Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Wednesday is "A Christmas Story" Day.

Hey y'all.

I'm still in the middle of studying. I know I sound like a broken record. But only a week and half left! Woot!

So today, my pal b.e.g. is educating you this Wednesday! She is one of my blogger bffs. She has been teaching me the ways of living above the Mason-Dixon Line cider donuts and all!

Anyway, hope y'all enjoy.


1983 was a magical year. Not only did it bring yours truly to the world, but the story of a little boy named Ralphie with dreams of a Red Rider BB Gun was brought to fruition: A Christmas Story. This is by far, THE only Christmas movie for me.

For some reason, when I watch A Christmas Story, it evokes a lot of strong imagery. I adore the sense of family in Ralphie’s life. From his nonverbal little brother, anxious and overbearing mother, and proud father, they stuck together for better or worse. When I see the scene where Ralphie’s mother is at her wit’s end trying to get Randy to eat and encourages him to ‘show me how piggies eat’, I recall a scene from my own childhood. We had ice cream cakes for someone’s birthday, and my parents must have been in a silly mood (they are the ‘no elbows on the table’, ‘no eating until everyone grace is said’, ‘push your chair under the table, but you’re not allowed to leave the table before everyone is done’ kind of folk) because my sister and I had an ice cream cake eating contest. Full-out, face-in-the-plate licking and snorting and going at it. I remember the four of us laughing hysterically, my mother snapping pictures, my sister’s pigtailed, baby-faced self smiling with ice cream on her nose, and it comforts me.

I love this scene:
Ralphie: Oooh fuuudge!
Ralphie as Adult: [narrating] Only I didn't say "Fudge." I said THE word, the big one, the queen-mother of dirty words, the "F-dash-dash-dash" word!
Mr. Parker: [stunned] *What* did you say?
Ralphie: Uh, um...
Mr. Parker: That's... what I thought you said. Get in the car. Go on!
Ralphie as Adult: [narrating] It was all over - I was dead. What would it be? The guillotine? Hanging? The chair? The rack? The Chinese water torture? Hmmph. Mere child's play compared to what surely awaited me.

Because it reminds me of the time when I was mouthing off to my mother; I was approximately ten years old, I was sassy, and I was fresh, and I only showed that to my mother. My mother’s frustration tolerance for the crap I put her through only decreased over the years, and by ten years of age, she was pretty low tolerance. So she heard me mouth off to her, became infuriated, and tried to put a bar of soap in my mouth. I refused to open my mouth. It was a battle of wits. My mother thought she could outsmart me, and pulled the liquid soap and tried to put the white dispenser end to my mouth and squirt soap in my mouth. In the end, I didn’t get much soap in my mouth, my mother punished me, and I apologized to her. It reminds me of the Ohmigodthisisnotgoingtoendwell feeling of childhood, but in retrospect, it’s hilarious!

I love the father’s deep intense pride and desire to make things seem bigger, better, and more incredible than they really are. He believes in magic, he believes that things will turn out alright, even if the Big Win is only a stocking’ed, sexy woman’s leg of a lamp!

I love the way the mother bundles Ralphie and Randy before they go outside. It reminds me of being taken care of. I love that they live in a working-class neighborhood, have silly friends who attempt really, really, really stupid Triple Dog Dares, have family members who make/buy silly costumes, Mamas who dote and love on their children, and the magic of being a child. Ralphie cracking his code, wearing his costume, encountering bullies, dreaming of being a top student, and having a family that embarrasses him, yet a family that he loves just warms my little heart. Because isn’t family what the Christmas season is all about?

Happy Christmas!

1 comment:

Lil' Woman said...


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Hi y'all! The name's Samantha. You can call me Sam if you like. I am a lover to a boy I met at Falls Creek in the summer of 2005, that is a student of Jesus, a Sooner born and Sooner bred and when I die I'll be Sooner dead, Democrat by party, blonde to the core, and oldies but goodies kind of girl.
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