A Brand New Car!!

A Brand New Car!!

I'm taking off from blogging for CHristmas, so I will post some CHristmas re-runs instead.  Regardless of my "Humbug" post, I do love Christmas.  

Merry Christmas to all! 

It is Christmas Time, I know by all the commercials I see of Brand New Cars in the driveway with giant ribbons on them; presents for the dutiful wife.

Oh, she is so surprised, so happy.  All the neighbor wives are jealous and all the neighbor husbands will be sleeping on the couch.  What a great generous present.

Really?

Mrs. C just watched this year’s first Brand New Car commercial and informed me that if I ever surprised her with a Brand New Car with a ribbon out in the driveway she would, in the words of my Grandma Gus “Crown Me.”  Why?

“First of all, if we need and can afford a Brand New Car, I want to be part of picking it out, the make, style, color and accessories…NOT YOU!

Secondly, the Brand New Car (or brand new used car) Christmas present is the grown-up version of socks.  You’re going to need them anyway, might as well make it Christmas present."

Think about it, the Brand New Car Christmas present is only for people that are so rich that it is no big deal, or for people that absolutely need a Brand New Car and go into hock for it.  Might as well throw a ribbon on it and call it a present.  Most women I know would think you are a cheapskate who simply dodged getting an actual Christmas present for their wife.

All of this brings me to a famous family story which is told in one of my books that you will never read and in fact I discourage anyone from reading. 

“The Christmas MG.”

It was 1955.  My father always drooled over the classic MG TF sports car.  However, with three children not yet in high school the classic MG TF sports car would be completely impractical, and the expense as a second car was out of the question.  Still a man can dream, and my pop clearly dreamed of motoring to work in a top down classic MG TF sports car.

On Christmas that year, any presents for my dad were hidden away.  He watched contentedly as his wife and three boys joyfully tore through their presents.  When all was done he asked,

“Isn’t there a present for your dear old dad?”

“Oh, yes there is, we saved it for last.  It is in the garage.”

Dad grew noticeably excited and you could see running through his head,

“Is it possible?  But we can’t afford this.  I mean I want it, but it is not practical and how will we pay for it?  Maybe they’ve been saving their allowance and grocery money for a few years.”

So, dad went to the garage still too stunned to think logically and he had the belief that just maybe, somehow, there would be a Brand New MG TF sports car in the garage.

And there was. 

In the middle of the empty garage was an 8-inch model of the very MG TF classic sports car my father so coveted.  My brother yelled out,

“Oh no, it shrunk!  I knew we should have had it Sandforized (giyp)!”

Oh yes, we all had a good laugh at dear old dad’s expense, and he took it well.  He smiled, claimed “You almost got me” and then went back inside to open his real presents which were hidden in a closet.

Yes, he took it well, but he never again got the same gleam in his eye when he saw an MG TF sports car.  It was a great gag, but he not only lost a car, he lost a dream. 

I don't know what happened to the toy model...I never saw it again.

Sorry Dad…it was Jim and Chris’ idea.

Years later when I turned 18, I spent $200 and dad threw in another $600 so I could own a used 1958 MGA sports car.  I think dad lived part of his dream through that car.

My Dad and a young Cranky

Merry Christmas!

Facebook Diss

Facebook Diss

The other day I made a comment on Facebook to Charley, a longtime friend from high school.   One of his Facebook friends responded to me.

Brenda Olson: Joe Hagy “Your name is familiar; do I know you from Civics class at Edison?”

Now, Edison was my Junior High school.  I attended in ninth grade.  I must say I was a bit miffed that this person would only remember me from Civics class in ninth grade.  I mean I was not your big man on campus, but in high school I got around a little bit.  I was even co-captain of the football team; why would this person remember me from civics class in ninth grade?

Of course, I checked her out on Facebook and dang she is still pretty cute.  Why didn’t I remember her from high school?

