. S • . ■ .■» Herald & lantern 19 December '84 >

On Fixed Income? Rename Your Old Parcheesi By T. J. Porch President Grouchy Old Folks of Sea Isle City There is a television commercial that is frequently shown at this time of the year. The cast of characters consists of: a man, his wife, a boy and a girl. They are gathered around a table in their home and they are playing a board game. As the scene opens, the children are pounding the table and screaming in an ungodly manner. Their mother is clasping her hands to her face and staring at her husband with wide open eyes. It is daddy 's turn to play Evidentally this one play will decide the outcome of the game Daddy is on his feet, his trembling hands showing more than a trace of cowardice as he makes his move He will either win the game or it will be DISASTRO! DISASTRO! it is. The screaming rises to an unbearable pitch. Daddy sinks back in his chair and pounds his fists against his temples — truly a beaten man. The announcer's voice comes on — "You can have the heart* stopping thrills of DISASTRO in your home for the holidays! Only $39.95 in better toy stores everywhere." WHILE DOING MY holiday shopping recently, I chanced upon a display of DISASTRO games. No one was watching, so 1 opened one of the boxes, determined to find out why (without paying $39.95) this game was so exciting. I read and re-read the rules. I couldn't believe my eyes. This game was nothing but Parcheesi! Yep, same rules, same board and same little markers When I was young, people used Parcheesi the way we use sleeping pills today. It was known as the world's most boring game. Our dog would swoon when he saw us take the box Ait of the closet. The cat, already a very loose creature/ would go into rigor mortis. We would all sit around fee table, set up the game and start dozing. My nose wouU grow numb. Grandpop's dentures would start sliding autaf his mouth. My Mom, who didn't play the game, had to be the one to break it up. She would yell at us to get up and go to bed before we got a "crick" in our necks. ALL THIS LEADS UP to a Yuletide money saving suggestion for you Senior Citizens Look through that stuff you brought down here when you retired and I'm sure that you will come across at least four or five Parcheesi games. Get out your magic market and change the names on the boxes. Use newnames like "Dire Peril" or "Death to the Invader." Wrap the games up and send them to your friends. To keep from being called a cheapskate, you can write on j each box, "Merry Christmas — I'm on a fixed income! " ( (ED. NOTE: T. J. Porch is also Tom Porch.) ^ ,

the SOVEREIGN STATE of AFFAIRS * * rw.j o ,

Gift Buying Has Changed

By DOROTHY D. FREAS Listening to some little frauds' requests to Santa Claus, we wonder how some of Santa's helpers can avoid bankruptcy. Christmas arrives for most folks on Dec. 25th, although history tells us that Jan. 1st, 6th, 10th and 17th have been some of the dates on which it was celebrated before 350 A D Even May 20th was finally ruled out by the official proclamation of the "Feast of the Nativity." Although parents know that Christmas will arrive on Dec. 25th, there are often hidden early purchases, and thus the bills are spread over a few months. At the beginning of this century, prices were different ajM the lists to Santa were usually "weeded out" to a fewitems, some of these, replacements for garments wearing out or becoming "out -grown. " EACH ONE of the family hung a stockirfg on Christmas Eve. In the early morning on Christmas Day, it was fun to reach down toward the toe. A new hair brush for each of the girls stuck out of the top of thefr long, black stockings. ~ \ Helen was still a little girl, so the oval wooden brush (23 cents) would do. Susan, however, wanting a pretty brush, received a black composition brush, with a fancy design (49 cents). It was just what she wanted. An apple and an orange filled the lower space in all the stockings. George and Jim each found a new top, although George had requested a razor (96 cents), but that could wait for his birthday. After all, only the softest fuzz was beginning to grow on his chin, so later was time enough for the razor A P APER-WRAPPED bundle of stockings was added to the gifts for each one. After all, those articles do wear out Mother's size cost "3 pairs for 60 cents." Black cotton, but at that higher price, they wouldn't change from black to "rusty black" with age. Each child received six pairs of black cotton stockings at 95 cents for the package Pa would start the year with suspenders and new workpants, the combination adding one dollar to the Christmas budget. Two dolls and two games were the extravagant items — parcheesi, dominoes, and two pretty dolls — total, two dollars more. THE CHRISTMAS TREE, trimmed with strings of pop corn, paper chains, cornucopias and paper lanterns, was

