BEING GIFTED...

...It is that time of year, don't ya know...

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Uh, that would be Christmas-gifted, not Actually Gifted. December 15th, it is. It's the time when presents begin to accumulate under the Christmas Tree, and there's all kinds of package-shaking and rattling going on behind the backs of Parental Authority Figures. I must admit right here and now that I opened some presents before Christmas Morning. I was such a bad boy. In spite of such a huge transgression, I never turned to a life of crime. Of course, I don't have a Christmas Tree, and I don't get presents anymore, but that's enough about me. This blog-post isn't about me. Whoops, it IS about me, 'cos if it isn't, this post will run dry long before it gets boring. You're bored already? Uh-oh...

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I was trying to think of something to post about, so I thought, "why not list some of the Christmas Presents I got over the years?" So what-all did I get for Christmas in years past? One year, I got a huge Crayola Crayons set; it came in a gold box about the size of a Monopoly (TM) board, and it contained something like 200 crayons. I should've taken better care of it; after 2 or 3 months, I guess I'd quit using it, 'cos I don't remember a lot about it. I was in a grocery store a few months ago, and I came upon a back-to-school display featuring stuff such as erasers, pens, pencils, Pee-Chee folders, and boxes of Crayons. I picked up a box and sniffed, and yep, that old familiar Crayon fragrance eminated forthwith, which took me waaay back, and you know, the Air-Freshener makers are really missing out...how about "Febreze" coming out with a crayon-scented room spray? Come on, guys, get with it! I also liked the 64-crayon size, triple-tiered in the crayon box, with the little crayon sharpener on its backside...that was really cool, although if you actually tried to sharpen your crayon, you'd end up shaving off 1/3rd of your crayon...
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I was so excited when I got a little JC Penney's portable phonograph one Christmas Day long ago. How long ago? I'm dating myself here, but that little phono had TUBES, and if you turned up the volume too high, you'd blow a tube, resulting in the music sounding something like yer average popcorn-popper or fingernail-scratch on a Chalkboard. So, why make a phonograph that blows out its own tubes? Some things I just don't understand. The phono's lid was only about 2/3rd's the size of its base, so when you closed the lid, the phono's speaker was left uncovered, which was great in the case of seven-inch 45rpm singles; you could close the lid when 45's were playing, but not 12-inch LPs. As a matter of fact, its turntable was a little over seven inches in diameter, which meant that if you played an LP, a little over two inches of the vinyl hung out over the turntable's edge. And the lid would fall and Clomp on the edge of your LP if you weren't careful. I've been trying to find another one of those phonos on Ebay for years without luck. It was a really-cool little phono. I think it was a "Penn-Crest" phono, that being Penneys' trademark for household stuff.
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One Christmas, I got a little "Craig" tape recorder which held three-inch reels; the same model as used on the old "Mission Impossible" TV Series. Here, I'm dating myself by admitting I had a TAPE recorder. Recording Tape is barely used anymore, what with all the digital technology out there. The tape speeds of my little recorder were one and 7/8's and three and a 1/2 IPS (Inches Per Second), and you changed tape speeds by physically removing or adding a little metal post (capstan, for you tekkies), which allowed the recorder's internal workings to plod along at the same old speed whilst doubling or halving the tape-speed. I wore that recorder out. It got to the point where the recording and playback capabilities got erratic; perhaps the recorder wouldn't record, or if it did, at an almost-inaudible volume, and then upon playback, volume roared out-of-control from the recorder's speaker, yea, verily, like the Mighty Surf. That, too, got tossed by the wayside. "Buy, buy, says the sign in the shop window, Why, why says the Junk in the yard?" (A Paul McCartney lyric there)

