A Christmas Story

I was in San Francisco for Christmas, away from a well-stocked Christmas kitchen, and had to make do with some family at a Chinese restaurant. It reminded me a bit of one of the least P.C. scenes in one of my favorite movies:

Has there ever been a better Christmas movie than this? This even beats out the Grinch (original, of course), the Rankin-Bass films, or Emmet Otter’s Jugband Christmas.

Released in 1983, this film portrays the youth of a young kid named Ralphie growing up in the immediately post-WWII era, a place that most parents of Ralphie-aged kids in the 80’s would recognize. Somehow the film’s era and pacing and warmth and humor was just right, hitting a hot button of nostalgia in every generation who saw it–those who grew up then, those who were still growing up, and those who lived through the forties and fifties as adults. I mean, my grandmother loved this film! Yet with its bits about cursing and flagpole licking, and its acknowledgment of the literally painful travails of childhood, it was hip enough that it still resonates now.

Anyway, the last thing I need to do in the dwindling hours of Christmas is to blog, so I’ll leave you with the image that this movie put into my head for all those years I watched it on Christmases in the 80’s:

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