Christmas Shopping, 1963

When I first hopped into our car I couldn't believe how cold it was outside. It felt like forever until it warmed up. Dad referred to the ignition key as the "switch key", and by the time he turned it, and the car rumbled to life, the heater was the most popular instrument on the dashboard. Mom turned the radio knob on and tuned past a few stations while static interruptions and musical fragments sliced the air with each turn. Clearly, and with perfect reception, Andy Williams sang "Do You Hear What I Hear?" To this very day that song pierces the heart of my Christmas carol memories, and it was followed by other wonderful Christmas songs while we drove to the department store.

It had been raining out, and I recall the blackness, and the deep blues of night complimented by neon signs and store lights. Bright and vivid colors behind raindrop streaks on the windows turned the back window of the car into a marvelous kaleidoscope of Christmas color. The stores and the streets were decorated to the hilt as were outdoor light poles of parking lots. Christmas lights lined buildings and stores as we pulled into the shopping mall. There was Christmas excitement in the air, a sense of joy and wonder and happiness everywhere.

I had one desperate wish list toy: The Mattel Tommyburst machine gun. It haunted my dreams and invaded nearly all of my waking thoughts. In my mind I smelled the plastic of the stock, and imagined the rat-a-tat-tat-tat sound it made when pulling the bolt back and firing away. I even felt its trim weight as it was slung over my shoulder while I hopped over winter puddles and ducked behind bushes.

I could never be sure what Mom and Dad were shopping for that evening; more than likely they'd already had the secret shopping, and I had separated to shop for my brothers. As we all split up, I secretly hoped mom and dad were buying that Tommyburst Machine Gun for me.