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Some other cool things I got for Christmas: An Etch-A-Sketch, complete with Mercury leaking out of the two direction-dials at the bottom. Are Etch-A-Sketches still even Made? Potential Toxic Poisoning from a Christmas Toy. What a Hoot! One year I got a "Crash-Mobile", which consisted of pieces that, once put together, resembled a Car. Then, you'd smash your Crash-mobile into a wall, and it would break up into pieces, which you'd re-assemble and 'repeat process' over and over until it drove your parents crazy. Maybe Evel Knievel coulda been a product developer for the Crash-Mobile...? One year, my sister and I both received cans of something called "Play-Doh", a goopy substance resembling clay, except that if you didn't put your Play-Doh (TM) back in the can and seal it, it would dry out. Play-doh really smelled good, though. I wonder how many kids tried to Eat the stuff...
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One Yule, I got a bunch of "Duncan" Yo-Yos, and although I wasn't coordinated enough to do fancy tricks, I had a 'Satellite' Yo-Yo, a 'Whistler' Yo-Yo (as the Yo-Yo spun, little devices attached on both sides would whistle!), I got a 'Butterfly' Yo-Yo, which was basically a basic Yo-Yo turned inside out, but my favorite was the 'Imperial' Yo-Yo. No-frills, smooth and sleek and it had some real weight to it. I loved my Yo-Yos. But they, too, just kinda disappeared with the years. By the way, Tommy Smothers of the Smothers Brothers, is tops when it comes to Yo-Yo spinning. Certainly, he didn't have to worry about any competition from me. I can "walk the dog", I can shoot the yo-yo out ahead of me in a sort of attack mode, and I can do the "round the world" (360-degrees), but for those endlessly complicated Yo-Yo tricks, I didn't have it. Actually, that's the way it's been with me all my life: To a point, I could do anything, and then I'd top-off and could never get better. So I'm not really very good at much of anything.
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On another Christmas, I was surprised by a big flat trapezoid-shaped box under the tree with my name on it. No matter how much I shook it, I couldn't figure out what it was. I opened it...it was a GUITAR. My Dad hated Elvis, he hated the Beatles, he hated Rock and Roll, and at the time, I never said I wanted a Guitar for Christmas. (Maybe he thought I would sing Hank Williams tunes?) So I held the guitar in my arms for the first time, and going thru my brain was the thought, "what the Heck am I gonna do with this?" Dad showed me a few chords, but basically I tried to play bass notes to records, but I wasn't really playing; Dad said I was just 'plunking', and ya know, he was right. Then again he was Always Right. Right? A few years later at North Idaho Junior College, I saw some classmates playing chords to popular songs, and 'click', got my guitar, and joined in, and went from there. I don't have the coordination to be a lead guitarist; I play mainly chords (another case where I reached a level of proficiency and couldn't get any better). Lately I've been finger-picking; the rationale behind that is, you can't drop a finger...as I age, I seem to drop guitar picks more than I used to. What's up with that?

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I think the Christmas Gift I got the most use out of was an old G.E. "Mustang 200" portable stereo. You could pile up to six records on the spindle, and after one album (or single) side played, 'Plop', another record came down on top of it. Any more than 6 stacked albums and massive disc-slippage would result. At the end of the record, the tone-arm would lift itself off the record...the mechanics in the motor resulted in a 'click-click-click, whirrr', as the tone arm moved away so the next record could drop down, and then 'click-click-click' some more as the tone arm came back to play another disc. The speakers were attached to the unit, and the whole apparatus, when not in use, could be folded up into something resembling a suitcase. I wonder whatever happened to it. I bought a slightly updated version of it on Ebay some time ago, and I play it once in a while, watching the record spin around, like I used to do way back then. It's a wonder my eyeball muscles haven't gotten all warped out. But maybe they have. My left eyeball actually drifts toward the right side. I was diagnosed with that. Which could potentially take husbands off the hook; it would be okay to be married and still have a Wandering Eye...
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Somehow, somewhere along the away, Christmas lost a lot of its magic. As a little kid, lying in my bed on Christmas Eve, I thought I'd actually heard reindeer hooves on the roof. And as the years flew past, I still received and gave Christmas Presents, but it didn't mean as much. A few years ago when I drove cab, I asked the boss-lady what she was going to get for Christmas, and her answer mirrored my own outlook: "If I want something, I just go out and buy it", and yeah, that's where I'm at. Christmas is for kids. If kids these days are half as enraptured by the whole holiday-season concept as I was, then all is not lost. But don't say "The Holidays". It's Christmas. Let's not concern ourselves with political-correctness for a while. I'm no religious wacko, but I still, even for just a few moments, get that 'Christmas' feeling, especially on Christmas Eve. It still is special, that Christmas Feeling, even if only for a few hours. I believe Christmas is Holy; I've felt that way all my life. I still remember sitting out in the living room, which was darkened, in front of the Christmas Tree so many years ago. I always felt pangs of depression when the Tree was taken down. I don't like it when things are Over.

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But this post has to end now, so I'll leave something for you to ponder: Where did all the cool Christmas presents you received when you were a kid disappear to? It's almost like they evaporate into thin air after a while. Maybe they do.