Bittersweet: jingle bells and broken hearts

Why is everything so bittersweet this time of year? This Glade commercial from 2010 caused great hilarity in its day, when my grandkids Caitlin and Ryan "acted out" the cookies coming to life and Santa flying through the air. 

I was, to be honest, enchanted with this ad, and was delighted to find it again on (of course) YouTube. But THEN, also of course, me being me, I had to try to find the lovely Christmas music in the background, which is really what made it magical. 

I remember I looked it up in 2010, but didn't save it, so it was back to the YouTube archives again to try to figure out what it's called. And here it is: Sleigh Ride (also known as Winter Night) by Frederick Delius. Just a lovely little slice of mid-winter spice.

It's bittersweet because everything changed after that, as everything does. Caitlin is now 20 years old, and Ryan is 17 - young adults with career aspirations, relationships, lives. Hey, it was bad enough when the kids grew up and there were no more hilarious times rolling around on the floor at Christmas. Now there's the echo of that mournful sense of loss - while at the same time, immense pride and joy in all that they have become. 

Do jingle bells ring in a minor key?

😻WRAP your CAT for CHRISTMAS!😻

An all-time YouTube classic, from back in the days when YouTube was all about sharing the fun. This cat must enjoy the sensation of being swaddled, but given the fact most cats love to cram their bodies into tight spaces (my 16-pounder tries to squeeze into a shoebox), it might not be as remarkable as it looks. I think getting kitty to lie down on the paper and stay there would be the easy part. They don't show the cat being released from his paper bondage, but it might be cute to plunk him under the tree like that just as everyone is coming down the stairs on Christmas morning.

Visit Margaret's Amazon Author Page!

WHY is there a SQUIRREL in It's a Wonderful Life?

This is an annual mystery which I have never solved. WHY is there a squirrel in the middle of It's a Wonderful Life? Uncle Billy has a pet crow which appears from time to time, but this squirrel seems to have come out of nowhere. It's a well-trained squirrel, if not a compassionate one, as it clings to Uncle BIlly's arm while he sobs his heart out. The story all ends well, of course - but nobody talks about what happened to the squirrel.

🎅BADLY-ANIMATED (but pretty!) CHRISTMAS CARD🎄

This started out life as a gif, got filed away, and has been resurrected on YouTube. It's incredibly cheesy, but that's part of its charm. The horses appearing and disappearing is both lame and magical. 

🎅🙄SMOKING SANTA!😳🎅

It wouldn't be Christmas without bizarre Santas smoking pipes.This is from an incredibly weird Christmas puppet show from the 1950s. 

Robins 'n Elves 'n Holly 'n Robins 'n Stuff

  

Alternative lifestyles: the gingerbread house revisited

Who says the roof has to be pointy? This one might be harder to construct than it looks, however. It has a certain house-of-cards look to it. But it's fine if you REALLY like graham crackers, and want to do it on the cheap.

A pizza house! Or pizza hut, or whatever you want to call it. But you'd have to eat it pretty quickly, as it wouldn't do well at room temperature.

I am not sure, but I think the roof is made of shredded wheat. It might have been more effective to use frosted Mini Wheats, but who am I to argue?

Milk carton house! You can even see the carton on the inside. How innovative - just pull the graham crackers off and eat them. 

I saw a car like this once, with all sorts of tchotchkes (?) on the outside. You could spend days picking the candy off this one and eating it before you got down to gingerbread. 

Pretzel-roofed house, with jellybean and gumdrop walls and marshmallows stuffed into the door. I think. The roof is topped with M & Ms.

Cookie house! Now this might really be good. Chocolate and pretzels and some sort of candy feature here. Gingerbread is crap anyway, like roofing tiles, so this is much more edible.

A low-lying graham cracker bungalow. Graham crackers being a solid, yet lightweight building material. Note the yard covered in coconut snow.

Now this is interesting: pecan roof, pine nuts on the sides, and some sort of edible walkway - granola, maybe? The underlay seems to be cream cheese, but I don't know how the whole thing is put together/held up. I hope those green things aren't brussels sprouts.

TOTAL pretzel house! Or thin breadsticks? I see Chiclets in the windows, masses of jellybeans for the chimney. This is stolen (stollen?) from the Gingerbread Journal, but right now I don't give two hoots. It's Christmas, so lay off.

Matzoh house! Very small, but nice, and you could consume it in one sitting with a cup of tea.

SQUIRREL!!

Harold Lloyd, the Christmas fanatic

When I began to research Harold Lloyd to write my novel The Glass Character, there was almost nothing about him on the internet. The photos were tiny, grainy old black-and-white things, likely scanned out of books. Believe me when I say, there were hardly any books about Harold, let alone novels (and mine is the only one I know about, though the reading public doesn't even seem to know that). 