lovely, and with all those gifts under it, it, was a real Christmas picture. Now the trend is for modern Christmas trees and gifts to be. breath taking - everything must be of the most expen sive, fancy ornaments, special lights and quantities of gifts for everyone. If Mom "has everything" perhaps, for her windshield an ice scraper with a small silver fox muff attached, to keep hands warm. It is really nice, at $50, a good trifle of a stocking stuffejr. A fur coat at $5^000 would be satisfactory as the main gift, perhaps with some gold jewelry7 Dad may wfcnt a sailboat, new golf clubs or < suggestion ) even a robot to assist him with occasional bar duties It rents (not for sale! ) for $900 a day. The older children will make a long list, a dune buggy, a motor bike , a whole set of Cabbage Patch dolls for the lit tie girl ; the teen-age daughter prefers expensive perfume and fad jewelry AS WE CAN SEE, gift buying has changed over the years These suggestions were taken from a 1900 cataloc and a 1984 one. What is most important on this day, however, is that lye remember the great gift to Man of a Baby born in Bethlehem. Our gift to Him should be renewed promise to live the way he taught He said "Thou shall love God," but we show our obedience to those words by putting our hearts into action for the second part — "Love thy neighbor" is a gift to give throughout the year While looking and listening to gifts of the past, of the present and of thd future, we pause to wish everyone a Merry Christmas (ED. NOTE: Freas. of Villas, writes tbokin' and Listenin' for the Herald-Lantern. )

Christmas: A Sad Memory / ' i

By RUTH ALCORN WANBERG 1 truly love the Christmas season. It is the time of the year we set to remember old friends. We invite neighbors and friends into our homes simply because we are delighted to see them. It is a special time to get together with family And for me, it's also a time for reminiscence. When I think back to my childhood, Christmas seemed so grand, even though it may have been very simple. I can vividly remember the excitement and sheer joy I experienced waking up on Christinas morning, the thrill of opening my presents and the joy of watching the happy faces of family members when they opened my gifts to them. I can remember visiting "Mom-Mom", my favorite grandmother. The lights on her tree were little candles that bubbled and I would stand there watching them, fascinated. There in her house, surrounded by so much love, I always felt so good. BUT I ALSO REMEMBER one Christmas of long ago. It actually began just before Christmas, when I was playing "make-believe" house with my favorite doll, a china doll named "Susan." I had just tucked her under a blanket when my brother, Bill, who was two years older, burst into the room, slamming the door. I hushed him, "Be quiet, my baby's asleep." "Aw, that's not a baby," he replied sarcastically, '"Dial's just an old doll. See?" and he pulled off her blanket. Protectively, I grabbed hold of my doll and then, on a sudden impulse, I hit him over the head with it! I heard something crack and it wasn't my brother's head — it was my beautiful doll. Her face was broken!" I was stunned. What had I done! Well, my mother came in and said she would send Susan to the doll hospital, but she was most upset because I could have hurt my brother. « All I could think of was my poor doll. THEN IT WAS Christmas Eve. Early in the day our family went, en masse, to select THE tree. It was placed, as usual, on its stand in the living room where it would remain on trimmed until after we children were in bed. While we slept, Sanfe would stogby to deliver gifts and trim the tree. After, he wouldoMpy the large glass of milk and our very best cookies s^Jn on a table near the tree. Then we said our prayers ar^^ ere tucked lovingly in bed . But that Christmas Eve I was too excited to sleep for you see, I had shared a special "secret" with Santa Claus. He was the only one who knew that, for my main Christmas present, I wanted Susan back, all fixed up and with new clothes. j

