this guy isn’t going to stop.”

Speaking of boots that is another memory I cherish. Does else anyone remember the rubber boots that fit over your dress shoes? They were the “Uniform of the Day” every day of the winter in my grade school years. My dad had a pair too. The only difference was I had buckles and he had zippers.

Visiting our Chicago relatives during the Christmas season would always take us on trips down side streets. Inevitably we would see several “Polk Brothers Santas.” Polk Brothers was a local store that gave plastic Santas out with the purchase of and appliance. I would beg my dad to get one every year and he would never commit. I know it was my own fault- I just couldn’t close the deal and convince him to buy an expensive appliance just to acquire the “FREE” Santa. I did mention the budgets earlier, didn’t I?

The best part of Christmas past for me, the part I miss the most was the attitude, the joy it brought. From Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day most people said, “Merry Christmas and A Happy New Year to you!” instead of “Hi” or “How are you?”

This attitude of joy would build from Thanksgiving and get louder and stronger as each day passed. I pumped gas when I was in high school, and The Christmas Season was the best time to be working. I’ve already mentioned the bad weather. Believe me, the cold, snow, slush… made it difficult, the happiness of the season made it beautiful!

Even the sourest of customers would crack a smile when you said, “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” It felt good to say it too, I miss it.

I believe no longer saying Merry Christmas is one of the many things we do in our society today that is initiated in the name of that ominous “ONE PERSON,” but hurts many more people in the end.

“If only one person is offended we shouldn’t say it.” “If only one person could be infected we should all wear masks” “If only one person is uncomfortable going into a restroom designated MENS or LADIES we should add non-specific restrooms or allow people to go in whichever restroom they choose to. I have touched on this subject before and will again but for now I’m drifting off topic- sorry.

I would like to end with, “MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL OF YOU! May 2023 bring you health, happiness and success!”

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Thank you for reading to the end.