Ignore that meme that's going around
Dec. 1st, 2005 12:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shalanna. . . again, please DO NOT post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP memory of you and me. Really. Meme or no meme. And I know none of you have any racy memories of us (okay, maybe Dennis, but he can't make the system take his comments without an LJ account, nyah-nyah ;), so he can't make anything up), so I'm not worried.
Who comes up with these memes?
How in the hell did it get to be the first of December? The house payment and two car payments due again, the various credit card bills due in a couple of weeks again, the utilities and the gasoline card . . . and I need to get the tree put up and the lights up on the outside of the house.
There is nothing I want for Christmas. Nothing that a mortal has the power to give, anyway. ("If anyone asks you, 'Are you a god?' YOU SAY 'Yes!'"*) And it's kind of weird, actually.
I remember that when I was a little child, I took all kinds of pleasure in just looking at the lights, going to the mall and other decorated places and taking in the scenery, seeing all the happy laughing people, studying the other children as we waited in line to sit on Santa's lap and scream and cry, etc. And I loved looking at the tree, planning how to wrap the presents I was giving, etc. The religious basis for the holiday was not lost on me, and we used to go caroling around the neighborhood (and, later, at nursing homes) and play "Secret Santa" or go to the various Angel Trees to do the Santa thing. We always did some version of observing Advent. There was the cooking and baking and cookie-exchanging. But. . . .
. . . the biggest anticipation was for whatever it was that I wanted to get. Yes, friends, I always had some THING or another that I thought was the be-all and end-all that would make our lives complete. The earliest one I recall was that I asked for a puppy. My dad was afraid of dogs (from his childhood) and Mama had a heartbreaking experience with her childhood dog, so what I got instead of a puppy was a mechanical dog that actually walked and barked. He was a big plastic basset hound called "Gaylord," and I think he was made by Ideal or Hasbro. He ran on six D batteries. That year Santa also brought me Baby First Step, and my grandmother got all the girl children in the family a Pebbles (Flintstone) doll. The next year the big gift was a vanity and buffet--child-sized furnishings with all kinds of neat stuff inside. The buffet had a palm-sized chrome-plated candelabra with three plastic candles that we still had up until my mom's house fire. The buffet had play makeup. Those were grand. I also got a "Playmobile," which was the dashboard and windshield and steering wheel and console of a car of the 1960s that you could sit at to pretend to drive. It wasn't the entire car, just the console. It had a horn that honked, wipers that wiped, a radio that had buttons to push, and a pushbutton transmission. You turned the key and the "motor" sound started. It was really cool. I sold it at a toy sale that we held to raise money for my piano when I was sixteen. It still worked, although I'd gotten it when I was five or thereabouts. When I got to be a teenager, there was always some piece of clothing that Everyone Was Wearing, plus the Polaroid camera of the year and a stereo now and then. Back then, that was the thing. Compare to getting an MP3 player and cell phone and/or blackberry today.
But anyhow, several years ago all of that faded. I found that I liked admiring the piles of stuff under the tree, and dreaded having to open them and ruin the anticipation and end the official waiting period. I actually cannot think of one thing that I need or really want for Christmas. I mean, my mom is getting me Jerry Lewis's new book, but it's not going to be the same kind of thrill as getting Pebbles was (for example). Is it because I could go out and buy things for myself? Is it that I'm jaded? Because we don't have any children (not by choice--I just couldn't have children and we couldn't afford to adopt)? Is it that we have too much already? I don't know. All I know is that this year, I really can't think of one thing that I need to get for Christmas.
I can think of several things that I want to get to give to other people. That's still going to be fun. We'll have a "household gift" or two. But basically I think this will be more of a contemplative Christmas than a materialistic one.
Who comes up with these memes?
How in the hell did it get to be the first of December? The house payment and two car payments due again, the various credit card bills due in a couple of weeks again, the utilities and the gasoline card . . . and I need to get the tree put up and the lights up on the outside of the house.
There is nothing I want for Christmas. Nothing that a mortal has the power to give, anyway. ("If anyone asks you, 'Are you a god?' YOU SAY 'Yes!'"*) And it's kind of weird, actually.