As I lay there in bed, I recalled my visit to Santa, how I had sat on his knee and whispered my secret wish in his ear. He had smiled and nodded and said if I was a good girl, I would get what I wanted. I HAD ASKED for lots of other things also. Then I had a horrible thought — had I asked for too much? I lay quietly, listening-There wasn't a sound downstairs. Had Santa already come and gone? I slipped quietly out of bed. Halfway down the stairs I could see the milk and cookies, still untouched, so no Santa yet. I crept back to bed. There I had another thought — what if Santa blundered and took my presents to the wrong house. Or, perhaps he thought I was naughty and I wouldn't get anything at all The enormity of that idea was frightening! But finally, excitement and worry gave way to exhaustion and I fell fast asleep. When I awoke it was morning and I heard voices downstairs. I bounced out of bed and flew down the stairs. The tree was beautiful. I saw the table and chairs I had asked for. I opened a large package I thought was Susan, but it was another doll. She was pretty but not what I was looking for. When finally I had opened all my presents. I was still looking foHFHE one. Perhaps it was hidden, I reasoned, it would be a special surprise. I HEARD MY FATHER saying, "There's one more present. Santa couldn't J&ring it in the house, so all of you get dressed and we'll go outside for a look." My heart sang Santa HAD remembered my secret! I sped upstairs, got dressed and was waiting at the door. Ifcy father led us out to the garage and opened the big door. I was very surprised, almost shocked, to see a horse inside. It was a white and tan three-quarter horse I had been expecting something much smaller. My father was holding the horse's bridle, saying. "This is Tnxie, your very own horse!" My brothers were ecstatic ! But disappointment was more than I could handle. The floodgates opened and the tears just wouldn't stop. Several weeks later Susan came home with a brand new head but it was too late to erase my sad memory of that Christmas. That was many years ago. I now have four children and one on the way, but I guess I'll always have that poignant memory. And I wonder sometimes because of some inadvertent actiWTBn my part, if any of my children will have a similar experience. , (ED. NOTE: Wanberg. who wrote " Diet Dos " for the Herald Lantern thw year. lives inAvalon with mostly hap py memories.)

Joy ride III By Libby Demp Forrest

I was a sickly kid growing up. Got every germ that came down the pike. Skinny, too. (How times change ) One of the more gratifying assignments I get working at the Herald-Lantern is putting together the "Helping Hand section each year between Thanksgiving and Christmas It always brings home to me personally that this can be a caring world. It also brings home to me glimpses of my own childhood ( and erf long ago Christmases The other night I remembered when I was the recipient of a helping hand on a long ago Christmas. I WAS GOING through a spell of ear aches. Week after week my mother would drag me on the trolley car to a hospital where we would sit for hours in a clinic waiting to have doctors poke long wires down my ears My father had died in the late summer and I remember staring out the windows of the trolleys watching the blocks of West Philadelphia pass by. That year I was a kid who was not only sickly, but sad a lot of the time. At school I had wads of cotton in my ears ; I had to have drops of globby stuff put into my ears at night Sometimes the doctors would stick long wires up my nose as well and my nose bothered me a lot of the time too. BUT COMING HOME from school one day during that long ago Christmas time my mother told me a social worker from the hospital had come to the house and left a package for me. Packages were rare occurrences and I could not imagine what the hospital would send to me, if not a bunch of long wires for someone to stick down my ears at home until the next trip to the hospital But inside that package was a pair of mittens and a book The mittens long ago wore out or got lost, but I have the book to this day. It stayed in the basemttt of my mother's house for many years until it eventuadknade its way to my home in Cape May. *f THE OTHER NIGHT it came to ju very clearly I still know intimately every story in thanjMcJJt is a book about children around the world Each ChaptoKfc about children in a different country I would study thjHhustrations for hours and I often dreamed of visiting th| countries in the book. Time has marched on and I've done a line traveling. That book helped to make geography interestiiC but it also made a hospital a humane place Maybe thefectors who stuck the wires down my ears didn't really hme hurting me My ears are Fine now. I even had them (Arced some years back, and The Hubby now and then give* me gifts of earrings to wear. T We all have our Christmas memories -So many of them That helping hand to me many Chris tmises ago is a wellspring of why I enjoy doing "Helping Hand" so much each year. T A joyful holiday to all this Christmas pf 1964.