On Christmas Eve, I sat with my entire family in my grandfather’s sitting room. My uncle, the cool fraternity boy who was home on Christmas break from the state University, had rented what he dubbed “the greatest Christmas movie of all time.” My grandmother, who was particularly fond of Jimmy Stewart, assumed that he was speaking of It’s A Wonderful Life, and expressed her disappointment when the words A Christmas Story appeared in the opening credits. ”They don’t make Christmas movies the way they used to,” she said. But my uncle chided, “Give it a chance, Mom.”
*Visit Tweetspeak for the text of my haiku tribute to A Christmas Story. It’s good fun over there.