By Kim J. Harmon

I remember when Christmas was a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table, a little bowl of Hershey kisses on the counter, carols on the 30-year-old eight track stereo, the annual Christmas drawing by my older brother, and the several dry runs we kids took for that Christmas morning dash to the living room.

But this is 1999 and Christmas isn’t chocolate chip cookies, Hershey kisses, and tripping over ourselves seeing how fast we can get to the living room when the all clear is shouted from my parents’ bedroom. No, Christmas is an endless stream of web pages, so-called secure site warnings, inevitable mail delays and – for those crazy enough to actually go out on the road to, God help us, a mall – jammed parking lots, lines from here to Timbuktu, and drivers that stalk you as you walk back towards your car.

It’s a JUNGLE out there.

I thought I would play it safe by going on-line and doing most of my shopping there. Even though the cyberworld will get as jammed as any mall, at least no one is trying to run you over in the parking lot or trample you in the aisle trying to get their hands on the last deck of Pokemon cards left in the free world. Okay, a couple of my gifts are going to be delayed until after Christmas – but is that such a bad thing?

I mean, the other day I actually decided to brave the wilds looking for one other gift for my wife and was foolish enough to try and go to a store to look for it. I pulled into the parking lot and was making my way for an aisle that looked promising and – even though I was indicating where I intended to go and was driving in as cautious and non-threatening manner as I am capable – some lunatic in a pickup truck felt he just HAD to try and squeeze through the six inches or so that separated me and the bumper of a parked car.

A collision was narrowly avoided – by my quick braking – but it was clear that I wasn’t cut out for the untamed wilderness of outdoor holiday shopping.

Bah humbug.

No, actually, this is still a fun season even though I’m not a kid anymore. Like when my wife and I went to the toy store to pick through the detritus left behind from the initial post-Thanksgiving onslaught of shoppers for another gift for my seven-year-old son and, of course, we went picking through the sports aisles.

I saw lots of things he would like.

And lots more I would like.

I would pick up a football with a New York Giants logo on it and even though said to my wife, “Ben would like a new football,” I would be thinking “Man, feel the grips on this – I bet I can throw this thing 50 yards!”

Then I came to a box that held all the trappings of a football uniform – complete with helmet, shirt, pants, and pads – and even though I said to my wife, “Now this would be great,” I was thinking, “Why couldn’t I get anything like this when I was a kid?”

We finally settled on a basketball rim attached to a device that sits on the top of any door and not only plays real basketball-type music but keeps score and you try and sink as many baskets as you can in a certain amount of time while the rim actually moves from side to side, up and down. Even though my wife said, “Now, Ben would really love this!” I was thinking, “Cool – I can’t wait to play!”

I really can’t. I know it’s going to be his favorite present and not just because I picked it out.

It’s because it’s what I would have wanted when I was seven.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

 

As you scurry about in those last-minute shopping chores, head out for those holiday parties, and then vegetate on the couch watching football games after a nice Christmas dinner, I’ll leave you with an excerpt from Clement C. Moore’s immortal poem . . .

A Visit From_Saint Nicholas

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were all nustled snug in their bed,

While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads.

And mama in her kerchief, and I_in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap -

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I_sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I_flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutter and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,

Gave a lustre of midday to objects below.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I_knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick!

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.

“Now, Dasher! Now,_Dancer! Now,_Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet!, On, Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen -

To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall,

Now, dash away, dash away, dash away all!”

 

- Clement C. Moore