As an adult, it seems your priorities change radically from what they are when you were a child. More work, more stress, more expense, but through it all you need little as far as material things. You just want your children to be as happy as you were at their age. All I need is to see my grandchildren smile and maybe coerce a hug or two to make me happy.
Among all the things you got for Christmas, there was always that one, special thing that made you the happiest and that you never forgot. That may be part of the reason why A Christmas Story, that holiday institution, is something that so many of that era can relate to. The trials and tribulations of a young boy’s quest for a BB gun. We all lobbied at some point for something we just knew we’d die if we didn’t get.
Granny had a big walk-in closet where she hid things until she wrapped them. It wasn’t much of a secret, though. In 1960,she got me this:
Whenever she’d leave in the car I’d go into the closet and play with it without taking it off the card and had to act surprised when I unwrapped it on Christmas morning.
We didn’t have a lot of money but we always got at least one toy. There was a little store down the road from our farm that was run by two old sisters. It looked like something right out of a magazine. Wooden floors, a meat counter in the back, complete with sawdust on the floor and a cranky old man named Clyde Schlenk (never forget him), who would cut a piece of meat for you if you didn’t see what you wanted. Soda pop came in glass bottles and cost 10 cents.
Behind the counter were boxes of penny candy and nickel candy bars. A rack with 10-cent comics stood near the door with the Sunbeam Bread door pusher. When grandpa didn’t feel like getting up, he’d write a note and give me a dollar to ride my bicycle to the store to but him a pack of cigarettes. They sold them to me as long as I had the note. And he always wanted the change back from his dollar. He was a hard man when it came to his L&Ms.
They had a wooden shelf that went all the way around the store with some wonderful toys on it. Dolls, doll buggies, steel trucks, games, and, yes, a couple cap guns. (You KNEW that was coming, didn’t you?) I don’t recall saying anything to anybody, but there was a two gun rig made by Daisy, the BB gun maker, that had a dark finish and fake wooden grips. I thought they were so cool.
Apparently, my lust was obvious. All I can think is that the ladies must have seen how I gazed at them every time I came in, which was often. They had to have told my grandmother because it caught me completely off guard when I opened the package on Christmas morning and there they were. I was about 8 at the time, so it had to have been around 1958.
My own set of Daisy Bullseye cap pistols.
I strapped on those brushed leather holsters and I was the fastest gun in the West. Looking back, I seem to remember the grin on Granny’s face when I opened the box. Now that I’m a grandfather, I know what she was feeling. There’s nothing like a child’s squeal with delight when she gets something she’s been wanting. Sadly, too many kids today want the latest electronic gizmo with the most storage and such. How sad.
I can’t imagine in 40 years them telling their children, ‘I remember the Christmas I got the new I-phone 8 with mega memory and fast download speeds. I cuddled with it every night and dreamed of texting the entire civilized world.’ Meh.
THESE ARE THE GIFTS GOD HAS GIVEN ME. THEY ARE MUCH MORE THAN I DESERVE. ALL I WANT IS FOR THEM TO ALWAYS LOVE GOD AND EACH OTHER. THEY ARE THE GREATSET GIFT I COULD POSSIBLY RECEIVE.
My grandson,RJ,is playing freshman basketball this year.He’s only 14 and already 6’1″:.
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Beautiful family, Pete! You are so blessed.
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As long as we’re bragging, our nephew was recruited by a major Ivy League school to play baseball. They told him that so long as he completed his senior year in high school without messing up academically or getting injured, he would start with the varsity as a freshman.
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We had a neighborhood grocery store kind of like yours, Pete, just minus the toys. I got a dime for my weekly allowance and remember heading straight to Bud’s to agonize over the penny candy while Mrs. Bud more or less patiently waited while I decided how to divide up one nickel on fireballs, etc., before she got my favorite 5 cent fudge-cicle treat.
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It’s amazing how much candy you could get for a dime back then. I still remember skipping off to the Ben Franklin with my brother after we got our allowance and buying pixie sticks and jujubes and tootsie roll pops.
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And those colored sugar on a strip of paper and waxed lips. I liked fireballs the best, though.
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I know that “look” … when Warrior Princess was about 3 years old, we visited the old timey variety store in Stockbridge, MA, which is about 20 minutes from where Dearest grew up and the clan still gathers. She saw a Gund kangaroo mama with a little Joey in her pocket on the shelf and fell in love. I looked at the price tag — $18 (1988, with one income and 3 little ones … LOTSA moolah) — and made a face. She walked around the store again and again, stopping each time to gaze longingly. I finally told Dearest, “We have to get it for her.” “It’s too expensive!” “Look at her face!” “Oh yeah. You’re right. We have to get it.” I gotta give the kid credit. She never fell out of love with her Kanga and Joey. And she married a Joey. Hmmmm.
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I thought I’d google “Gund kangaroo” and darned if they don’t still make it. It’s $25-$30 now.
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That’s really cute. My eldest daughter was a major connoisseur of stuffed animals when she was little, and when she saw one she just had to have, her system was to show it to us and say wistfully, “I wish we could buy this.” (She wasn’t allowed to ask for things that cost money, so that was always her formulation: “I wish we could buy this.”) I would smile sympathetically and say “That’s very nice, now put it back and let’s go.” But inevitably, the next day her father would go back to the store without me and buy the toy in question for her.
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Girls and dads. 🙂
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Pete,
Seems you’re two years older than I. We have similar memories of our childhood Christmases. Nothing will ever be able to rob us of those sweet times.
Merry Christmas to you and your beautiful family.
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PoliticalClownParade, yeah, my abacus put me at 2 yrs younger than Pete, too. But I figured it based on 10¢ comic book price. By the time I got to buy my own comic (vs reading what older sibs got), it was up to 12¢. 🙂
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I spent almost 20 years selling antique and vintage toys.Basically reuniting baby boomers with the wonderful things they had in a happy childhood.The most common thing I heard at toy shows was:’I had one of those when I was a kid.’In many cases they wanted a toy they could not afford at the time,much like your warrior princess.As adults they use these unreachable treasures from their youth to complete themselves.
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I have to admit that it was very unnerving to me when I walked into an antique store and saw a table full of toys identical to the ones I’d played with as a child.
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All I want from Santa is an ice cold bottle of Coca-Cola from that old ice box. I can taste it now.
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