Cathy Clarkson's Life is Funny: Condensing Christmas into one hour

By CATHY CLARKSON

I am the kind of gal who has to gradually merge into the holiday season. First I put in my big toe, then my foot, and I keep going slowly until I finally decide to enjoy Christmas… just before it’s over.

This is my routine: On Thanksgiving Day I look through newspaper ads and begin to badmouth all gift- giving. I make a bah-humbug plan that includes giving everyone an ornament made from recycled car tires.
But this attitude goes completely down the drain the first time I enter a store and hear Bing Crosby singing “White Christmas.”

Suddenly my heart becomes fluttery, my hands sweat, and a new “gotta have everything” belief system enters my soul.

Before I know it, I have grabbed a bouncy-ball made like a chicken and when it’s squeezed an egg comes out. I am convinced that this bouncy-ball chicken is what my children need in order to have a Merry Christmas.

Bing Crosby quits singing and is replaced by dogs barking to the tune of “Jingle Bells.” I experience an epiphany that my beagle dogs, Jack and Lucy, need to have Christmas stockings. I spy an organic dog bone that has been woven into a candy cane and slam-dunk two of these into my shopping cart. It seems I believe that getting stockings and fake bones for my dogs is a part of the life force of Christmas.

But recently I heard a question on a radio show that made me stop thinking of my Christmas to-do list and instead got me to thinking of moments that are worth keeping. The question was: If you could condense Christmas into one hour, what would be in that hour? In thinking about this question I remembered past Christmases, and these moments are tops on my list.

Never to be forgotten is the year Santa Claus brought me a Barbie Dream House. The Dream House was made of cardboard that had to be punched out, folded, tucked, bent and assembled. The end product would be dull by today’s standards, but seeing the Dream House for the first time took my breath away. I could have lived there happily for a hundred years.

I would also have to include eating my Aunt Ellie’s boiled custard and coconut cake. She would hover over me while I was eating and wipe her hands on her apron and declare, “You must have really been hungry for your Aunt Ellie’s cooking.”

The first year that I taught school, one of my students brought me a package wrapped in Kleenex. Inside was a pink plastic container filled with dusting powder. It made me remember that my grandmother always put on dusting powder after finishing her bath.

It seemed like such a perfect gift that it still brings tears to my eyes. I would have never thought that a favorite gift could be in a pink plastic container full of over-perfumed dusting powder.

Another favorite Christmas moment was the year my son Sam was three years old and Santa Claus brought him a complete cowboy outfit, including a holster and two shiny silver guns. Sam screamed, “Santa is my kind of guy!”

My favorite hour of last Christmas happened on Christmas Eve. I took my children bowling. We bowled and then ended up playing darts, drinking Cokes, and eating pretzels. No one was hurried, or checking text messages, or wishing for more — we were just trying to win at darts. It was hard to believe that Christmas could be that simple.

Condensing Christmas down to one hour has left me knowing some things for sure: I would not include cleaning house or “falling apart” when the clear tape is gone.

There would be no time to get stuck in traffic or hunt for a parking place at the mall. My hour would not include looking for a present for someone that I barely know, or worrying over when I will have time to bake cookies for neighbors. There would just be just 60 minutes and no time to waste on something that was not precious, or delicious, or worth keeping. 

Posted on: 12/14/2006