Live Oak — Well, it won’t be long now before Santa heads out on his annual flight to bring toys to all the good little girls and boys living in the Suwannee Valley, after which the jolly old elf will deliver the bills to Mom and Dad! Somehow, that part of the story usually gets lost in the telling. Now, don’t get me wrong. I love Christmas, up until about a week before it actually arrives. By then, the whole darn holiday shopping experience has left me exhausted with yet another seven days to endure and so “Oh Ho-Ho” starts giving way to, “Oh No-No!”

It wasn’t always that way. Of course when I was a little kid, back in the 1940s and 50s, the Christmas shopping season didn’t start in late August, as it seems to be the case today. It was truly confined to those 30-days or so that followed Thanksgiving. As for the day after,” it wasn’t known as “Black Friday” and it certainly wasn’t the shopping frenzy event it has become.

Still, the day after Thanksgiving was special in my household, for it meant my mother and I would take a trip to the “big city.” Now this was a time when most women were homemakers who didn’t drive. Thus the annual early morning journey began with a seemingly endless trek - usually in freezing temperatures - down country roads to the nearest highway where a Greyhound made regular runs. There we’d flag down the first diesel-belching bus headed into town. The ride took more than an hour, but I didn’t mind. I’d look out the windows, anxious to spot any and all roadside holiday decorations that might appear. And if they were not present, it was of no great concern, for I knew I was headed to the mecca of Christmas ornamentation; Main Street, USA! In those days, suburban “shopping centers” didn’t exist and the word “mall” had nothing to do with the world of retail. It was a time when the downtown department store, with names like J.L Hudson and Marshall Field, still dominated. In the past 60 years, many of them have completely disappeared and those that have survived are far different entities.

Back then, a department store visit was always a big event in my life, but going the day after Thanksgiving was a marvel. I LOVED the animated Christmas window displays, which would remain hidden by curtains until just moments before the store opened. I can still feel the cold on my nose as I pressed it against the display windows, so as to get a better look at the brightly colored, paper Mache’ replicas of Santa’s elves making toys or of a Lionel train chugging through a tiny, snow covered village!  

The trip would only get better after entering the store. Talk about attractions!  Beautiful decorations everywhere and then there were the elevators, operated by uniformed men, who at each floor recited the awaiting retail delights; “2nd Floor; Dishes, Women’s Fashions, Bedding.” Lord, how I envied them and hoped someday to “command” such a vehicle of my own. I could even hear my voice - filled with authority - politely demanding of my charges, “Step to the rear please.” Of course, there was only one floor I really cared about. Still, as my mother shopped for friends and relatives, I was good as gold. This was not the day to hear her utter, “Harold James Holmes!” After all, it might cost me a visit to the kid-coveted 3rd Floor, home of; “Children’s Wear, Toys… SANTALAND!

Mind you, my arrival at the gates of Santa’s department store castle didn’t “just happen”. There was always a two part, precursor ceremony. Part 1 consisted of a brief lecture from mama. “Don’t ask Santa for the moon Jimmy. A lot of kids want toys, and there’s only so much room in Kris Kringle’s sack.” It was only later that I figured out my mother was far more concerned about the amount of cash in my father’s beleaguered wallet than she was with what Santa could get in his bag.

Part 2 involved mama taking me, now excited beyond words, to the bathroom before boarding the elevator to Santaland. “Better safe than sorry,” was her mantra. I’m sure even today, Santas everywhere would bless any mother who demonstrated such concern for their collective laps!

Jim lives in Live Oak.