A Few of My Favorite Things
by Eva Pasco
Author of "Underlying Notes"
Rodgers&Hammerstein's timeless lyrics of brown paper packages tied up with strings prompted a
seasonal memory jog to dredge up a few
of my favorite things. Mind you, as
1960 rolled down the living room carpet where our Christmas tree stood in front of the picture
window, I was a 9 year old--one of those girls in white
dresses with blue satin
sashes. This disclosure alone should
prove illuminating as any jaunty gold star placed on the pinnacle of a
tree.
One of my favorite things to pull out of my stocking Mother hung with care on the arm of
a musical rocking chair was a mesh pouch filled with chocolate gold coins. Each coin individually wrapped inside embossed gold foil simulated
genuine legal tender. Though I had a sweet tooth, I hated seeing my pile of coins
dwindle.
The cement floor of our basement would bear the track marks of my
ball bearing roller
skates which initially fit snuggly inside a fancily
wrapped gift box, inviting curiosity. Essentially flat metal soles with side clamps adjusted with a
key, these skates definitely had their limitations. As if keeping one's balance wasn't challenging
enough, you had to make sure your shoes were good and sturdy for those clamps to grip before
you peeled out on wheels. Despite my share of spills, I'd gotten the hang of it by the time
spring came around for me to venture onto the driveway.
Barbara Millicent Roberts
aka Barbie, moved in with a full suitcase of
clothes one Christmas, making her less than formal debut in a black and white zebra swimsuit, and
sporting her signature topknot ponytail. The first adult doll celebrates a
birthday coinciding with her manufacture by Matell, Inc. on March 9, 1959. Baby
Boomer Barb caused quite a controversy.
Criticism brewed simply because she was quite a "doll": ample bosom, demure sidelong glance,
unrealistic body image, shallow preoccupation with clothing and gadgetry...Whoo Hoo! As far as I'm
concerned this cultural icon was a keeper on a par with Marilyn Monroe swiveling her hips
and pursing her lips to convey "diamonds are a girl's best friend."
Nothing like spotting a brand new beribboned steel runner snow
sled propped against a wall. I coveted the smooth
feel of its varnished deck and steering bar. Our yard had the perfect embankment to whoosh down
headfirst without any mighty oaks in the way to crash against.
I cannot overlook the "cool" transistor radio secured in its tan leather carrying case with a strap. I never
used the earplug jacks that came with it. No biggie that A M bandwidth produced a tinny
quality with residual fading in and out. I'd sit on my swing listening to rock
'n roll on WICE or WPRO. I could recite the top 100 hits of the week and won several 45 rpm
records by calling in from a rotary dial phone when the DJ announced "Spin It and Win
It."
Christmas 'tis the season
that opens a floodgate of cherished memories and visions of sugarplums. Chestnuts roasting by an open fire
with Jack Frost nipping at our door seem to take precedence over the less favorable
dog bites and bee
stings, disappointments, resentments, and setbacks of yore. Simply remembering a few of our
favorite things down Memory
Lane is a trip worth taking.
|