My dad said that when he was a kid, the genuine Santa was the one at Lewis's Department Store in Birmingham - all others were imposters and fakes. This Santa made a grand arrival by steam train at New Street Station. There, a coach and horses waited to take him to his grotto in the magical toy department of Lewis's - what other Santa could compete with that?
The nearest I had to Lewis's was the Tamworth Coop and its Grotto in the basement. Never the less, for a modest fee, you not only had the chance to see Santa - you also got to travel to the North Pole!
With my Mom and sister, we made our way down to the basement and climbed into a sort of large sleigh thing. Festive music started playing (probably Wizzard or Slade) and mysterious lights with snowflake patterns flashed as the 'sleigh' made its way to the frozen north - all very magical for a 70s six year old. Finally the lights dimmed and the music stopped.
'Here we are kids - at the North Pole now!'said Mom excitedly.
We left the sleigh and made our way with the other kids to where Santa waited in his Grotto. My turn came and after asking me all the usual questions ( had I been a good boy etc) Santa asked me what would I like for Christmas?
What would I like indeed - a chopper bike? a Millenium Falcon? or even a Mr Frosty?
No - I wanted a bag of balloons (I was a cheap kid to run). I thanked Santa, picked my present (a plastic sword for whacking things with) and we made our way out of the magical grotto.
At age six, I vaguely wondered why when we left the North Pole there was no sleigh ride back, and why we stepped out into the hardware section of the Coop.
'Oh, it's all magic' Mom assured me (an answer I've often used with my own daughter).
In a recent chat about Christmases past, I mentioned to Mom about the Coop Santa and how I genuinely thought we'd travelled in a magic sleigh (that played Wizzard) along to the North Pole .
She seemed surprised. 'You actually thought it was real?'
Of course I did, you told me so, and adults would never lie to kids - would they?
Merry Christmas - fellow bloggers and all!
Saturday, 24 December 2011
Friday, 9 December 2011
Men of Israel
My daughter is playing a shepherd in her nursery's nativity play. At school I was never picked for a nativity - however, I did have a brief role in one biblical production...
‘Now boys, who wants to be an Egyptian soldier?’ Mrs Bonn scanned the class looking for recruits.
‘Me, Miss!’
A flurry of little hands, including my own quickly shot up.
‘Ok let’s see, two, four, six, you can all be soldiers; while the rest can play Israelite slaves.’
I wasn’t one of the six and groaned inwardly. Why couldn’t I be a soldier? You’d get to make an ace cardboard sword to hit people, and a shield you could keep. Being a slave couldn’t be much of a role surely. Still - at least I was one of the good guys.
That summer at primary school, two classes were to produce separate episodes of the Moses story. Mrs Bonn, our teacher, had decided to keep it simple and produce the ‘basket and bull rushes’ episode - a prelude to the later events. The main man was played by a rather tatty Tiny Tears doll and the roles of Pharaoh and the Hebrew ladies completed the cast.
We managed some brief rehearsals, and soon it was time to perform our play in front of the whole school.
Heave, heave, heave men of Israel!
With some trepidation, I shuffled onto the stage with the other ‘slaves’, dragging a large, imaginary block of stone. Our costume consisted of black PE shorts, and one of the soldiers followed carrying a lash made from paper streamers stuck to a kitchen roll tube. We also had our own slave’s chorus to sing.
We slave all day in the burning sun
An Israelite’s work is never done
Heave, heave....
Exit the slaves and enter the villainous Pharaoh, who uttered his infamous decree and despatched his dastardly soldiers to carry out his dirty work. In Monty Python fashion, the soldiers galloped onto the stage astride invisible horses, brandishing their swords menacingly as they searched out the infant Moses. However, the ever resourceful Hebrew ladies (girls do your stuff) were one step ahead, and hid our plastic friend in the safety of the tissue paper rushes. Our performance was finished, and the challenge was set for the other class to stage their play next week.