At any rate, this set of family photos is kind of nice. This one depicts, left to right, a grinning Harold, his devastatingly handsome son Harold Jr. (a. k.a. Duke, or as he was familiarly know, Dukie), and the lovely Mildred Davis. The three family cocker spaniels figure large in this, BUT - what about that Christmas tree? It looks nothing like the pregnant-looking, ornament-stuffed, legendary tree he became known for. But knowing Harold, he'd have trees all over the place, so this is likely not the main one.

This is more like it, though the tree is still in a state of evolution (you can actually see a bit of the branches). I don't know who the two people on the right are - family friends, likely. The little girl in Harold's lap is his granddaughter Suzanne, now the keeper of the Lloyd legend. 

Mildred looks lovely in this, as usual. Again, I wonder if this could be the main tree. The dogs are simply gorgeous.

Here we have the tree in all its bulging glory. The tall man in back is family friend and Lloyd bit player Roy Brooks, who's in my novel, with Dukie and Suzanne and Mom. 

If I am cracked down upon for daring to share these photos (which are reproduced many thousands of times on Pinterest, Twitter, and countless other pages), no one will be surprised. It is well-nigh impossible to find the provenance of internet images, though I have squeezed the Google and TinEye reverse image sites to no avail. It's my fate to be made an example of,  I guess, though I have to take consolation in loving Harold and being fascinated with him for all these years. He's the reason for the season.

And he belongs to everyone. Remember that.

Every day is Christmas: Harold Lloyd's Christmas tree

Harold Lloyd was a Christmas fanatic. He was a fanatic about a lot of things, including painting, handball, microscopy, the Shriners, and beautiful women with no tops on. But let's stick to the Christmas tree for now.

When he was a boy, growing up dirt-poor in Nebraska, they probably had something - you'd have to be pretty impoverished not to be able to cut something down in the woods, drag it home and decorate it with some paper garlands and strings of popcorn.

But once he was in the chips, Christmas took on a whole new meaning.

I sometimes get a mental image of Harold rolling around in dollar bills and throwing them up in the air, not because he was greedy (though he was apparently a lousy tipper), but because it was fun to have money at last.

Never again would the family have to skip out in the night to avoid paying rent that they didn't have.

As you can see here, some of these ornaments were absolutely huge. Most were handmade European things that remind me of Faberge eggs. Over the years he amassed an incredible 10,000 ornaments (hard to believe, but this is Harold Lloyd, folks, and he never did things by halves), most of which were kept in a vault somewhere in his huge estate, Greenacres.

It took weeks for him to decorate this thing, which was constructed from three gigantic fir trees lashed together. Then one year when he was about to dis-assemble it, he decided, ah, hell, isn't it really Christmas all year long? So the tree stayed up.

This pose with a red-jacketed Harold is obviously an earlier incarnation because you can still see parts of the tree. It doesn't have that bulged-out/pregnant/I-think-I'm-going-to-explode look it took on in later years.

In fact, this tree looks really nice to me. Has a nice shape, a nice sparkle, and TONS of ornaments already. But Harold never knew when to stop.

The little girl in the red pajamas is Harold's granddaughter, Suzanne, now keeper of the Lloyd legend. Due to family circumstances, Harold was like a father to her, and it must've been fun to have a grandfather like that, even if he was hard to keep up with. This surely must have been taken in the middle of the decorating frenzy, given the appearance of the tree in the first photo.

It always strikes me that the great geniuses of the world are little boys who never grow up. They retain that mental flexibility and ability to dream and actualize those dreams without adult restraints. They also retain temperament and a degree of childishness, which Harold did. He had a hairtrigger temper by all accounts -  I learned that from Kevin Brownlow's superb documentary Harold Lloyd: The Third Genius, a major source of information for my research, and it was Harold's brother-in-law who said it. So I'm not just making up stories. He really did have flaws. I say this because I sometimes wonder if I somehow inadvertently pissed off someone in the Lloyd family by portraying him as less than perfect in my book. At any rate, the silence from them has been deafening. But as I've said before, Kevin Brownlow has been wonderful to me, so maybe I'd better be happy with that.

It's still possible to buy some of those 10,000 ornaments today. In fact, they're listed on eBay right now, eight ornaments for $2500.00 USD.  That's uh, three hundred and. . . that's lotsa money per ornament. Eight would be about enough for my tree.

POST-POST POST: As you well know, Wikipedia is my Bible, especially when I don't feel like plodding through a dozen web sites for information which may or may not be right. It's a sad and poignant story, what happened to Harold's estate after he died in 1971. The upkeep on the gargantuan place was basically unworkable. The huge lot had to be subdivided and sold off in parcels in the '70s, but the house still sits on top of the hill in Benedict Canyon, somewhat updated from its falling-down days. It's nice to know it's still there and being looked after.

Several movies were shot at Greenacres in the '70s, including a Lylah Clare-ish, Sunset Boulevard-esque, cheesy TV movie called Death at Love House with Robert Wagner in it (Harold's close friend), but the video clips I could find were so Godawful I could not include them here. I couldn't even make a decent 3-second gif.

