The Christmas Ball

Mid-Fifties Victoria College
They say in spring a young person’s fancies turn to thoughts of love, but Christmas does it so much better

....by D. Grant DeMan

Lainey and I were freshmen. I knew we’d be parting when she left next spring, so I held her close while Elvis crooned, “...Hold my hand, stand beside me, I’m counting on you.” Twinkling lights rendered the Victoria College ballroom duskily romantic. Heaven? You bet! At the age of nineteen celebrating Christmas with friends and family while slow-dancing the most beautiful angel in the universe, a guy is bound straight over the stars on a staircase of celestial diamonds. Bells, harps and....

“OOooooh!” I breathed in her ear. Saxes groaned down deep. So fine, so fine.

“MMMM...” She whispered, crushing her corsage against my charcoal black lapel and pink carnation boutonnière. “Merry merry Christmas Baby....” The song lingers still. A scent of Chanel.

The preceding weeks had not been quite so pleasant. First there was the problem of money. How to scrape up sufficient moolah to buy a few presents, get my clothes cleaned and -- well a guy can’t date without flowers, now can he? At least a corsage for my Honey, and silver ear rings perhaps? My sister Marg’s boyfriend had a car so we could double. Transportation solved!

A light bulb flashed in the upper story: “Aha!” I said to myself, “I’ll use the old Hosiery Kit from last year.” And so out on the street I went, door-to-door, selling Bronsen’s No-Run-No-Tear Nylons.

It wasn’t exactly a leadpipe cinch, but most folks were in a squandering mode, and pretty full of Old Noel cheer when they opened the door and heard my opening ballyhoo, “Oh, do you have this trouble too?” and read my business card: “Tired of runs and tears in your nylons. Let us put an end to your worries!”

“What in the world,” exclaimed the first customer, a youngish housewife wearing a flowered housecoat.

“See lady, I can scratch it, tear it and stretch it outa shape.” Here I did the most unbearable things to the stocking I had drawn from my pocket. “It’s never never gonna wear out, and should anything happen like you burn it with your cigarette, just send in for a free new pair. Guaranteed forever. Same stuff Superman’s costume is made from!” Here I stomped on it. That always set the mood and got a few laughs.

“My gosh, that is really something you got there. Lemme see!” They nearly always grabbed it from my hands, and knowing a sale was cooking, I reached for the order book. “How much do they cost?”

“Just five ninety five for three indestructible pairs, Ma’am. Can ya use six pairs while I’m here?”

“Well. Okay. I’ll give mom a pair for Christmas.”

“Maybe you’d like nine. Give them out to more friends. Birthdays?”

“Okay. How do we do this?”

“You give me two dollars for each set as a down payment, then they collect COD for the rest. Okay? What sizes and deniers do you prefer?” Thus I wrote orders and got sufficient money to live a little for the holidays. Just one of my sidelines.

That evening I went out with the Guys, Thursday being always “boys night out” in those days. Usually we cruised for Townie Babes but tonight was different and somehow we all wound up at Jimmy Little’s on Cook Street. Now you must understand that Jimmy sold everything in the whole wide world, and what he didn’t have in the store he got for you - no questions asked nor answered. His place featured the largest bank of Bingo and Horse Racing pinballs in the world, and they were not there just for fun, if you get my drift, “Wink, wink...nudge, nudge.” We played a little but really got goofy over the Christmas toys.

I picked up a marvelous cap-machine gun, known as a Burp Gun. “When I was little we never had such things,” I told my friend Jon Magwood. “Even if they made them we never could afford ‘em.” I wound up the toy and pulled the trigger feeling the movement, put it back and bought Lainey silver earrings.

Finally the night of the Christmas Prom arrived. Being with Lainey was like floating over the light-spangled city. Kisses warm and melty as toasty marshmallows. With our crowd we went to the Blue Tango then home to gather around the tree and present opening. You should have seen the eyes of Jon and the guys as I opened theirs. Yep, there it was my wonderful Burp Gun, and we all had a go mowing down the enemy. A tear comes even now when I think of Jon’s kindness. Even if it was a joke.

The most beautiful girl wearing my ear rings, a loving family, thoughtful humorous friends. What more could a freshman ever wish for? That Christmas of fifty-five became this Memory Collector’s treasure.

You betcha! Merry Christmas Baby.