Their production was a grand affair, and featured glamorous costumes plus a host of extras. Like a Hollywood epic, as opposed to our BBC style budget offering. Moses was played by the annoyingly good looking kid, always picked for the heroic biblical roles, and we cut straight to the action. Having obtained freedom via a variety of nasty plagues, Moses now led the Israelites to freedom. Whilst Pharaoh (played charmingly by a girl), screamed out ‘Catch those Hebrew slaves!’ and personally headed the mighty Egyptian army (all four of them) in hot pursuit.
I watched and wondered how they would show the parting of the Red Sea; that would stump them I thought. However, this was the clever bit. As the Israelites reached the shore, Moses held his metre ruler (sorry, trusty staff) aloft and the waves duly parted. Four kids, hidden underneath two large blankets, (blue not red) scrambled in different directions to let them pass safely through. As the treacherous Egyptians tried to follow, they were engulfed in a tempest of blanket. For the final authentic touch you could see Pharaoh’s crown as it bobbed on the surface before disappearing.
I resisted the urge to jump up and rescue the pretty Pharaoh, and applauded along with the rest of the school. A glance at the faces of my class mates was enough to realize that our modest production had been well and truly outclassed.
‘Now boys, who wants to be an Egyptian soldier?’ Mrs Bonn scanned the class looking for recruits.
‘Me, Miss!’
A flurry of little hands, including my own quickly shot up.
‘Ok let’s see, two, four, six, you can all be soldiers; while the rest can play Israelite slaves.’
I wasn’t one of the six and groaned inwardly. Why couldn’t I be a soldier? You’d get to make an ace cardboard sword to hit people, and a shield you could keep. Being a slave couldn’t be much of a role surely. Still - at least I was one of the good guys.
That summer at primary school, two classes were to produce separate episodes of the Moses story. Mrs Bonn, our teacher, had decided to keep it simple and produce the ‘basket and bull rushes’ episode - a prelude to the later events. The main man was played by a rather tatty Tiny Tears doll and the roles of Pharaoh and the Hebrew ladies completed the cast.
We managed some brief rehearsals, and soon it was time to perform our play in front of the whole school.
Heave, heave, heave men of Israel!
With some trepidation, I shuffled onto the stage with the other ‘slaves’, dragging a large, imaginary block of stone. Our costume consisted of black PE shorts, and one of the soldiers followed carrying a lash made from paper streamers stuck to a kitchen roll tube. We also had our own slave’s chorus to sing.
We slave all day in the burning sun
An Israelite’s work is never done
Heave, heave....
Exit the slaves and enter the villainous Pharaoh, who uttered his infamous decree and despatched his dastardly soldiers to carry out his dirty work. In Monty Python fashion, the soldiers galloped onto the stage astride invisible horses, brandishing their swords menacingly as they searched out the infant Moses. However, the ever resourceful Hebrew ladies (girls do your stuff) were one step ahead, and hid our plastic friend in the safety of the tissue paper rushes. Our performance was finished, and the challenge was set for the other class to stage their play next week.
Their production was a grand affair, and featured glamorous costumes plus a host of extras. Like a Hollywood epic, as opposed to our BBC style budget offering. Moses was played by the annoyingly good looking kid, always picked for the heroic biblical roles, and we cut straight to the action. Having obtained freedom via a variety of nasty plagues, Moses now led the Israelites to freedom. Whilst Pharaoh (played charmingly by a girl), screamed out ‘Catch those Hebrew slaves!’ and personally headed the mighty Egyptian army (all four of them) in hot pursuit.
I watched and wondered how they would show the parting of the Red Sea; that would stump them I thought. However, this was the clever bit. As the Israelites reached the shore, Moses held his metre ruler (sorry, trusty staff) aloft and the waves duly parted. Four kids, hidden underneath two large blankets, (blue not red) scrambled in different directions to let them pass safely through. As the treacherous Egyptians tried to follow, they were engulfed in a tempest of blanket. For the final authentic touch you could see Pharaoh’s crown as it bobbed on the surface before disappearing.
I resisted the urge to jump up and rescue the pretty Pharaoh, and applauded along with the rest of the school. A glance at the faces of my class mates was enough to realize that our modest production had been well and truly outclassed.
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