Is nothing sacred anymore?

Last night while visiting the "Somerset Collection" (don't get me started about how it's a collection and not a mall), I was made privy to the fact that Santa takes appointments.

Appointments, you ask?

Yes, appointments.

Apparently kids these days are too busy to stand in line for Santa, like EVERYONE ELSE ON EARTH did. Instead, they check in, get a time, and can run around like crazy in this play area.

I can see where some parents might mistakenly think of this as a good idea, but let's put it this way--it's a horrible idea. Kids from my generation on down have become accustomed to not having to wait for anything in an organized fashion. You want a song? Download it. You want a fancy cup of coffee? Go to Starbucks. You want to shop? You can just go online. The worst part of it all is that parents wonder where their kids went wrong when they can't be patient enough for the simplest things. We're giving kids TVs in cars, and videos on demand. They get everything they want WHEN they want it and they're never taught the value of waiting.

This whole Santa experiment at Somerset just reinforces that type of behavior. Kids learn through everyday exercises of restraint--like waiting in line patiently or not getting to see Santa. Instead, they can run around, play giant checkers and shop while Santa gets ready for their arrival. Instead of Santa being the main attraction, it's the kids.

I don't know how parents with half a brain do it these days. The influences throughout a child's life are so hell-bent on making things as easy as possible. Kids don't experience the joy of receiving after waiting--they just "get" on demand.

It's a sad day on the North Pole. Just text Santa, and he'll tell you.

Mouse on the Mayflower

Does anyone remember this movie but me? It used to play every year after the Hudson's Thanksgiving Parade. Round about the time Coleman Young (ugh) would hand Santa Claus the key to the city (I'm shocked he gave a key to a white man for so many years--especially one from the north), I'd be settling in for this Thanksgiving classic.

Like many things in life, Thanksgiving isn't what it used to be when I was a kid. We'd all be a family for a day, without the pressure or pleasure of gifts, just food, family and togetherness. Ida would have cooked a delicious meal, the kids would have sat in the kitchen at the kids table trying to clean their plates to make room for dessert, we'd chase each other around and make rootbeer floats and just be happy. I don't even like rootbeer or creamsoda and it makes me want one. Just the thought of the simplicity of it all--that's what I was thankful for and what I'm wishful for today. That one day, things may seem that simple again, even for a moment, in this life.

Thanksgiving was always my favorite holiday. It was the only holiday that was about being grateful for what you have, instead of wishing for that which you did not. Even as a kid, the materialism of Christmas made it difficult to enjoy that day, but Thanksgiving was free from that. It was the giving of thanks, but it also always felt like the beginning of something new. It ushers in the Christmas season (when people used to be decent enough to wait until after Thanksgiving to put up those decorations) and with every new season is the hope that life will be as magical as it is when you're at your happiest, most calm, but most excited moments. It's not the gifts, it's the magic I'd wish for, and Thanksgiving was the day on which the wait for the magic began.

I wish I could recapture those feelings--those youthful dreams of a better tomorrow, but a thankful today. Maybe if/when I have kids of my own I'll be able to feel them again. Until then, I'll continue to give thanks and wait with baited breath for the magic.

This little movie reminds me of that. I just wish they still played it. I know it's not a historic account of what happened at all, but it's not the history contained in the movie that I'm nostalgic about--it's my history that it recalls just by being mentioned.