I remember that when I was a little child, I took all kinds of pleasure in just looking at the lights, going to the mall and other decorated places and taking in the scenery, seeing all the happy laughing people, studying the other children as we waited in line to sit on Santa's lap and scream and cry, etc. And I loved looking at the tree, planning how to wrap the presents I was giving, etc. The religious basis for the holiday was not lost on me, and we used to go caroling around the neighborhood (and, later, at nursing homes) and play "Secret Santa" or go to the various Angel Trees to do the Santa thing. We always did some version of observing Advent. There was the cooking and baking and cookie-exchanging. But. . . .
. . . the biggest anticipation was for whatever it was that I wanted to get. Yes, friends, I always had some THING or another that I thought was the be-all and end-all that would make our lives complete. The earliest one I recall was that I asked for a puppy. My dad was afraid of dogs (from his childhood) and Mama had a heartbreaking experience with her childhood dog, so what I got instead of a puppy was a mechanical dog that actually walked and barked. He was a big plastic basset hound called "Gaylord," and I think he was made by Ideal or Hasbro. He ran on six D batteries. That year Santa also brought me Baby First Step, and my grandmother got all the girl children in the family a Pebbles (Flintstone) doll. The next year the big gift was a vanity and buffet--child-sized furnishings with all kinds of neat stuff inside. The buffet had a palm-sized chrome-plated candelabra with three plastic candles that we still had up until my mom's house fire. The buffet had play makeup. Those were grand. I also got a "Playmobile," which was the dashboard and windshield and steering wheel and console of a car of the 1960s that you could sit at to pretend to drive. It wasn't the entire car, just the console. It had a horn that honked, wipers that wiped, a radio that had buttons to push, and a pushbutton transmission. You turned the key and the "motor" sound started. It was really cool. I sold it at a toy sale that we held to raise money for my piano when I was sixteen. It still worked, although I'd gotten it when I was five or thereabouts. When I got to be a teenager, there was always some piece of clothing that Everyone Was Wearing, plus the Polaroid camera of the year and a stereo now and then. Back then, that was the thing. Compare to getting an MP3 player and cell phone and/or blackberry today.
But anyhow, several years ago all of that faded. I found that I liked admiring the piles of stuff under the tree, and dreaded having to open them and ruin the anticipation and end the official waiting period. I actually cannot think of one thing that I need or really want for Christmas. I mean, my mom is getting me Jerry Lewis's new book, but it's not going to be the same kind of thrill as getting Pebbles was (for example). Is it because I could go out and buy things for myself? Is it that I'm jaded? Because we don't have any children (not by choice--I just couldn't have children and we couldn't afford to adopt)? Is it that we have too much already? I don't know. All I know is that this year, I really can't think of one thing that I need to get for Christmas.
I can think of several things that I want to get to give to other people. That's still going to be fun. We'll have a "household gift" or two. But basically I think this will be more of a contemplative Christmas than a materialistic one.
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no subject
Date: 2005-12-01 04:19 am (UTC)This is probably fairly common, really. I also remember the thrill of getting presents wqhen I was little. I used to ask for one or two things I reallyreallyreally wanted, figuring if I kept my list short my chances were better of ending up with the plastic Silver (Lone Ranger's horse, for anyone who doesn't remember--although I bet most of you do!) with jointed legs and tack. It worked too.
The year I really did get a puppy? I didn't speak for the rest of the day. Overwhelming.
I also remember when I noticed that presents were less important to me--and yes, anticipation and wondering what was in the boxes was far better than actually finding out.
I've also noticed that nowadays, like you, I get really excited about the presents I give. It's kind of a thrill to pick out something I think the person will just love and then wait for their reaction. That might be part of the letdown with the gifts we get, sometimes--I hate giving gifts when I can't think of anything that really speaks to the person and says I know who they are, and it isn't much fun to get stuff that was clearly picked out in desperation at the last minute. It's not fun when it's an obligation or when you think the giver wasn't really thinking about who the recipient is.
I don't think you're jaded, I think you're just a grownup--of course things are new and exciting when you're a little kid, because you're new and exciting, too. I still get those "ooh" moments, just about different things (I still can't quite believe that polka-dot pony is really mine, and I bought her myself!) I bet you do, too.
And besides, Christmas this year has got to be better than Thanksgiving, right? ;)
I can't believe it's December, either--and nine degrees Celsius before the sun came up this morning! That's not December weather!