When They Used to call it Christmas

Carson's Main Isle (Notions Dept.) 1958
Marshall Field's Main Isle 1941
Marshall Field's Toy Department 1949 Candy Cane Lane

Remember when the Christmas season used to be called the CHRISTMAS SEASON? Not the "holidays", semester break, winter break, blah, blah, blah. Come see the Macy's holiday tree!!! Oh wow, a holiday tree! What other holiday has a tree anyway? Where did we go wrong? When did it become offensive to say Christmas? Last time I checked, all the "holiday" festivities and traditions that we still do today came from the celebration of Christmas.
The Christmas season these days really is the holiday season. In retail land, it's generic, impersonal and without excitement. We have lost so much of the fantasy, opulence, grandeur, and reverence for Christmas. Do families still go downtown to view the decorated windows of the stores? Now that Carsons is gone from State Street, that leaves Marsh...gag...Macy's. Are we standing in line for hours to sit beneath the Martha Stewart Tree in the Walnut Room? Dressing up the kids to wander through the elaborate Christmas village erected to keep the kids happy while waiting to sit on Santa's knee in the Cozy Cloud Cottage? Afterwards, prouldly displaying the red button on their coats which told the world "I SAW FIELD's SANTA",then off to the Crystal Palace to reward the patient little ones with a scoop of ice cream? My kids remember visiting the Crystal Palace and if we were lucky, we would get a table by the window to view the skaters in the rink below. I'm sure that rink was a temporary fix (which lasted a few years)for the hole created by a demolished vintage building. But it sure beats the new glass and metal monolith that has since replaced the rink. You could ride the shiny brass door elevators run by uniformed elevator operators to the 5th, 6th, or 7th floors to view the main isle from above. The Main Isle of Marshall Field's and Carson Pirie Scott were decked out in displays magical and elaborate enough to rival the efforts of Disneyland. The gleaming mahogany display cases held everything you could imagine. And the toy departments were a sight to behold. Try getting that kind of thrill from the isles of Target or Toys R Us.
I recently found a wonderful book that revisits the wonder of Christmases past. It is an offering from Arcadia Publishing from their Images of America series. These books are an absolute treasure to those of us who remember and appreciate days gone by that truly were special. I selected just a few of the hundreds of wonderful photos included in Christmas on State Street 1940s and Beyond . Author, Robert P. Ledermann.


Photos reprinted with permission from Images of America Christmas On State Street 1940's And Beyond, by Robert P. Ledermann. Available from the publisher online at www.arcadiapublishing.com or by calling 888-313-2665.

P.S. I correct myself. The holiday tree that I referred to at Macy's, formerly Marshall Field's on State Street, is actually called, and I kid you not, The Centennial Great Tree, by Martha Stewart. PU-LEEEEZE!

Having Super Powers does not make you a Superhero

I have super powers. I have the ability to be in two places at the same time. Actually anybody can do this and I bet alot of people do. Trouble is it's not really a beneficial power to have because it often is a result of restlessness and/or dissatisfaction. I refuse to admit to the latter because I pride myself in being a positive minded, glass half full type of girl. (Please refrain from snickering here upon my use of "girl".) It is more like looking at life as it is and imagining your life, very vividly, in great detail, as it might be. Some of us do this because we are miserable with how life has been. (That is not me, thankfully!) Some of us do this because we learn about who we are, what we are good at, what we enjoy, slowly, over many years. (Yes, that is me.)
Trouble is, and it is a good trouble to have, I love too much of my life to throw it over to chase my imagined life. Lest you start wondering what type of perverse, alter ego nonsense I may be imagining, let me explain. I live in an Oak Park architectural gem, or 19th century downtown brownstone, work as an exhibit curator at the Chicago History Museum and have a vintage summer cottage somewhere on the shores of Lake Michigan. My family is here too because I would never give them up for anything. But they are grown, living nearby, leading their very interesting independent lives. They can visit the Lake Michigan cottage anytime they like. My hobby is collaborating with my very talented, film maker daughter on documentaries of historic architecture or Chicago history. I also think I would have been a great set decorator for period movies. Creating all of those minute details, some never really seen by the viewers but employed to give a sense of time and place to the story. (Explained beautifully by the directors commentary in Miss Pettigrew Lives for A Day I might add.)Also daughter #2 figures in some creative way which I don't know yet because she doesn't know yet! Too much like her mother I'm afraid.
But I digress, alot. Back to the super powers...
I guess this doesn't qualify me for superhero status, because nothing really heroic is achieved with these so called powers. Bummer because I think I could come up with a really great superhero outfit that would start with some amazing designer pumps that would be totally useless but look crazy good. A superhero in a little black dress.
Boy this really didn't end up where I thought it would. I was going to get all philosophical about blooming where you're planted, etc. I was really inspired by a friend who is sort of a mess right now, unhappy with alot of things. And I see where he could be, where he probably will be before long. After he shakes off the hurt (easy for me to say) and focuses on where he's going in spite of where he's been. I hope his learning curve is faster than mine because he is very talented and as I've always thought, destined for great things. And great things can be just about anything and anywhere but they start with and appreciation for who you are and the gifts you have been given and the responsibility we have not to squander them. As I always say, Use Your Powers For Good!

Christmas

I guess it has to happen eventually. Here sooner rather than later. What goes up, must come down. I'm referring to the annual chore of taking down the Christmas decorations. Luckily we can count on the occasional 60-80 degree day to get the outside down before a cold snap comes through. Cold as in windy and 30-40 degrees. Big wup right? But we Dallasites are conditioned to our climate and pull out the parkas (wait a minute, this is Dallas, we don the furs darling) when the thermometer dips below 50. The tree came down last. I just couldn't give up the beautiful glow that tree lent to the daily routine. I only put up half as much paraphenalia as I could have. Several boxes stayed in storage because I just dread the take down. I have enough gorgeous, one of a kind ornaments for two trees which I have done many times in years past. When the kids were little we always had a real tree. Dad insisted on it and yes, though it was a mess that he literally wrestled into its inadequate stand each year the scent was intoxicating. Granted it never seemed straight and it actually came crashing to the ground one year, thus obliterating several of those treasured ornaments I had spent a lifetime collecting. Now with the girls grown the real tree has become expendable and the elaborate schemes to produce a magical visit from Santa are over, sadly and thankfully. I keep telling myself, next year I will have the energy to do the whole shabang to the hilt once again. But realistically, we have quiet Christmases here, no extended family to celebrate with, to owe the obligatory holiday visit to, to have dropping by to eat up the four dozen decorated butter cookies that still sit mostly uneaten.
But I have lots of memories of Christmases past, near past and long past. I think of Christmases to come with the kids scattered to the four corners (which yes, I was the first one guilty of flight in my family. Payback is hell.) Will Christmases become more lonely and fractured? Will they feel the pull to come home or create their own traditions? Whether they are with me or their own families, I hope they feel the joy of creating memories of their own, feel the love of their family from Christmases past, know the joy that only this season brings if they remember that no matter how simple or elaborate they make it, what they do with love remains in the heart.