“Messy, messy, messy.”
Any time I hear the word “messy,” especially around the holidays, I think of another tradition my old man just loved: Watching the classic Christmas shows on TV. When my brother and I were young, that was one of the true treasures of the season.
As I’ve written, Dad didn’t have that much of a childhood, especially when he started getting into trouble before he was a teen. By the time the classics – “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” (1964), “A Charlie Brown Christmas” (1965), “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” (1966) and “Frosty the Snowman” (1969) – hit the airwaves, he was spending his days in a small jail cell.
When he was finally free and finally living a good life, he cherished moments with his boys. It usually didn’t matter what we were doing, as long as he was with us. On cold, winter nights around Christmastime, that meant huddling in front of our TV with Mom and watching the aforementioned shows as oak and walnut crackled a few feet away in our wood stove.
I was surprised how much he enjoyed watching those cartoons and animated shows. This was, after all, a man who had a set routine in the evenings. When he was finally done working early in the evening, he watched the news, followed by “Hill Street Blues,” “Magnum, P.I.,” “M*A*S*H,” “The Wonder Years” or “Sanford and Son.” Cartoons didn’t exactly fit the bill.
But on the nights when Frosty, Rudolph, the Grinch and Charlie Brown were on, he watched it with us as if he was our age. I will always remember his smile as he watched us watching those programs.
By the time were teens, of course, we’d moved on to more “modern” fare. Then, we were watching “Home Alone,” “Home Alone 2: Lost in New York” and “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.”
I’m fairly certain “Home Alone 2: Lost in New York” was his favorite. Not that it’s a great movie, but he really got a kick out Harry and Marv, the low-IQ goons who get out-smarted by 8/10-year-old Kevin McAllister. In particular, he enjoyed watching Marv take several bricks off his forehead during the climatic seen toward the end of the movie, a scene that caused his deep, hearty laugh to kick into overdrive.
He also laughed quite a bit during “Christmas Vacation,” even though he referred to Clark Griswold as an idiot a few times. I found that ironic because I saw a lot of Dad in Clark, notably overdoing it on the Christmas Light displays.
I’m fairly certain he referred to Clark as a moron once during the funniest scene in the movie, when he kicks and beats his Santa Claus and reindeer display. I never did tell the old man that I love that scene because it’s something he would have done.
A few weeks ago, as I watched “Frosty” and “Rudolph” with my 4-year-old granddaughter, I had a warm, full-of-happiness feeling flow through my body while she smiled and sang along. I assume it’s the same feeling my dad had watching his boys take in the Christmas classics more than 30 years ago.