History after Lloyd's death

Plans for preservation and a museum





Christmas tree in 1974

Lloyd left his Benedict Canyon estate to the "benefit of the public at large" with instructions that it be used "as an educational facility and museum for research into the history of the motion picture in the United States." For a few years the home was open to public tours, but financial and legal obstacles prevented the estate from creating the motion picture museum that Lloyd had intended. Among other things, neighboring homeowners in the wealthy community were opposed to the creation of a museum hosting parties and attracting busloads of tourists.

In October 1972, the Los Angeles Times visited the property and noted that it had "the feel of Sunset Boulevard," bringing to mind the line spoken by the young writer when he first visits Norma Desmond's home: "It was the kind of place that crazy movie people built in the crazy 20s." The house appeared to visitors in the 1970s to be frozen in time at 1929. One writer noted that nothing had been moved or replaced, changed, or modernized, from the books in the library to the appliances in the kitchen and the fixtures in the bathrooms. 

Noted columnist Jack Smith visited the estate in 1973 and wrote that "time stood still", as Lloyd's clothes still hung in his closet, and the master bedroom and living room "looked like a set for a movie of the 1930s." A Renaissance tapestry presented to Lloyd as a housewarming gift by Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks was still hanging in the hallway.

The house also had Lloyd's permanent Christmas tree loaded with ornaments at the end of a long sitting room. Jack Smith described the tree as follows:

"At the end of the room, dominating it like some great Athena in a Greek temple, stood the most fantastic Christmas tree I had ever seen. It reached the ceiling, a great, bulbous mass of colored glass baubles, some of them as big as pumpkins, clustered together like gaudy jewels in some monstrous piece of costume jewelry."

POST-POST: I just thought of something else. As usual! Somewhere, I know not where, I read in my research that there was a TV special called Citizen Lloyd which aired shortly after Harold's death. There was scant information about this, but I can't help but see the title as an allusion to Citizen Kane and Xanadu, the great echoing mausoleum inhabited by Charles Foster Kane. Parallels have also been drawn to Sunset Boulevard with its algae-choked swimming pool and demented German manservant with the duelling scar. 

Though Harold never employed Eric von Stroheim to look after the place, there is an eerieness to all this. Perhaps it's Stroheim's ghost that haunts Greenacres. I know Annette Lloyd got to tour the place at some point, and I never will, though Death at Love House gave me a rather macabre glimpse of it. It is, indeed, frozen in time, the furniture threadbare, the swimming pools brimming with scum.

A few years from now, I have a feeling "someone" will make a movie about Harold Lloyd, and it will have all my ideas in it. There are enough copies of The Glass Character circulating, all of which seemed to fall into the Grand Canyon without an echo. 

But I wonder what happened to that TV special, if someone still has a tape of it moldering in their basement and will some day decide to put it on YouTube.

Stranger things have happened. But not much.

The Glass Character: a novel by Margaret Gunning

Maui kitchen: view from the window

Up to now I haven't even posted any pictures from our vacation in Maui. We got back shortly before  Christmas, and it was the biggest bummer. . . I mean, to have to suddenly get myself in some kind of mood for holly-jollity, when all I'd been doing was soaking my brains in guava and turning them into a quivering green jelly. I'd gotten into "oh, I'll do it after Hawaii" mode, leaving stuff undone, which is not my usual compulsive way. And we were hosting this year, doing the turkey, etc. etc. So things had piled up nastily, making for a rough homecoming. It's not that I didn't want to be home. I just wanted QUIET, and that's not what you get at Christmas. I wasn't ready for something I didn't want to be ready for to begin with. It was not dread so much as total disorientation, the bends I usually get after going away, only worse. I did not even have time to look at any of the hundred or so videos I took, or the photos Bill took, which I still haven't seen.

So today. . . still feeling fried, but having survived Christmas and Boxing Day and a few more days after that, I started looking at my trove. I published this one mainly because of the incredible bird song on it, along with audible yelling and arguing among the staff working for the condo. I stood in the kitchen and shot it out the window when the birds were at their noisy peak. I make an appearance in this, looking just dreadful, with no makeup on and bedroom hair. Oh well. Does it matter, in sweet Hawaii? No, it does not. It's a no-bra zone, as a friend of mine once said. This was a sentimental journey for us, the fifth time we've gone to the same part of Maui (Kihei), and we were amazed at how little it had changed, even down to the restaurants and menus (Aloha Lunch Plate: coconut prawns by the ocean!). But it was bittersweet, because we know we'll never be back. Between health issues (for both of us) and money issues (check), we just can't do holidays like that any more. And the cat was so heavily traumatized by being boarded (even in a luxury cat hotel) that we can't imagine putting him through that again. 

I am likely to post at least a few of the slew of videos, once I get them figured out. I hate people posting their expensive holiday videos, wagging their asses at me, so this is my revenge.

Holly Jolly!

Victorian Christmas cards: deeply bizarre