Favorite Christmas

[2jakes]

What was your favorite Christmas ? For me , when I was 10 yrs. I got the
Western Flyer Deluxe Bicycle.

Also when all the grownups got together @ my grandmother's home. Remembering all my aunts in
the kitchen preparing "home-made" tamales & mexican beans in clay pots …we didn't know about
the lead content back then. :eusa_doh: There was no television , just good music , dancing & interesting talks.

" I don't want to live in the past…I just don't want to forget it " Jake Gittes.

 

[Canadian]

My favorite Christmas was when my parents and my little brother came to see me, Christmas morning when I was in hospital. I couldn't go home, but they put off Christmas morning to come see me. I'll never forget that.

 

[Big Man]

I don't know if I have a "favorite" Christmas or not, as all our Christmas times are special. However, as I get older, the earlier times are more dear to me.

This was Christmas 1956. That's me with my parents. I still have that little Jack-in-the-Box that I got that year for Christmas.

This is Christmas 1958. I believe this is the first Christmas that I can really fully remember. That fire truck must have got me started, as I've spent the past 32 years as a Firefighter. I wish I still had that truck.

 

[Big Man]

With Christmas fast approaching again, maybe it's time to renew this thread.

 

[LizzieMaine]

1973. I got my first tape recorder that year, a cheap little battery-operated thing, but it was the first step toward my eventual career in radio. And it happened that when I set it up in the living room that Christmas morning and switched it on, it was just moments later that the piece of old string securing the Christmas tree to the wall snapped, and the tree tipped over. Chaos was at once in bloom, with Ma bellowing "THE TREE IS TIPPING OVER, PICK IT UP! PICK IT UP!" my sister screaming hysterically, and my little brother - who was obsessed with his own favorite present of the moment -- repeatedly yelling "Weebles! Weebles! Weebles!" And me, in the midst of it, laughing so hard I wet myself.

We played that tape every Christmas for years and years afterward, until it finally wore out, but we can still word for word quote the entire thing. "PICK THAT TREE UP OR EVERYTHING'S GOIN' OUT THE DOOR FLYIN'! LIZZIE STOP PUSHIN'" "I'M NOT PUSHIN' I'M HOLDIN'." "WELL LET GO! NO! NO! NO!" "WEEBLES! WEEBLES" WEEBLES!"

My brother is now forty-three years old, and he will never live that down.

 

[Babydoll]

Is his nickname Weebles?

 

[LizzieMaine]

It was until another incident resulted in his being renamed "Little Pantleg," a name which he bears to this day. (He's six foot three, which makes it even funnier. )

 

[Babydoll]

Ha! Sounds like my family.

 

[Stearmen]

I think my best Christmas, was the last one my Mother was alive for. She was sick on Christmas day 2010, so we postponed it. When we finally had it, my sister and I went and bought a Red Velvet cake at Safeway, and a bucket of KFC. It was very relaxing, no dishes, no formal attire, just nice conversation, and good company!

 

[Fading Fast]

Big Man, great shots of your Christmas - thank you for sharing. Your parents make a great looking couple - no surprise seeing your Dad that you are a big guy. That said, my Dad was 6'4" +/- 230lbs and I'm 6'1" 150lbs. (and worry about a strong breeze lifting me off the ground) - sometimes the size doesn't transfer through the gene pool.

 

[Doctor Strange]

We were Jewish so we never celebrated Xmas, but I have a little story that I never tire of telling the other jacket geeks here:

About ten years ago, I got a Wested Raiders lambskin jacket that I totally love. After wearing it for two years, I tore a big gash in the back panel when it got caught on the edge of a slamming car door. (Yes, lambskin is indeed a fragile leather!) I negotiated a repair with Wested - who said that they couldn't promise that the color/grain of the replacement panel would match precisely - and agreed on a price of 40 pounds for the repair and return shipping, and that there was no rush because it was mid-November and it would be months until the spring jacket weather.

At the time, I was living in an odd little hamlet (for Westchester County) that had no street mail delivery, every resident got a free PO box. I got a phone call from the postmaster on the afternoon of Xmas Eve, which was a Saturday that year, saying there was a package for me, and that even though the PO was closed, he'd give it to me if I'd come right over, since it was likely an Xmas gift. Of course, it was the Wested jacket - which was a big surprise because my credit card hadn't been billed. It was repaired perfectly, with the new panel a nearly exact color match, and the only enclosed paperwork was a little slip that said, "Happy Christmas. No charge."

So the moral of this story is: not only are the folks at Wested amazing above-and-beyond types, but even a Jewish guy like me can experience a Christmas miracle!

 

[Harp]

What was your favorite Christmas ?

Christmas 1974, which my Mom thought I would spend in Saigon, but circumstance routed me to Bethlehem.
I was going to telephone home upon arrival in Israel, but fate intervened and I spent that Christmas in Athens, Greece. [angel]

 

[Fading Fast]

We were Jewish so we never celebrated Xmas, but I have a little story that I never tire of telling the other jacket geeks here:

About ten years ago, I got a Wested Raiders lambskin jacket that I totally love. After wearing it for two years, I tore a big gash in the back panel when it got caught on the edge of a slamming car door. (Yes, lambskin is indeed a fragile leather!) I negotiated a repair with Wested - who said that they couldn't promise that the color/grain of the replacement panel would match precisely - and agreed on a price of 40 pounds for the repair and return shipping, and that there was no rush because it was mid-November and it would be months until the spring jacket weather.

At the time, I was living in an odd little hamlet (for Westchester County) that had no street mail delivery, every resident got a free PO box. I got a phone call from the postmaster on the afternoon of Xmas Eve, which was a Saturday that year, saying there was a package for me, and that even though the PO was closed, he'd give it to me if I'd come right over, since it was likely an Xmas gift. Of course, it was the Wested jacket - which was a big surprise because my credit card hadn't been billed. It was repaired perfectly, with the new panel a nearly exact color match, and the only enclosed paperwork was a little slip that said, "Happy Christmas. No charge."

So the moral of this story is: not only are the folks at Wested amazing above-and-beyond types, but even a Jewish guy like me can experience a Christmas miracle!

Great story and living in a hamlet (shocked something like that still exists in Westchester) with a postman working overtime on Christmas Eve is the perfect setting and ending - almost a Hallmark Christmas special but without the mawkishness.