I won't be Home For Christmas, but.....

To no doing of my own, I will be spending Christmas on the solo in Charleston this year. I haven't really felt the Christmas spirit this year--see my previous blog here, but today I came across a little gem that, through the months of November and December became my religion. I think anyone who grew up from the 60's through the 90's can attest. Behold, the Sears Wish Book:

 Long before the Internet, facebook, and emailing Santa Clause, the Wish Book provided kids across the nation with the ability to circle gift favorites with big chunky crayons, and fold down page corners so that no parent was left unsure of what to get their kids for Christmas. The arrival of this book to my Grandparent's house marked the start of the season, and since I spent most of my afternoons after preschool, or regular school at my grandparent's house, flipping through the Wish Book, and the lesser J.C. Penney Christmas catalog was a completely legitimate, and exciting way to pass the time until my mom came to retrieve me. The only semblance of Christmas spirit I have found this season, has been my own flashback to my childhood as I remember all the cool gifts I got for Christmas. So in no particular order, I give you, my all time favorite Christmas gifts from days past--and yes, I'm sure I saw them first in the Wish Book.

1. Teddy Ruxpin: The first Christmas I remember celebrating was crazy awesome, and there were a lot of cool gifts present. One of my favorites this year was Teddy Ruxpin. The cool thing about Teddy Ruxpin, was that he could be hooked to pal Grubby--who my mom will always remember me lamenting not coming with Teddy. Apparently Teddy cost about $70, even way-back-when in the 80's, so I'm thankful I had him. By the way, my Teddy had a super trendy clothing line. Duh.




2. Firefly My Little Pony: That same Christmas--like I said, it was pure, unadulterated magic--pure--I noticed, first thing my favorite My Little Pony in a large stuffed form. I've always been whimsical, magical, and imaginary so of course the winged Pegasus, Firefly My Little Pony was my favorite.




3. Snoopy Plush: Somewhere between 4 and Kindergarten, I had a slight obsession with Snoopy. I realllllly wanted a plush snoopy, I mean really, really wanted one. Thank goodness Santa is in the business of providing miracles, and thank goodness my parents were able to find one after scouring all of Atlanta Georgia. I don't know where my original Snoopy is, and by the way, he too had a pretty kicking wardrobe thanks to my Granny, but my good ole' Pop still remembers my love for the Snoopy and I have two Snoopy plushes now.

4. Lavender Purple Unicorn Bike: Woah! Obviously, I had an obsession with all things magical, purple, whimsical, etc...etc...it only makes sense that this bike made it into my living room the Christmas
morning of my Kindergarten year.
Sadly, there are no pictures on the
Internet of this little charm.


5. Lil Miss Makeup Doll: So yeah, this doll looks like a little baby
 prostitute for reals--but, nothing brought me greater joy than taking
 the little makeup sponge and dipping it in water to wipe this doll's
 makeup on and off.





6. Three Story A-Frame Barbie Dream House: Was tha shit! I mean, way to live that American Dream Barbie--way to live it! This house could do so many things, and because it was in three pieces you could create multiple dream style homes for Barbie and friends.

7. Aladdin Bean Bag Chairs: Yeah--there were two. As it would happen, I got a brother along the way so those four years of baller Christmases where I got all the gifts were days gone by. Not to be sad though, because me and the brother got these bad boy bean bag chairs. As we got older, they became mechanisms with which to slide down the carpeted stairs on. Those chairs disappeared shortly after that trend.







8. Super NES: This has to be on most everyone's top most awesome Christmas gifts list. We had the NES and had just about killed our trigger fingers trying to kill that stupid Duck on Duck Hunt, when Santa did it again. He brought out the SNES and lots of games to go with it. And friends, this gift just keeps on giving, right on into the 21st Century. After years of bonding over Donkey Kong, and The Lion King, My brother and I finally beat the games in 2008. Much thanks to modern technologies like youtube that helped us defeat super difficult levels that no child should ever be expected to defeat on their own.

9. Mall Madness: The best board game EVER created. There's a sale at. the. sun. glasses. shop. It tried really hard to teach me about commodities and the dangerous of over spending--Bank Closed, and Sorry! Try again Later! were classic responses from the game's banking system.


10. Oh Jenny Dreamworld Play set: I'm not even sure kid's still play with doll houses or anything of the like with the modern advent of the Internet and games like the Sims, but I loved this little mini family set made by Matchbox. Placing this house and its components on the stone hearth we had in our house created extra magic.








11. NKOTB, AKA, New Kids on the Block stuff: You definitely had the right stuff if you were sporting anything NKOTB. One Christmas, I got a T-Shirt, a Cassette tape, annnnnd two NKOTB dolls. Whaaaaat.

