Christmas in Revue

For me, Christmas time has sometimes been the best of times and the worst of times.

When I was three, my family stayed in a home outside of Lake Isabella. It was cold! I remember the huge canvases of snow all over, but the rest of that year remains a blank.

The best Christmas time was in 1985, when my parents and my sister and me went to San Pedro, where another couple, close friends of my Mom and Dad, had invited us to celebrate the holiday season. Their apartment overlooked the entire San Pedro Bay. They had a white cat named “Snooks” who left a lot of her white fur all over. If the fuzzy furball leaped onto the white couch, the masters of the house would shoot their water pistol at the cat until she jumped away. That was the last “white Christmas” I ever had.

I remember that Christmas year because it was the one time that I had met Santa Claus, or at least I saw him from very far away. While everyone was sitting around the television watching some holiday special, my Dad walked out to the balcony, where he cried out and told all of us: “Hey, there’s Santa Claus!”

My sister and I ran out to the balcony, and when we looked up into the dark sky, we both saw tiny red and green lights flying overhead. I still remember how excited I got when I saw the lights attached in neat rows, like a sleigh on its way throughout the world. When my sister and I came back in the house, there was a white bicycle and a red toy jeep waiting for us. Santa was so quick, he had left two big presents for us just as he was coasting over the Harbor area.

One of the highlights of teaching was the three weeks of Christmas break, preceded by a week of easy assignments, movies, and Christmas parties. The faculty parties were pretty boring, with teachers complaining about their students and most of them talking about their holiday plans. One teacher gave me crystal drinking glasses: very classy.

In 2006, I spirited my own Christmas tree into my classroom about two weeks before the Christmas break. The students helped me decorate. They even donated their own ornaments. On the Friday before Winter Break, the students brought food and we feted for the day. Three of the girls sang Christmas carols for the rest of us. My advanced students went caroling all over the school, singing Christmas carols in French. Christmas Day, I went to mass at the Cathedral of our Lady of the Angels, where Cardinal Roger Mahony himself gave me the Eucharist, then I went riding the Metro all over LA. It was free, so it was for me.

In 2003, for my belated birthday, the family went to the Pantages Theatre to see “The Producers”, with Martin Short and Jason Alexander playing the lead roles. One remark brought the house down, when Alexander ad libbed: “Why do they torture the Jews on Christmas?” Oy Vey! Festivus for the rest of us, perhaps?

A few years later, I ate out at Canters Deli, where no one feels tortured or even out of place. Not Chinese food, perhaps, but just as good.

The family drifted apart a little bit after that year. In 2007, I took a long walk throughout San Pedro. Next year, I went to the Reagan Library. The year after that, I was cutting up with people I barely knew.

Today, I celebrate Christmas with family once again.