the true meaning of christmas

oh, wow...are we doin' THIS again???
hmmm...what to say?
Oh, i got it...Greatest Christmas Ever...
Mine was 1989.
'89 and '90 are the Magic and Bird of my childhood years. Everything great happened then. Tim Burton's Batman, Bobby Brown, BBD, a momentus victory in the OMOS Christmas Tournament, first trip to Wrigley. If i actually turn out to be Daniel Stern and i find myself narrating the story of my life to no one in particular, '89 and '90 will represent the best seasons where a disproprortionate amount of the good episodes would come from. '89 and '90 are to me, like '87 was to members of the wu tang clan...it was my favorite shit, son.
I got gifts lavished on me that year, way more so than in other years. I have no idea why. I am not shrewd enough an economist to point to a certain trend as to why my usually somewhat cash strapped parents had more money than in years past. All i know was it was awesome. The highlight list looked like this...

Nintendo Game Boy...two colors, gray and green, no back light (if ya wanted to play that bitch, you better turn on a flood light!), battery life of ten minutes even when ya packed it full of recharged AAs, and TETRIS...calculators these days can do more to stimulate a child...i mean it, and honest to goodness calculator...but to my little troglodyte mind it was something akin to when the caveman invented the cigarette lighter...the greatest technical marvel of my epoch was now held in the palm of my grubby little hand!

Tecmo Bowl...at this young age, i thought myself to be quite the football mind. Little did i know that i was actually just a dork, and the lifelong trend that was being established here was not a commitment to the game of football, always giving my all, play like a champion today...poo, poo, poo, it was more establishing the tradition of my greatest moments in life being achieved in a venue where the only ones to bear witness are a throng of poorly drawn, barely animated drones who seem to not even be watching the game.

Nike Air Trainer SC...the ever famous "Bo Jackson"...we all saw the commercials, we all bear witness to what he did in the all star game, what he did to bozworth... he scaled walls, he hit one handed home runs, he ran over linebackers and away from corners, (unfortunately not away from the pesky bengals defense)bill brasky wishes he was Bo. And i rocked the same shoes as that guy. I fell in line with all the myriad kids who hoped that just by donning a pair of(metaphorical) Chuck Taylor's that my set shot and chest pass (again, metaphors) would be somehow crisper. Of course, that turned out to be wrong. I hesitate to even use the term "flame out" when associated with anything athletic i have ever done, simply because it implies that there was once a spark there. But the hundred plus beans that my folks laid out for those kicks...boy they sure helped prolong the lie. Rockin a pair of Bo's made you feel like you had to be athletic. Like his big giant self would be waiting to throttle you if he caught you eating a Big Mac or playing your new game boy in HIS shoes.

so there it is, gang...anybody wanna chime in? what we are lookin for here is best Christmas gifts ever...gotta be from the same year...if any of you queefs out there have any reasons for loving a particular Christmas that are NOT shallow and materlialistic ( "My first Christmas with my wife" or "our child was born"or "we saved a village of orphans"), then fuck you...just presents that rocked and why...save that shit story for your Charlie Brown friends, you blanket sucking, Linus-ass pantyliners.