Old New Years and New Years to Come

I have always loved New Year’s Eve.  I love the thought of a clean slate, of starting a new chapter of a life, of looking back with reminiscence and looking forward with hope.

My earliest memories of New Year's were waking up on New Year's Day and seeing paper hats, tiaras and noisemakers on the kitchen table.  My parents would have gone to a party and brought these home for us kids to celebrate with...AFTER they woke up, of course.  I remember my big thing as a kid – actually, a pre-teen – was listening to the Top 100 Songs of the Year, played one-by-one.  Sometimes I would keep track and actually write them out in a list, but usually I would just listen.  I DID keep track of #1s…I wrote them in my diary.  Anyway, I would have my little transistor radio in-hand all day, listening to the countdown.  I still look forward to various annual music countdowns; tonight we'll be watching the countdown of the Top Country Music Videos.  The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Some years I would watch the Ball drop in New York on “Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve”; some years I would listen to the New Year come in on the radio.  I always looked forward to that final “3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!”

The change of decades would be fun, sometimes, too.

I never really went out for a big New Year’s Eve party.  As a kid, teen, and young adult I usually stayed home.  I remember the year I was 17 my mother gave me a single-serving bottle of Andre’s Pink Champagne to share with my then-boyfriend.  I remember making him a “fancy” dinner (Chicken Au Gratin, frozen), then having the radio on, and toasting in the New Year with him.  I thought it was a Big Deal at the time. 

After I got married we still didn’t go out, but preferred to remain at home.  We would watch movies, or listen to music, but we always made it special and romantic.  There were two years when friends of ours would have a small party at their home; those were the only years we went out.  Some years my husband would have to work; he would call me at midnight so that we could still see the New Year in together.

Now we have the girls, and they LOVE staying up ‘til midnight for the New Year!  They take a nap in the afternoon before: the only time – other than to watch a NASCAR night race – that they will willingly and voluntarily nap.  After dinner the home turns into a big pajama party.  We all wash up and get into jammies, make some popcorn and watch a movie or two, play some games, and just have a good time.  Right before Midnight we pour the Toast:  non-alcoholic sparkling white grape for the adults (the girls don’t like “fizz”, but our older one is willing to go for it this year) and white grape juice for the girls.  We watch the ball drop, make a toast, say a prayer for the coming year, and talk about either something we loved from the year just past or something we’re looking forward to in the New Year.  Then we go around and change the calendars, officially setting the New Year.

Maybe some year, when the girls are older, we may go out.  However, even if we never do, I like my New Year's as they are.

Oh, one thing that we DON'T do is New Year's Resolutions.

Happy New Year, everyone!  May God bless you and yours, and may 2012 be filled with love, light, health and beauty.

My Christmas Poem

The following poem is an old one, one that I have been posting almost every year since I wrote it.  However, this is MY blog, so I can post it again if I want to!  :)  I've written other Christmas poems, but this one is my favorite.

The story behind the writing of this poem is interesting and timely.

It was 1983: the year of the dreaded Cabbage Patch Dolls.  As I mentioned in an earlier blog, it was not a good time.  Working in a department store was not the best place to be that particular Christmas.  I was really seeing almost the very worst of humanity.  The Christmas Spirit seemed to have flown away.  The season was definitely spoiled for me.

One particular day I was working, and they needed me on a register because of the crowds.  In the line was a woman with her young son...maybe about 4 or 5 years old.  He was being a little terror.  He was running around, swinging on the dividers between the registers, whining about wanting this or that, yelling...you get the idea.  Finally, the mother turned to him and said, in an overly-sweet, overly reasoning tone, "If you don't behave, Santa won't bring you anything for Christmas."

The little boy looked up at his mother, put his hands on his hips, and said, "I don't care; I know I'm getting stuff from Grandma and Grandpa anyway!"

That evening I went home and wrote this poem.

(It just occurred to me that the little boy would be about 33 years old now; I wonder how he turned out?)

Anyway, here it is...Merry Christmas!

