The Advent Calendar has been updated through December 13th. Slow and steady.
My secret hobby of thumbing through twenty-year-old recipe magazines has given me a serious appreciation of holiday fondue, which I suppose is no different than non-holiday fondue, but please let me have this. I was thrilled to find these microwaveable Swiss cheese fondue cups in the Christmas section of our local supermarket, sandwiched between wrapping paper and bags full of red and green jelly beans. Odd mix, but it seemed to work.
While the cups o’ cheese are theoretically ready-to-eat once they’re heated, the contents are really meant to be poured into a traditional fondue pot before serving, with any extra additives the chef might want to…add. It was wishful thinking to believe that the mixture would taste any good as-is, because it DOES NOT, and without the added wine and oils, I kinda felt like I was dipping bread cubes into someone’s sneeze.
On the other hand, I’m finally motivated to open one of the seventeen fondue kits we’ve received for Christmas over the past five years. Christmas is a time for silver bells and silver linings.
Not more than three feet away from the strange cups of Swiss cheese were packages of Holiday Crackers, nearly identical to the ones I reviewed last year. I’d hoped that the different art style on this year’s crackers meant that there would be a different gamut of prizes, but it was the same crap I got last year. Boo.
Click here see the loot. Really random and worthless stuff, including a plastic whistle, 9-piece jigsaw puzzle, half-sized pencils and paper crowns. The concept of these crackers is alluring, but boy, the prizes are a sad finale.
For those unaware, you’re supposed to leave a cracker at each child’s table setting for Christmas dinner. They pop it open, get a prize, and then celebrate by eating. If I ever meet a child who would applaud the gift of a half-sized pencil, I may give it a go.
The prizes were largely disappointing, but one was actually worth cheering for…
Some kind of Macross/Transformers-style paper action figure, which you get to put together yourself! He’s tiny and he doesn’t hold together well (getting his eight body parts to stay together for that one photo above took fifteen minutes), but I think, if I was six-years-old, and I was about to eat dinner, and I found this thing on my plate…yes, I would be okay with that. But then, I am eternally flexible and easy to please.
And now, the meat of today’s entry…
It’s time for our seemingly-annual “BEST CHRISTMAS PRESENT EVER” survey. I can’t even pretend that we haven’t done this before, because not only have we done this before…we’ve done it several times. But it ain’t Christmas unless you talk about the stuff you got when Christmas mattered ten times as much.
However, I’d like to change things up from the previous surveys a bit. This time, don’t just chat about the best Christmas presents you received — tell everyone about the gifts you wanted the most. Even if you stopped caring about ‘em by December 26th. I’m talking about the stuff you spent weeks and weeks dreaming about. The toys that made you feign a belief in Santa Claus, just on the off-chance that he really did exist and could help you achieve your goals.
If I had to pick one that I didn’t actually get, it’d be the first Nintendo Game Boy. I don’t know if it was sold out or too expensive or what, but despite my best begging, my parents passed on that one and got me a bicycle instead. It was a great bike, but I pretended to hate it because it wasn’t a Game Boy. Kind of a bastardy thing to do, but I guess it worked, because I got the Game Boy for my birthday two months later.
And I had to pick one that I was dying for and did get, that’s easy:
Yes, the original Coleco “ALF” doll. I’ve told this story in bits and pieces, but here’s the whole, exciting tale. I was an ALF maniac from Day 1, buying into the sitcom as the absolute pinnacle of edgy comedy. I quit boy scouts for a year because it conflicted with ALF’s television schedule. I lived and breathed ALF. Before the world was swarmed with ALF-related posters, puppets and coloring books, the world’s first chance to bring him home was Coleco’s awesome plush doll.
