Products of a simpler age, the two little Kogan boys dreamt November and December dreams of simple things: of bats and balls, yo-yos, red wagons, sleds, cap guns . . . toys and games.
Christmas mornings would arrive and a couple of these dreams would always be fulfilled. But they came with a price. For each toy or game we received, we also were forced to suffer the pain of opening “presents” that were actually such hideous necessities as underpants or socks.
Our parents were decent, loving and smart but also seemed to be operating on the theory that giving us only toys and games might forever warp our view of the world: Life is not all fun and games. It’s also socks and shoes.
Such a message was lost on us. But we could always tell what pals had been given too stern a lesson, a Christmas of nothing but practical items.
Ashen-faced they would emerge from their homes.
One year, as I played with a new, red sled, a boy named Kenny Roper walked from his house, eyes downcast, slender shoulders slumped.
“How bad was it?” I asked.
“Bad,” he said. “Real bad.”
I held my breath.
“Handkerchiefs,” he said, tears welling. “Handkerchiefs and three white T-shirts.”
One year–the memory remains like an old scar–I encountered a wrapped object so strangely (but intriguingly) shaped that I bypassed the wrapped gift that was so obviously a baseball bat and grabbed the oddly shaped gift. It was a frying pan.
I looked at my mother with what must have been a mixture of confusion and pain. The pan, she explained, was the result of my having recently developed a fondness for scrambled eggs.
“Now you can make them yourself,” she said.
I quickly dove into the pile of packages under the tree in search of something slightly more amusing.
I found something, of course, but it, like all the other toys and games of my youth, has vanished from my life. But that frying pan is still in my possession. Does that mean practical gifts are more meaningful than toys and games?
You know that’s not true.
In a book called “Spin Again” (Chronicle, $16.95), which takes a look at popular board games of the 1950s and ’60s, authors Rick Polizzi and Fred Schaefer argue that, “In many ways, our childhoods are defined by the games we played. There is a certain camaraderie present when we stumble onto someone who owned and played the same games we did.”
I can’t remember the last time I got into a conversation with someone about my first checkers set, but the authors have a good point: Toys and games are important.
The problem for many parents these days is that the sheer number of toys and games available–and loudly requested–overwhelms them and forces many into a terrible “more is better” holiday spending spree, lest the little ones be disappointed.
“One year my 7-year-old actually came home after visiting a friend on Christmas afternoon and said, `Why did (her friend) Sarah get nine presents when I only got seven,” says Marcia Lanctot, the mother of three girls. “It didn’t matter what the presents were. It was all numbers. Sarah got more. That was that. How sad.”
Beleaguered and confused, many adults fondly say, “Christmas was such a simpler observance in the past. Children often would receive only a few presents. But the gift-giving tradition has escalated over the years.” Now, some fear that children are learning greed from the ever-growing mound of gifts under the family trees.
“I have a hard time dealing with the gift-giving pressure,” said Jennifer Swanton, a 37-year-old mother of four from Northfield, as she walked the aisles of a suburban toy store. “It starts in early November and doesn’t stop. ‘Tis the season to be jolly? Not anymore. ‘Tis the season of `Gimme, gimme, gimme!’ “
But she–and you–can’t really blame today’s children for their desires. It is estimated that America’s kids watch something in the alarming neighborhood of 40,000 TV commercials a year. Advertising is a manipulative medium, and kids are the most vulnerable targets.
Which makes it difficult for parents (and aunts and uncles, grandparents and family friends) to chose appropriate gifts.
I recently visited a large suburban toy store–part of a famous chain–and chatted with some people as they went about the business (terribly early for my taste) of shopping for Christmas presents.
“Toys are essential,” said Sandra Montenegro, mother of a 6-year-old boy. “But getting the right one is more than a headache. Look at all this. What are there here, a thousand different toys and games? What is the right thing to buy?”
Nearby, a fellow named Oscar Hammerman was looking over a selection of toy soldiers.
“I can’t get these,” he said. “Not hip enough.”
Toys and games should be, on one important level, as much fun for adults on the buying end as for children on the opening end.
Harry and Martha Burrows are the parents of a 9-year-old named Evan. They also own and operate a charming toy store at 4740 N. Lincoln Ave. (773-334-4445) called Timeless Toys. It is a specialty store, not a toy supermarket. Harry Burrows has an aversion to toys that need batteries, stocking, he says, “just a few.” The store is colorfully cramped with puppets, books, costumes, stuffed animals, mobiles, red wagons, train sets and all sorts of toys and games.
We asked Martha Burrows to explain the importance of toys.
“They are important, essential, really,” she said. “But of course parents get confused. My advice is to buy something that you can play with your children, or something that is fun and engaging for yourself. Playing cooperative games you’ll learn a lot about your kids and some new things about yourself.
“Or you might give a toy or game that you played with and enjoyed as a child. Such a gift will be endowed with something special, a memory of your own joy and pleasure.”
What about the tradition of giving practical gifts?
“I have been known to give underwear,” she says, laughing. “I think for many people, it’s often a matter of economics. They want to have more gifts under the tree and they can’t afford to buy just toys and games.”
Is there any such thing as a perfect gift?
“Sometimes it’s good to give something not because it appeals to you but just because your child wants it,” she says. “I’m not saying you should indulge every request, but once in a while it’s important for a child to learn that, yes, dreams can come true.”
