What a sparkling memoir to read this icy day in NYC. I worked in Bloomingdale's one Christmas, okaying every return because I couldn't remember any other procedure.
What a wonderful bit of memoir! Nothing like my life and yet entirely relatable. Plus, the most compelling headline I’ve read in a long time. Happy holidays!
This made me smile all the way through, even while skewering out-of-control consumerism.
A note: in 1992, my then-4-year-old son informed me that he didn’t believe in Santa because “not everybody has chimneys, and if reindeer flew that fast, they’d burn up in the atmosphere.”
He believes in miracles much more, now that he has kids of his own. 😏
This is a wonderfully merry and wry slice of life I related to at every turn, even though my life experiences couldn’t be more different. That’s the sign of a terrific storyteller. Thank you for the inspiration!
Cool article! I think my new New Year's resolution has just become, "Live as though everything is a miracle." That and, "Stay away from Substack Notes as much as possible!" Thank you for this (and thank you, Mr. Einstein!). I hope your paper cuts healed up okay. I also hope the gift-wrapped llama went to a good home!
I had a couple of jobs while I was at UMass. One was dishwashing in the dining commons, working hard to resist the urge to attempt to retrieve glasses that occasionally slipped down to get crunched up by the constantly running garbage disposal. The other was doing recycling, spending Saturday morning climbing into a big dumpster full off mostly beer bottles and smashing them to tiny bits with a sledgehammer (dangerous but fun!). My bosses didn't mind bloodshed.
Holiday Greetings to you! I loved this! I related to this! From the way it sounds, we are close in our "maturity" and I have also been remembering this year (with a few tears, not gonna lie!) my mother taking great care, love, and pride in her elegant gift-wrapping skills. They were a work of art. I remember my father (a railroader and not home much) taking vacation time around Christmas so we could both play with trains and spend quality time together. Now, I am "more mature" and pastoring a church as a gay man. I think how the word has changed. My gifts, rarely wrapped, now coincide with tissue paper in bags (my mother is spinning). I am grateful for the time I had with my parents, the love they shared, the special memories we created, and mostly that we took time to be together. So much has changed. And yet, the Christmas story still brings us the message of love with shepherds in bathrobes, young children reluctantly dressed as angels, and church staff worrying if all the entrances for the pageant will be accurate. Through all the worldly chaos, we still have love and miracles. Both are still around, unchanged, and happening all the time. Thanks be to God!
Great story! I lived on Central Ave in the Haight after college. Such wonderful memories. I liked to wander through the fancy department stores--Liberty House, I. Magnin, Macy's--not able to buy anything, but it was fun to look. I would love to live in SF again. Maybe one day!
This is so iconic! I love the way you wrote about this line, “Please keep blood off gifts”—whose existence on a sign is PACKED with charge. (It reminded me while I worked at Condé Nast we were not allowed to wear red nail polish because it could scuff the manuscripts. I was marking up 300 pages a day by hand at major publishers from 2000-2006, and red nail polish was a no-no at both McGraw-Hill and Condé Nast. Of course I ended up being the one to tell new staff not to wear red nail polish, too.)
REFRESHING!!! So nice to read something here that doesn’t raise my blood pressure- just my spirits!! Thank you and Happy, Merry everything!!🤗🤗
To you, too!
Thank you for your comment. Happy holidays to you.
What a sparkling memoir to read this icy day in NYC. I worked in Bloomingdale's one Christmas, okaying every return because I couldn't remember any other procedure.
Ha!
I relate to your comment 1000%. Thank you.
What a wonderful bit of memoir! Nothing like my life and yet entirely relatable. Plus, the most compelling headline I’ve read in a long time. Happy holidays!
To you, too. Glad you enjoyed, Liz.
Thank you for your comment. Happy holidays to you.
This made me smile all the way through, even while skewering out-of-control consumerism.
A note: in 1992, my then-4-year-old son informed me that he didn’t believe in Santa because “not everybody has chimneys, and if reindeer flew that fast, they’d burn up in the atmosphere.”
He believes in miracles much more, now that he has kids of his own. 😏
I believe in miracles, too.
I love this.
This is a wonderfully merry and wry slice of life I related to at every turn, even though my life experiences couldn’t be more different. That’s the sign of a terrific storyteller. Thank you for the inspiration!
Thank you. Deeply grateful for your words.
Cool article! I think my new New Year's resolution has just become, "Live as though everything is a miracle." That and, "Stay away from Substack Notes as much as possible!" Thank you for this (and thank you, Mr. Einstein!). I hope your paper cuts healed up okay. I also hope the gift-wrapped llama went to a good home!
I had a couple of jobs while I was at UMass. One was dishwashing in the dining commons, working hard to resist the urge to attempt to retrieve glasses that occasionally slipped down to get crunched up by the constantly running garbage disposal. The other was doing recycling, spending Saturday morning climbing into a big dumpster full off mostly beer bottles and smashing them to tiny bits with a sledgehammer (dangerous but fun!). My bosses didn't mind bloodshed.
Thank you for your comment. Enjoy the holidays.
Holiday Greetings to you! I loved this! I related to this! From the way it sounds, we are close in our "maturity" and I have also been remembering this year (with a few tears, not gonna lie!) my mother taking great care, love, and pride in her elegant gift-wrapping skills. They were a work of art. I remember my father (a railroader and not home much) taking vacation time around Christmas so we could both play with trains and spend quality time together. Now, I am "more mature" and pastoring a church as a gay man. I think how the word has changed. My gifts, rarely wrapped, now coincide with tissue paper in bags (my mother is spinning). I am grateful for the time I had with my parents, the love they shared, the special memories we created, and mostly that we took time to be together. So much has changed. And yet, the Christmas story still brings us the message of love with shepherds in bathrobes, young children reluctantly dressed as angels, and church staff worrying if all the entrances for the pageant will be accurate. Through all the worldly chaos, we still have love and miracles. Both are still around, unchanged, and happening all the time. Thanks be to God!
I am honored by your words. Thank you.
Great story! I lived on Central Ave in the Haight after college. Such wonderful memories. I liked to wander through the fancy department stores--Liberty House, I. Magnin, Macy's--not able to buy anything, but it was fun to look. I would love to live in SF again. Maybe one day!
Thank you for your comment. It is great to hear from you.
Reading this was so much fun, thank you!! 😊
Thank you for your words!
What a lovely, whimsical essay. Thanks Judith and Sari!
Thank you for your words. Deeply grateful.
What a fabulous read!
Deeply grateful for your words. Thank you.
Love this! Very funny. And yet more brilliant Einstein quotes -
<3
Thank you for your words. Deep bow.
So recognizable, great trip down memory lane. A moment of light in dark times. Chag Chanukah Judith Hannah, Sari & Co!
I am honored by your words. Thank you.
What fun to read a brief history of your life. And and like all lives it was full of humor and absurdity. Thank you.
Thank you. I am grateful for your words.
Pure delight. JHW captures this time of year with all it's magic and melancholy.
Thank you. I am grateful for your words.
grammar alert: meant to say, "its" 🙃
This is so iconic! I love the way you wrote about this line, “Please keep blood off gifts”—whose existence on a sign is PACKED with charge. (It reminded me while I worked at Condé Nast we were not allowed to wear red nail polish because it could scuff the manuscripts. I was marking up 300 pages a day by hand at major publishers from 2000-2006, and red nail polish was a no-no at both McGraw-Hill and Condé Nast. Of course I ended up being the one to tell new staff not to wear red nail polish, too.)
Thank you. It is great to hear from you. I freelanced at Conde for many years.