Friday, December 10, 2010

Christmas Crapbook: 1982 edition

My third Christmas was when I really began to form lasting memories. And how could I not? My Drew Barrymore-esque flowing locks kept them snug and insulated in my brain.

This holiday season may have been where I began developing my twin obsessions with clocks and cars. If not, it certainly enabled it.

The festivities started three days before the big one, at the annual YMBC Christmas Party. Special guests at this year’s party were my cousins Amanda and Shawn from New Orleans. At the beginning, you can see the TV blaring the 1980 party video. YouTube was clunky back then.

(At 1:40, my grandfather tells Santa I’m a “hot shot.” I’d call that a spoiler alert, but you already knew that. We called him Pop, which explains the cheesy pun in the video.)

And now, we go to my great aunt's house (two houses down from mine) on Christmas Eve:

If this picture is to believed, Colin had been wearing that shirt for two days. I believe it, because I know him. I sure hope my diaper isn't that old. Why am I still wearing a diaper anyway?

I actually have a distinct memory of this moment: trying to decipher what "Selchow and Righter" meant. That was the company that manufactured Scrabble at the time. Always was a reader, I guess. The fact that the logo reminded me of an Atari game probably didn't hurt.

The grateful Scrabble recipient is my great-aunt Zula "Boo" Hamilton. To the right is Linda "Ninnin the Terminator" Hamilton, who seems justifiably concerned that the open-flame space heater is liable to combust on the carpet at any moment.

Moving over to my grandparents' house next door...

"We're just gonna stand here and look cool until we figure out what to get the boys."

"I don't care how cute you think it is, Mom. I'm not trading you my Mickey Mouse clock for the Estée Lauder."

While I stayed engrossed in my toy clock for what was no doubt hours, Colin got into Trouble. Get it? One or two years later, I would ask Santa for the same game, only I couldn't remember the name, so I called it "The big game with the little block." Somehow, I didn't get it.

This shot of my face would probably have been the most adorable baby face ever, if it hadn't been cut off (and even more so by my scanner). But as you can see, I've always been on the cutting edge.

"OK, Master Ian, if you place this toy in a tub of water and let it sit there for 25 years, this will become your actual car."

Talk about a crazy Cooter!

Next time: The Smurfy, gas-fueled Christmas of 1983!


Anonymous said...

Thanks for the memories.

Jenni said...

How cute! You've kept a lot of the facial expressions.