I Was Thinking About…A Very Gen X Christmas
By Andy Lee
The first chords of Bobby Helms’ “Jingle Bell Rock” instantly zaps me back to childhood Christmases. In my mind’s eye, the kitschy plastic knickknacks emerge from storage as the scent of fresh pine wafts in anticipation. Soon, garlands will drape each doorway as the decorating tradition continues. We Gen X kids bear sacred duties this day.
You see, in our small 1970s Oklahoma world, the holiday season meant time-honored rituals enacted just so each December. By unspoken cultural osmosis, we absorbed this was simply how proper families welcomed the most magical weeks. Chilly mornings selecting the perfect Christmas tree…Tuning the radio to Casey Kasem’s annual countdown…Crafting clumsy salt dough ornaments to proudly hang by twine.
Today such earnest preparations look charmingly archaic, like scenes from a snow globe. Yet opening those nostalgic boxes still transports me instantly back to childhood. When the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve unfolded according to well-scripted custom.
We children sensed it as the crescendo towards long-awaited miracles. Each ornament, blinking bulb, and “Last Christmas” chorus advanced the climactic countdown we tracked with paper chains. Of course, nothing truly compared to that fateful school dismissal signaling vacation’s start and festivities in earnest. Time moved differently then, when each tradition shone novel and new through young eyes.
Before cynicism or distraction eroded attention spans, enjoyment came simply. I’d watch hours enraptured by Bob Ross’ winter landscapes or pore over Sears toy catalog pages with friends. At night, we drove sleepy neighborhoods gaping at Christmas light opulence that proved holiday magic to impressionable minds.
When finally Christmas Eve arrived, excitement reached fever pitch after the long day’s wait marking just one more sleep until morning. We opened new pajamas, keeping eager eyes peeled for Santa’s sleigh against starry skies. Fitfully falling asleep took eternal patience until sunlight revealed joy under the tree – he came!
Through this passage awakening anticipation, I sensed early on Christmas meant more than wrapped gifts. Riding in the car hearing Elvis dream of a Hawaiian holiday conjured imagined worlds far beyond Oklahoma. The Christmas tree centerspread in Family Circle awakened reveries before we picked our own.
Each recipe, nostalgic carol and TV special slowly stirred the sublime childhood alchemy I chased with my son when he was little. Because nothing is more magical than seeing his eyes glow relishing our thanks and togetherness. When he someday hears “Feliz Navidad,” perhaps he’ll tap faint echoes of that wonder once felt most purely as a child at Christmas.
We Gen Xers held special access as the last pre-digital generation enjoying quainter traditions less darkened by hyper-materialism’s shadows. Today’s kids scarcely recognize Rankin/Bass characters or use Advent calendars. Yet December’s rituals still nurture Christmas expectation if we take time to set the stage.
As I untangle lights each year, I give thanks for those whose paths converged in my warmest childhood memories. Through simple traditions, they opened eyes to beauty beyond gifts. Each cookie cutter pressed connected me to generations stringing popcorn before aluminum tinsel existed. That precious continuity still grounds me amidst ever-changing holiday hullabaloo.
Maybe when millennials have children, they’ll grasp their own era’s hallmarks worth sharing to bind Christmases together. While cider and Mariah Carey set the mood, what resonates longest is handing down rituals joining past to present. So I hope when Gen Z kids scribble Santa wish lists, they’ll too find familiar refrains awakening nostalgia for that ephemeral childhood magic.
For today, I pondered quainter elements kindling nostalgia for 1970s and 80s Christmases through soft remembrance of early wonder. What retro recipe, song or decoration fills your heart with chills of nostalgia, reminding us to carry these fragile traditions forward before they fade like snow?
As another holiday season comes, I wish you moments of nostalgia conjuring Christmases when time itself moved slower and magic felt so wondrously near.🎄
I was thinking about... 