"Father Christmas" - 4

--------------- Forwarded Message ---------------



From: 	Lincoln Rd. McHenry, IL, 71222,645

To: 	FetterNet

Date: 	Sat, Nov 13, 1993, 16:26



RE: 	"Father Christmas" - 4



        Out of the car... into the house... a stampede down the stairs...

there she was... smack in the middle of our basement -- the brand new

shiny... whoa!... look again... no shiny, sleek, new Silver Bullet zipping

around the tracks. We had a greasy, old, tired locomotive... going

nowhere. "Well, turn it on! Turn it on!" Kent grabbed the transformer knob

and moved it to - ON. Nothing... no wait... it's warming up... oh no...

that smell again... "turn it off!" We all looked up at dad. "Sons, I tried

my best... I got this deal from a guy... there's an extra locomotive...

and lots of trees and scenary... and there's a transformer problem... but,

we can" -- Kent broke him off, "Dad, dad, don't worry. We wanted a train

and we got a train. We know you'll get it working. Plus, look at all of

that extra track that Dave is playing with. We'll get this train going

around the whole darn basement!" "Yeah, dad! Yeah, mom! Yeah Christmas!"



        Without ever actually putting it into words, our parents had

taught us this axiom:  The most deprived children in the world are the

ones that get everything they want. Those kids never get to experience the

best part of a Christmas present - anticipation. They never get a "treat"

because they always get what they want. We could pick up a Christmas

catalogue and "dream". A deprived kid was left with "placing an order". We

had our special "precious" toys. Deprived kids just had a "whole bunch" of

everything.



        By the time Dennis and Jeff got the Three Wise men within sight

of the creche, it was time to "disassemble" our aluminum tree.

Disassembling was easy. Now, how do we get these "poofed out" branches

back into these 4 tiny cartons? Any normal "handy man type" guy would

simply take a couple of 2 by 4's, nail them together, drill some holes,

and then stand the "poofed out" branches into these holding stands and

place them in the attic with a plastic cover over the whole lot. Well, no

one ever found Ken Gerdes' name and the term "handy man" in the same

sentence until this sentence. Our dad was convinced that we could get

these branches folded back into their original tightly bound state. Then

we could stuff them into the cartons the Japanese had shipped them out in.



        We spent another afternoon totally cutting up our fingers and

hands. "ouch... ooohh... ouch... damn #@$%@#g tree!" Thanks to shear

perseverance and a high tolerance for pain we were able to retro-fit our

"space age" tree back. While Roger and Dennis held the ladder, dad had me

hand him each box one at a time. He reached into the attic opening and

carefully stacked them on the edge of the opening. "Uumm, dad, do you know

your placing these boxes on the edge?" "Pipe down, just pipe down! Hand me

that last box!" As he topped the pile off with box #4.. something terrible

happened... somehow, someway... the boxes came tumbling down! The air was

full of "silver arrows"! We all ran for cover. When the smoke cleared

twisted and bent silver branches were strewn everywhere. Dad jumped off

the ladder and he --- absolutely lost it! He went temporarily "beserk". He

started ranting at Roger and me, "THROW IT OUT! THROW THE DAMN THING OUT!

THROW IT OUT!" "But, dad, you said we would never have to buy another...."

"SHUT UP! THROW IT OUT! THROW IT OUT!" "Are you sure?" "THROW IT OUT!

THROW IT OUT! SO HELP ME, THROW IT OUT!" We looked to our mom for

guidance. She was laughing so hard, we thought that she might have the

baby right on the spot. She finally managed to tell us, "Do what he says.

Take the tree to the garbage. Also, take that goofy light contraption with

it." "Ok... ok... Just give us some time."



        By the time dinner rolled around everything had calmed down. We

had just sat down to the table, when Kent came bursting into the house.

"Dad, dad. You're not going to believe this. Someone threw an aluminum

tree, just like ours, into our garbage! You gotta go outside and look at

this!" As my dad's eyes began to glaze over again, mom grabbed Kent and

wisked him out of harms way. Then she gave Kent a blow by blow account of

the whole debacle.



        Even though we had thrown our aluminum beauty away, it actually

hung around for many years. The next December, dad noticed some nice

aluminum wreaths hanging around Mr. Baran's house and garage. "Hey, Baran,

where did you get those fancy wreaths?" "Funny you should ask, Ken. I

found a bunch of aluminum branches in your garbage last January, and

being a "handy man" type of guy, I twisted them into these beautiful

wreaths! Nice, huh?" "Yeah, they look really great... aarrgh."



        Oh, I almost forgot -- mom was carrying her and dad's 7th son. We

just missed getting our "Leap Baby". On February 27th, Louis George Gerdes

took his first peek at his loving, crazy, wonderful parents! Welcome to

our world.