Yesterday, I spent the bulk of the day relaxing. I think most of it was sleeping, something I don’t get to much lately. By late afternoon, Somara and I headed to Georgetown to spend the evening exchanging gifts with her family. A low-key thing as always. I just don’t get so worked up over this holiday, New Year’s has been my thing since college but it won’t be very eventful either, not until the new car situation is figured out.
I feel we did pretty well this season, mainly in finding nice gifts for our friends and family. We worked a bit harder on it since the economy took a dump on some we know; we wanted to share our good fortune because it’s the compassionate thing to do which brands me as a Neo-Communist by some. I guess I am since I treated myself to a humorous shirt of a Communist icon.
This year definitely made me reflect a lot more heavily about the sacrifice my parents undertook to give me one of the greatest gifts I ever wanted and received…the first version of Kenner’s Millennium Falcon. They gave me many other cool things before and after 1979 but this is the one which has always been the most memorable, especially in light of the events leading up to it.
The year was off to an inauspicious ending at every level for my family. As soon as we had settled in Springfield, nothing went well for America. The Iranian hostage situation started; gas prices nearly doubled from 60 cents/gallon to over a dollar in my part of America ($1.76 to $2.93 in 2008 money, so the $2.49 I’m paying is a bargain); inflation continued to menace the non-rich; and the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan (I think they claimed to be “invited” by certain government elements). At home, the Recession of the late Seventies-early Eighties came to roost. I can’t remember when but Dad got laid off from the new job that brought us to Springfield. Being a self-absorbed kid with my own “problems,” it took a while for me to notice something had to be wrong, namely him not at work before and after school. The situation wasn’t a complete disaster, Dad landed a new job by the time I had to courage to pry. This explained the afternoon he met Brian and me at St. Agnes; he had an interview at the state-government building across the street. His new position didn’t start until the last quarter of 1979 so I guess he was brushing up on his computer science skills after selling the equipment for the last several years.
Unfortunately, Dad’s new career paid less (some things never change for government employees) yet we kids didn’t really notice much. Our parents were already skilled at the art of telling us “no” which made us accustomed to being “deprived” of la dolce vita our classmates had. You know, going to the movies every weekend or whatever 11-year-olds thought was cool in 1979. Never mind getting to participate in a Saturday-morning bowling league or the other occasions our parents indulged us. My point is, Mom and Dad didn’t go nuts every day or set unrealistic expectations on luxuries. Brian and I were usually satisfied getting to play outside with the new friends we made, riding our bikes to Washington Park or watching cartoons. We were far from being perfect children though. We were like all Americans, more crap was better! So when those Christmas catalogs from Sears, JC Penney’s and K’s Merchandise Mart arrived in August, the last 50 pages containing the toys were pretty worn by Thanksgiving.
The one thing I fixated on was the Millennium Falcon toy in all those catalogs. I already had an X-Wing Fighter and a small army of the action figures but my life wasn’t “complete” without this. I probably bored my parents to tears going on and on about it too. (I have no idea what its equivalent would be today, I should ask my brother, his son is 11 now.) Well, I think they knew it was pretty important so they ponied up the $20-25 to buy it (around $75 today while the toy has been improved and goes for $250 at Target) when the money could’ve been put toward something more practical.
When I officially received it on Christmas Day, I was beside myself with joy. Officially? Thanks to my brother’s infamous snooping skills, I had been tipped about it by Halloween. I think I even saw the box. However, I blocked it from my mind because it was too important to me then. I also figured that my parents would send it back to the store it came from as a punishment if I even thought I had the Falcon in the bag. To this day, I hope Brian’s two kids didn’t inherit his ability to find their gifts ahead of time.
Years later, my friends Lee and Eiko gave me the 1995 version for Christmas. All those feelings came rushing back to me over the next several weeks and made me realize the efforts my parents made to give me what was the kick-ass toy of 1979 against some pretty oddly odds. I’ve never really forgotten it either. My only wish since then is to help some other children with such a quest. Lately it seems relatively easy, they tend to want iPods or video games (because they already own the console).
Beyond getting the toy of 1979, the rest of the Break is a blur. It was our first Christmas in Springfield. The first one at our house I really remember. Staying up late to watch Dick Clark on New Year’s Eve to welcome the Eighties. Playing basketball for St. Agnes and getting eliminated in the first round of the Fifth-Sixth Grade Christmas Tournament. Watching the movie Whoopee! on HBO multiple times and seeing both Star Trek the Motion(less) Picture and the Black Hole at White Oaks Mall.