Hard Times Hanukah

About an hour and a half drive from my home lies a small wooden framed house with an historic past. Now housing the "Walton Mountain Museum", the house was once home to the real John Boy and the rest of the Walton clan. If you were alive in the 1970's or watch any of the retro TV channels, you know of this poor, close knit family who struggled through the Great Depression with a gritty determination and unwavering ethics.

Last week I overheard some co-workers reminiscing about "Walton-like" Christmas's when times were tough for their families and gifts were sparse and often home-made. Everyone was very respectful of each others stories and listened intently as the heart-warming tales unwound. As I listened to these holiday anecdotes I thought "Why don't I have any tear-rendering Hanukah stories?" There are many reasons for this, which are addressed in the text below.

1. Scheduling

Maybe it's me, but Hanukah seems to be around the December time frame but never on the same days from year to year. Do they spin a big wheel in Tel Aviv every year to determine the exact dates for Jewish holidays? Each year someone at work stops me in the hall and wishes me a "Happy Hanukah" much to my surprise. I never know when it is, I have to hear about it from a gentile who has spotted it on his Garfield calendar that morning. Lets make a real date and stick to it. While we are at it let's settle on a spelling as well. One word meaning the same thing should not have multiple spelling options. It's confusing to me, much less the goyem.

2. The Eight Day Myth

Non-Jews in the South are under the mistaken impression that Jewish children receive a lavish gift each and every day during the Festival of Lights, a myth perpetuate as often as asked. "Yeah, when I was eight I got a solid gold calf on the first day and Corvette filled with hookers on the second day." However, I am thinking of about taking the Walton road on the next go around. Something like "The first day I got a brand new sock and on the second day I got the other sock." I need to contribute something to the discussion in the hallway outside of my door don't I?

3. Time honored One-Ups-manship

Jewish people, in general, struggle when listening to another person's hard luck story. Many (and I include myself) are simply waiting for the tale-spinner to draw a quick breath so they can cut in with their even more horrible story. My mother and her friends were experts in this field. Once, I witnessed a group of Mom's cronies top each other on ambulance experiences. Each story stretched the bounds of the human imagination and each account was more excessive than the last. How can I join in on the discussion when I am ethnically compelled to dominate the forum with with yarns which are specifically designed to minimize any and all stories previously told?

4. Limited Memory

For the life of me, I cannot remember a specific Hanukah in my life. Years melt into years like some over-worked shamus. I remember getting socks, pants, toys and a stereo one year, but nothing more than that. I wonder if my sisters have any Hanukah memories?

Has anyone out there had a Walton's-like Hanukah? Maybe you made a dreidel out of some hardened matzoah balls or your dad fired up the boiler for eight days in a rare moment of Hanukah spirit. Did Judah Maccabi visit your home with a bag full of pants that were one size too big, hoping that you would grow into them?

I am in need of Hanukah memories and I don't mind stealing from others.