This doll was all I wanted for Christmas in 1986. Had I received ten boxes of crayons and one ALF doll, I would’ve been happy. When requesting ALF as one of my Christmas presents, all tact went out the window. I didn’t portray the stuffed animal as something I wanted, but more like a serum needed to cure a debilitating disease. I reminded my mother of ALF’s importance on a daily basis, doing everything in my power to make her understand how horrible Christmas would be (for me and her both) if it came and went without an ALF doll.
In my family, the tradition was to celebrate on Christmas Eve and open all of the presents at midnight. Christmas Day was virtually meaningless for me. Whatever you guys consider the day after Christmas to be — that was Christmas Day for me..
And so, on Christmas Eve in 1986, after hours of Canada Dry and crab legs and clanging metal folding chairs, the clock struck midnight to signal “Christmas proper,” and we all started tearing the wrapping paper. I opened many fine gifts that night, but the ALF doll was not one of them. Engulfed in Christmas spirit, I decided not to kill my mother. On the inside, I was dying.
Early the next morning, I groggily wandered into the living room, perhaps armed with a holiday-only version of the sixth sense. There was really no reason for me to get up so early, as it had long been established that there would be no extra presents on Christmas morning.
And yet, there they were. A bunch of things under the tree. Wonderful things. Things that weren’t wrapped, but simply placed in plain view. Board games, an Inhumanoids figure, and yes…Coleco’s ALF doll. COLECO’S. ALF DOLL.
I guess it wasn’t really a miracle, but it sure felt like one. I thanked my parents. I thanked my sister, even though she had nothing to do with it. I thanked Santa, because why not? ALF was mine. No longer limited to thirty minutes a week with my favorite being on this or any planet, I tugged that doll around as if it was my conjoined twin, and to this day, it’s the only stuffed animal I’ve ever been proud of owning.
As seen above, ALF arrived in an extremely cool spaceship-themed cardboard box. Look at that doll and look at that box. Picture them in mint condition. Now picture them unwrapped under the holy glow of a lit tree at dawn on Christmas morning. Total magic.
From his curious tuft of light brown hair to his awesome Tic Tac teeth, getting my stupid ALF will always rank among my favorite Christmas memories. Everybody gets their own Red Ryder BB Gun moment, and this was mine. What was yours?
Posted by Matt. E-mail me!
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Seeing as how I was raised a Jehovah’s Witness, I never got to celebrate Christmas. I mean, my parents would still get me presents here and there throughout the year, but there was never an orgasmic unloading of multiple gifts. As far as the best gift I ever received goes, it would have to be my Barbie Dream House. Thing was huge. I was always a pretty big tomboy, but I loved thinking up crazy cockamamie soap opera plots for my various Barbies and action figures. Good times.
Of course, now that I’m older, my parents don’t really care that I celebrate Christmas. (And by celebrate, I mean read X-E articles and admire all the decorated houses.) Last year I spent a little over a hundred dollars on money I didn’t have to buy posters and tee-shirts for my friends. Each of them got at least one gift, and some of them got four. What did I get? Three gifts total. Two DVDs (both of which ruled: Roger Corman collection and Reservoir Dogs 10th Anniversary Edition), and a fucking Pop-Tart pillow. It’s a cool pillow, but the friend that gave it got three posters and a Samurai Delicatessen shirt. I felt a little jilted to say the least.
So this year, my friends and I have agreed not to purchase each other presents. I’m making a silkscreen printer for my boyfriend, but that’s it. Money’s too tight.
Lori: The Marie-middle-name-thing is weird. My sister, one of my acquaintances, and my friend’s mom all have Marie as their middle name. What the hell? Some unspoken rule?
Aaron: I’m so glad that there’s at least one person here that’s younger then me. I’d hate to be the only one here who grew up with Rocko and Stimpy as opposed to Strawberry Shortcake and He-Man. Though I will admit, kids of the 80s had better toys. Not a lot of Rocko merch, to tell the truth.
Rev.: May I third the Jareth crush? To paraphrase Mista Snowman, “BOWIE IS FINE” Even my boyfriend has a crush on him.