Merry Christmas: Memory Lane

My brother Philo sledding in the snow

.I remember Christmas in Connecticut. White snow, picket fence, fire in the chimney. Stockings hung neatly in a row. When I was a kid we used to have the perfect Christmas. Back in around 1959 or 1960. We lived in a prosperous home.

My mother would drive my step-father the Marquis to the train every morning. He worked in New York, at CBS back in the old days.  Television was good money. There was a Christmas tree and presents. We even got Christmas presents from our grandparents in Hollywood. Life was good.

Philo, Pierre, Mike, Wendy

We were the three musketeers, my brothers Philo and Jean-Pierre, and I. My sister Wendy was our nemesis, the wicked witch of the west.

Cowboys and Indians

In this photo, I am the great white hunter and these are my black african pygmies. We're planning our next adventure, perhaps in Angkor Wat. In those days, we didn't have iPads or cellphones, so we had to make up our own stories. As they grew older, the hunted became the hunters and got the better of me. But back then I was the boss.

Cadger in California

Of course no gang is complete without a trusty dog. This is our dog Cadger in California. He was our second basset hound. Cadger is a cockney word for "vagabond, beggar, or mendicant." Cadger was a humble mendicant of table scraps from Malibu to the Pacific Palisades back in the 60s. Actually this was our 3rd dog. Cadger's predecessor was also a basset hound, back in the Connecticut days.

Noel

Noel was Cadger's predecessor. She came at Christmas. In those days, dogs chased cars, and Noel was a car-chaser who gave her life in the pursuit of automobiles. But we had a lot of fun in the snow before that.

Ingo's Grave

Before Noel was Ingo. I took special care of Ingo. There's no photos of Ingo. Ingo was a boxer. My father named our dog after Ingamar Johanssen. For you boxing fans, Ingamar Johanssen was a Swedish Boxer who defeated Floyd Patterson. He was Heavyweight Champ of the world for about 3 months, before Patterson won the title back. After Patterson knocked his lights out, Ingamar was never heard of again. So, not such a good boxer. Our dog wasn't a great boxer either, but we loved him so much we made a special grave site for him and visited him on the 4th of July with an american flag. My brothers, as ever, accompanied me in the ceremony.

December always brings me back to thoughts of the White Christmases we spent in Connecticut. 

My sister and I with mother in the snows of Connecticut, 1950s.

It's strange to look back and reflect on all the snows that have passed since then.But whenever I think of Christmas, my thoughts turn to Connecticut in the 1960s and my brothers, and the good times we had playing in the snow.

Merry Christmas Everybody!