It’s Christmas Time!
“It’s Christmas time all over the world. It’s Christmas here at home.”
Sammy Davis Jr. memorably belted that out decades ago in a marvelous musical ditty about what fellow great singer Andy Williams called “the most wonderful time of the year.”
If Christmas doesn’t bring out the best in us — the smiles in us — the hopefulness in us — then what possibly can? Christmas is, after all, about hope and miracles. And we need both, especially in this time when so many things seem to be going, well, wrong. 
And you know what I mean.
But Christmas is that one time when perhaps — just perhaps — we can put aside our daily woes for a short time.
Bill Murray said it best, in his quite-good 1988 movie, “Scrooged.” As he put it, it’s “the one time of the year when we all act a little nicer; we smile a little easier; we cheer a little more. We are the people that we always hoped we could be.”
Nice, huh? Feel free to pass that on.
Christmas has always been my favorite time of year, even though the Harts of Fresno never had much money. Heck, we didn’t even get a Christmas tree until the year I brought one home on the last day of kindergarten at Fremont Elementary. It had been our class tree.
No money — but, oh, what memories! Mom always got up incredibly early on Christmas morning to start prepping the Christmas Day meal we would share with my parents’ moms and with my Uncle Jerry. Of course, I’d get up ridiculously early to see what Santa had brought.
As I say, we did not have much money, and the only thing I seem to recall getting one Christmas is a wind-up Lionel train. But I have wonderful images of those Christmas Day meals in our living room (with the leaf placed in the table to accommodate our family guests).
It was one of the few times during the year both grandmas came over. They both spoke English, but were more comfortable speaking their native German. Uncle Jerry spoke English. And my parents — who both were fluent in English — could speak German, but rarely did.
I hope I never forget those days, or the people who made them special. My family.
Christmastime in Fresno was magical to this highly impressionable youngster. All the great department stores on Fulton Street – Gottschalks, Penneys, Wards, Roos/Atkins, Woolworth’s – put up grand and glorious Christmas displays in their windows. And lights – oh, the holiday lights! On Fulton Street, they were in lavish wreaths that were always strung above downtown intersections. In my Fresno High neighborhood, lots of homes had outdoor lights hanging in bushes and trees and along roof lines.
And then there was Christmas Tree Lane. Oh, my. Hundreds of thousands of lights were strung in pine trees that covered both sides of Van Ness Boulevard in north Fresno. Each night before Christmas, carload after carload of people drove slowly by, seeing the bright lights of the season. It was magical – and it still is, if you want to go.
And walking in my Fresno High neighborhood on those clear, frosty nights was incredible. Lighted Christmas trees glowed brightly through the windows of so many homes, and the smell – that indescribable smell! – of fireplace smoke wafted from so many chimneys. Those were the true days and nights of Christmas spirit, and I’ve never gotten over them, thank goodness.
Let’s not forget those classic Christmas specials on TV in those years, hosted by giant stars who could never be replaced. Crosby. Hope. Andy Williams. Como. Dean Martin. And the holiday tunes they sang. “White Christmas.” “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” “The Christmas Song.” Of course, there were those never-to-be-forgotten Christmas movies. “It’s a Wonderful Life.” “Miracle on 34th Street.” “The Bishop’s Wife.” Remembering all that brings a tear to my aging eyes, to this day.
I started putting up Christmas lights around our family home on Arthur Avenue when I was 10 or 11. I think I got my first string of GE lights for about $2 — maybe even less — at our neighborhood five-and-dime on McKinley near Fruit. I was so proud of those lights. I hung them on a giant bush outside our front door and hooked them up to one of our porch lights so I could turn them on from inside.
And right around Christmas that first year — some idiots came along, unscrewed some of those lights, and broke them on our front walkway. I was crushed, but undaunted. The next year, I got another set of lights, and instead of putting them at ground level, I hung them from our roof.
And since then, I’ve put up lights everywhere we’ve lived at Christmas — everywhere – and that’s a whole lot of places. How many, you ask? Well, after Fresno came Ames, Iowa; Phoenix; Buffalo; Detroit; Atlanta; San Francisco; Los Angeles; and, of course, Paso Robles. That’s a lot of homes and a lot of lights, and I loved all of it.
Sharon and I — and later, with the kids — spent Christmases in 70-degree temperatures (Phoenix) and in way-below freezing, snowy places (Buffalo and Ames). We’ve also spent unforgettable Christmas days in London and in Washington, D.C., but my outdoor lights were not needed there. Yes, we’ve had plenty of Christmas experiences, but I don’t think you ever get over the ones you spent in your hometown when you were growing up. At least, I haven’t.
So here we are, Christmas 2021. Man and boy, I’m so lucky to have experienced about 70 of them, and so grateful to still be around to experience another one. The spirit of the season still warms my heart, and I still love seeing all those trees and lights and hearing the usual holiday songs. Maybe that keeps my heart young, as well as warm.
Here’s hoping we all have more – oh, so many more! – Christmases to come. Wherever you’re spending your holiday, good friends – I wish you nothing but the very merriest and happiest. And here are special holiday wishes to the co-proprietor of this website, Mr. Elliott, and his lovely wife Peggy. You are special people, indeed.