So I responded perhaps a bit snarky,

“I was class of ’64 at Westfield High and did go to Edison so we may have been in the same class.”

I was still a bit miffed to be remembered for attending civics class in ninth grade and nothing else.  I was about to search her out in the yearbook to see what kind of a big shot she was, when she responded to me;

“Well it must be, I taught Civics at Edison from ’59 to ’62.  I was about ten year older than most of my students.”

Holy crap, Brenda Olson was a teacher!  Now I was feeling pretty proud that a teacher would remember my name from 58 years ago.  I must have made quite an impression on her.

Thinking further on this, I wondered why was this teacher a Facebook friend with my old longtime friend. 

Hmmm…wait a minute, Charley lived in a garden apartment and I remember his next-door neighbor was one of our teachers; I think it was Civics.  They were Facebook friends as old neighbors.  She would remember me because I was at Charley’s several times a week all through High School and summers during college.  She would have seen me a lot.  If not for that connection I doubt she would have recognized my name from Adam.

In about ten minutes, I went from being miffed at only being recognized from an obscure time in ninth grade, to thinking I must have been a special student to be remembered by a teacher, to realizing it was not my prowess as a student that she remembered, just that she saw me a lot at Charley’s.

Oh well, emotions are a funny thing.

I kind of remember that in ninth grade my civics teacher was an older lady; 58 years later I checked her on Facebook, and she looks pretty cute!

HUMBUG

HUMBUG

I’m sorry, but I hate Christmas.  I used to love Christmas.  Decorations, a tree, Santa, Christmas music, presents, happy children, smiles from everyone…I used to love Christmas.  Now; not so much.

I hate putting up decorations and then taking them down, but I do enjoy other people’s decorations.

We basically put up no decorations or tree, there are no children around here on Christmas, so it just seems a waste.

Christmas music is not really Christmas music anymore.  Apparently anything that smells of the real meaning of Christmas is offensive to some people, so the media is full of “Mommy Kissing Santa” “Grandma Run Down by a Reindeer” “Dominic the Christmas Donkey” and Friggin “Rudolph”! There are no good old classic  Christmas carols; mustn’t offend anyone.     

I hate giving and getting presents.

I have no idea what my grandchildren want, I think they pretty much have whatever they need and more than enough stuff that they don’t need.  My children seem to be doing fine and I have no idea what they might want or need.  So, I send checks.  Not much, just to say Merry Christmas.  It is not the same thrill that Christmas used to be when children got all excited over everything from a new bike to handkerchiefs from Aunt Edna.

Mrs. C told me what she wanted, even sent a link to Amazon.  Well that will make a great surprise, but I went to the link anyway.  It was Amazon.com.

I picked the item and it needed my sign-in and password.  It did not like my password even though it was my password.  I got a new one-time-only PW from Amazon and proceeded to buy my item which now somehow was up to three items in the cart.  Pretty sure Mrs. C only wants one.  ARRRRGGGHHH!  It took me 15 minutes to figure out how to make the cart zero items and just signed out.

I give up.  I told Mrs. C to order it herself as she knows how to do it and now, I have to figure something else for her.  I hate Christmas!

I even hate getting presents.  There is nothing I want that anyone getting me a present could afford.  So, I want nothing.  A cigar, golf balls and another tee-shirt that says I’m cranky or grumpy or stupid and I’m fine.

So, I’m sorry, I know Christmas is a wonderful time of the year, but I just can’t get in the spirit.  Mrs. C just spent $250 on sending cards.  I only know a few of these people and Mrs. C hasn’t seen any of them in years.  I know most of these people will look at them and say, “That’s nice” and then toss the card!

I’m glad Jesus was born.  It is great to remember his birth and all he brings to the lives of Christians.  I am just done with the required Christmas celebration.

OK, I like the food and I like seeing family but otherwise…Bah Humbug.

Now I’m afraid to go to sleep and meet all those ghosts.