Posted 11:02 PM by sport

Here's my first extant Santa picture. Mom has dressed me in festive raiment, with suspenders (or "braces" to those of you in the UK, or "galluses" to those of you in the early 19th century) and a seasonal red-n-gold shirt. This picture differs from the subsequent ones in a few details: the throne of Ol' Saint Nick is here a white, betasseled number with stripes and spires. The background wall is neutral. The giveaway booklet - these usually featured coloring pages and cartoon tales of happy children in Santaland - clearly identifies the site as Abraham and Straus department store. Downtown Brooklyn. How dearly I recall the splendor of these stores in Christmastime... huge trees gleaming with lights, glass ornaments and tinsel. The banks of elevators manned by old men who always made gentle remarks to a young boy overwhelmed by the spectacle about and the prospect of meeting HIM.

You'd walk though the herding corridors, deftly done up in paint and glitter to illustrate that year's theme (reflected, of course, in the booklet)... Children of many lands celebrate the holidays... Jimmy and Sally visit the North Pole... Rudolph and friends welcome you... eventually arriving at the "big chair" ...not the one Tears For Fears later referred to. Now, this time I seem a bit tentative. Who could blame me, sitting on the lap of this bug-eyed menace? I dig the beard; it's a quality item with a golden tinge to provide veritas and contrast with the white trim on his outfit. Wonder what I asked him for? More to come on this absorbing topic.