This is Real Life, and This...is Real Christmas

I used to love Christmas time. The holiday season would start as my family woke up to Macy's Christmas parade, and the smell of turky in the oven. The family would gather around a huge southern meal and then press repeat as we trotted over to my Granny and Paw's house to enjoy another gorge fest. Then, shortly after, and in some rare occasions, on the same day, I would celebrate my birthday by shaking and tearing off pieces of wrapping paper from birthday presents that sat under our already decorated Christmas tree. After my birthday, the countdown for Christmas was on, and a good indicater that we were getting close came in a large, brown UPS box from Pensylvania. My brother and I would wage war against our parents and make peace pacts in order that mom and dad would allow us to delve into the large box that contained our Christmas presents and homemade Christmas cookies from our Northern Grandmother and family. Once that brown UPS box was devoured, the days were numbered for when Christmas day would arrive with all it's magic and splendor. Our house was filled with warm smells of cookies, and delicious Christmas treats, the sounds of Christmas carols, and laughter from Christmas movie marathons.

Now, I'm an adult with two real adult jobs and to say that the magic and spirit of Christmas have been stripped from my life is a slight understatement. I have to work two jobs--it's the only way my bills, and more importantly, that nagging student loan get fed. Recently, my job has taken away our holiday days, and has left me unable to go home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. With no days, and an ever shrinking budget, finding the financial means to take an upaid day off from work, plus buy everyone presents has been more than I can handle. People at work talk about going to the mountains for Christmas to open presents, or about attending holiday parties with copious amounts of food and alcohol (the new, adult spirit of Christmas) but I can't find myself being excited about any of it. I miss my magical Christmas with my family, and if I can't have that, then I might as well not have Christmas at all.

Now, at 30, my apartment shows no resemblance of Christmas, and those classic tunes and television shows that I once cherrished are no longer splashed across my television screen for weeks before the big day. Instead, I've come to realize how possible it is for people to truly disregard the season. There are pressures to go home--going home, when you can't afford it, there are pressures to buy people nice gifts and reflect your success when you hang out with family you haven't seen all year, and then even the stress of facing those in your family who have long since disregarded you.

Christmas for me was never about the material, it was about my family, the festivities, and the magic. It's been 13 years since that brown cardboard box come from Pensylvania, but this is the first year that the magic is gone for me.

It's All Excess in Capitalism and the American Fair

 

It's been a good five years or so since I've graced the muddy, littered grounds of an American Fair. It's no surprise that such an event has long positioned itself as a great American Tradition because as soon as you walk through the gate you are fully immersed in the tantalizing scents of barbecue, smoked turkey legs, funnel cakes, and endless fried candy concoctions. The bright, sparkling, and colorful lights of the carnival rides mesmerize and send people of all ages into hypnotic trances as they slowly, and zombiely walk around the grounds trying to figure out which piece of entertainment to take in first. And it truly is all fun and games--until you look around and see what the Fair has become, or better yet--what it represents.

I don't have to write to you about the time of extreme excess that we live in--it should be obvious. But then again, the very things I find to be obvious, really aren't so. Never-the-less, the Fair, in all it's modern glittering goodness, has historically always functioned as a capitalist space where laborers and trade merchants showed up to show off their animals and goods. Today, the fair has transformed into a showcase of excess--and I suppose, to some degree, fairs have always been about excess, but if our medieval ancestors could see us now, I think they would choke on their turkey legs and pursue immediate birth control options in order to prevent the future we have become.

The Fair has, and always will be middle class entertainment--but, to me, it seems that it has become more of a playground for the Plebeian Proletariat being duped by capitalist Bourgeoisie.  I journeyed through two gates--one charging me $8 just to get into this fun fest, and another charging me $20 to participate in the rides. I'm a professional--I work two jobs, and live fairly comfortably, but $28 just to participate in a make-shift amusement park seemed a bit steep. Most important of all--I am single--a rare anomaly at the fair, I soon found out.

I entered a kind of sickening daze as I noticed screaming, sticky, slobbering obese children running amok through the grounds with plates piled high with sugary, greasy, fried desserts while their equally obese parents wobbled closely behind toting gigantic stuffed animals that probably cost them a days worth of wages to win--and need I mention the price it cost these non-birth control practicing parents to take their bratty litters of progeny to the fair for the day?

We are the generation of me, where ride neighbor, and even fellow carny are just exchangeable commodities. People rush around the fair consuming massive amounts of food, and throwing money away on the precept of winning gigantic prizes to impress their friends with and then return to their homes, bills unpaid, and locked into an inescapable poverty. It's a swirling mess of bright colors, muddy grounds, and a dream, an American Dream left dying in the past. But maybe the Fair is all some of us have got.