Christmas Anxiety

"What does Christmas mean to you?"
I asked the little child
I waited as I looked at him
My mind was running wild
-

I knew that most kids thought about
Santa for one thing
And all the toys and goodies
And other things he's bring
-

Toys and gifts and candy
Snowballs by the score
School vacations, Christmas trees
A wreath on every door
-

Lots of visiting relatives
Dressed in Sunday best
Kissing aunts and cousins
Uncomfortable at best
-

I anticipated this
Until I heard him say
"The little Baby Jesus
Was born on Christmas Day"
-

I hugged the child closely
My eyes were filled with tears
For Christmas is remembered
Even after all these years

(c) "Amalthea Celebras"  K.C. Fahel  12 December 1983

Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the dreaded Black Friday

To me, the Holidays (and I always spell it with a capital “H”) have always been not only about their “definition” meanings (Thanksgiving = giving thanks, etc.) but also about family, friends, fellowship…and sometimes food.  I usually think of things like, “It’ll be so good to see so-and-so again,” or something along those lines.  I think of the people who make the Holidays special.  I think back to Holidays of my childhood and my feelings there.

What doesn’t usually come to my mind are things like, “Oh, I’ve GOT to run to the store to get this almost-impossible-to-get-but-gotta-have item for so-and so!  They’ll be so impressed!” or “I’ve got to get there early so I can be the first one there!”

I think y’all can see where I’m going with this:  the dreaded BLACK FRIDAY!!!

I don’t remember, as a child, really being exposed to that kind of pre-Christmas behavior.  I DO remember stores being a lot more filled, carriages being a lot more filled, and cashier lines being a little longer, but that was about it.

The first time I remember really facing the hell that is Black Friday was 1983; the first year I worked in retail.  It was also the year that those monstrosities – Cabbage Patch Dolls – hit the major market.  They had been available before, but special order (and I believe you had to go to a special place…I don’t remember, and I don’t really care enough to research it).  However, in 1983, they hit retail, with a fury and a vengeance that was unbelievable.  I had a front-row seat to otherwise grown, sane people becoming like wild animals, quite literally fighting each other for the ugly little beasts.  There were days when a group of us were asked to come in extra-early – about 3 AM – to put shelves back up where they were torn down, pick up items that were liberally tossed onto the floor, and try to make the toy department look like a toy department and not a war zone.  I did this even though I actually worked in the automotive department; they needed that many people.

Another Black Friday I remember was a beautiful, balmy one, around 1990-ish.  My husband and I went to a toy store to just get ideas of what we wanted to get the children in our lives.  We didn’t actually purchase anything, and weren’t too upset by the rude and pushy people that were running roughshod through the aisles.  However, when we stepped out of the store and walked to the car, we saw that someone had taken some black spray paint and just went right along a row of cars that had been parked nose-to-tail and sprayed all down the sides, and this included our beautiful teal 1977 Firebird.

What is it about Black Friday that brings out the absolute worst in people?  I’m reluctant to go anywhere on this day any more, going so far as to be sure that no groceries or other important items will run short that particular day.  The last bunch of years I’ve used this day to do Christmas decorating and attempting to get into the Christmas spirit…at least until I hear on the news about the latest Black Friday atrocities which have included stabbing, shootings, pepper-sprayings and even, this past year, at least two warnings of explosive items.

To make matters worse, Black Friday has started creeping into Thanksgiving Thursday!  It used to be that the stores would open at the usual time, then it would open a few hours earlier, then we had Midnight Specials…now the insanity is encouraged as early as 10:00pm Thursday, when most people should still be digesting their wonderful meal and sharing memories – and making new ones – with families and loved-ones.

I have a kind of schedule I like to keep around these Holidays.  It begins with a wonderful Thanksgiving Eve service, which is almost always uplifting and filled with love and gratitude.  Thanksgiving Day the attitude of gratitude carries on as, before eating a nice, large meal, we share what we are thankful for.  The past meets the future as I watch the Macy’s Parade with the girls.  As previously mentioned, the next day is reserved for setting the home – and our hearts – for the Birthday of our Savior (and I know that historians point out that his actual Birthday is in the spring, so let’s just leave that alone).  The following month is usually spent loving our neighbors, friends and families, church events, and music, culminating in Christmas morning, when we sing “Happy Birthday” to the figure of Baby Jesus as he gets put in the manger of our Nativity Scene, and exchanging gifts, representing…well…birthday gifts.

I’m not saying that I absolutely don’t think of shopping.  We try to get the girls and the other children in our lives gifts that are fun and that they will enjoy, but it’s not with an attitude of trying to impress.  Thankfully, my whole family is pretty much like that as well.  I'm also not saying that I don't occasionally fall prey to the stress of "can we afford this'n'that" or "is there time?"  I can stress as well as the next person.

So, please, in the spirit of the Holidays, just keep in mind the phrase, “Peace on earth, good will to men”…and let’s try to win Thanksgiving back.