Christmas, 2006 Edition

The best thing about Christmas is the goodies, and by "goodies" I don't necessarily mean the presents that are exchanged, but all the things that only surface around this time of year. Okay, a lot of it is crap, but that just adds to its charm.

When I was growing up there were only two big meals each year: Thanksgiving and Christmas. Since my immediate family were the only ones living in California there weren't usually more people at the table than at any other meal during the year, but the turkey dinners brought from the nooks and crannies of the cupboards all manner of strange dining devices. None of these showed up at any other time of the year, so I consider them holiday goodies.

There are the obvious things, like the snowmen cheese knives, which might be considered inappropriate for August snacking, and otherwise useful things like the large plate divided into sections. That could be used any time, but it only makes an appearance with the big meals and invariably contains the same assortment of olives, celery, carrots, and pickles. Depending on how hungry we get waiting for the real food to show up, those snackable vegetables are as frequently decorative as not.

I, myself, have a service of eight that's been used no more than three times. There are lovely little red flowers on it, I think, and looks more festive than the normal dinnerware, but it, too, lives out its ceramic existance in a remote location at the top of the highest cupboard. My guess would be there's a frightening layer of dust on top, if only you could see it.

One of my favorite things, long since gone, was a set of plastic bins. The larger were designed to hold not only the smaller ones, which were filled with corn and peas, but a healthy helping of hot water. In theory, the vegetables would sit on the table, bathed in warming water, and never get cold. They worked pretty well as far as I can recall.

Also making their appearance at this time of year are serving spoons and forks and more bowls than you can imagine. I have no idea why they're not used the rest of the year, but part of that may be because I can usually fit my nightly dinner on one plate.

When I was married, I vowed to make use of the wedding presents and to use all this dinnerware and serving things as often as possible. I did, too, until my wife chose to live away from me, so I can be proud of that. We had a hutch filled with the better dining goodies, and we pulled them out and used them several times a year.

At this house, though, the festive straws are pulled from a drawer each holiday season, never used, and returned to exile until the next year. Napkins and tablecloths, both with and without snowmen, make their appearance, and its the presence of all these silly things that put me in the Christmas mood. More than the decorated tree, more than the houseful of glittered pine cones and clothespin people, the electric carving knife, to me, means holidays.

The only reason not to use most of this crap the rest of the year is simple: when it appears, it's special.