Tis the season…

On a recent walk, during the break between overeating at Thanksgiving and Christmas, my wife Kim and I visited a strip mall that was and is once again occasionally in my life. Kiddy corner from Michigan City’s large, lofty water tower. That structure was Robin’s egg blue for years but was painted white years ago. A half dozen stores made up “Eastgate Plaza,” and that was a big part of my youth.

Before the Walmarts and Meijers came along, my family went here at least weekly. West to the east was a grocery store, Hooks Drug store, Harvey’s Dime Store, and I think a bakery and dry cleaners. On the east side was a bank, once called First Merchants and now Horizon Bank.

Sometime around the age of eight, my parents had a brilliant idea to help me learn banking. I was to establish a Christmas Club. Since I often accompanied my mom to the grocery store (called National first and later K and M), we were there. I went to try to get comic books, which I collected in the sixties and my mom GAVE AWAY. Errrrrrrrrrrrrr. That’s another story.

We would walk under the covered sidewalk out of the elements, and I would have some paper or booklet and probably deposit a dollar a week or the like. All good. The pain came in December.

I confess I was an only child, and my family spoiled the shit out of me. I got A LOT of stuff, it was great. This was my time to give, not receive. My dad came from a family of seven, my mom three, but we rarely saw one aunt and uncle. My dad had a nephew ten months older, it happens, and with his wife, I’m adding two more. This meant I had to buy gifts for sixteen aunts and uncles, small, cute offerings. The presents were very stereotypically gender driven: hardware for the guys and housewares for the girls.

At first, it was somewhat fun. Mom would help me with small gifts for the aunts, dad assisted me with the uncles. These were $1-2 items, I only had $50. I was then taught to wrap them by my mom which was hopeless. I was given a D in art in the seventh grade, you can see what we’re working with here. I despise gift wrapping to this day. No skill set + a lack of patience = pathetic. What-ever.

We did this year after year. Since they gave me Christmas card envelopes with an oval hole in the card with Abe Lincoln and maybe Alexander Hamilton later peering out at me, it was all good. At some point, I noticed my cousins didn’t have to buy anyone anything, and I think I began to complain. That’s what we spoiled brats do, and sometime in my teenage years I was spared this task (annoyance) and I still got my envelopes until I became too old.

The first Christmas Club account was developed in Carlisle, Pennsylvania in 1909. They peaked in the 1960s and 1970s- just my luck. I was surprised to learn that they still exist today. It’s a little late for this year, but moms and dads can get the kids involved for 2024, just like I did. 😆