I’m big on tradition, and tradition is big in December.
The holiday months mean Christmas-accented musicals and television specials, shows at the theater and parties. Especially parties.
For me, the first Christmas party of the season is held in Rochester. My aunt and uncle, Barb and Tim Howland of Lakeville — really, Conesus Lake — in 1978 started the tradition of renting a fireman’s hall in late fall and inviting everyone in for dinner and drinks. Everyone brought a dish to pass, beer and mixers were available at the bar and Santa Claus — my late Uncle Art Cosgriff during the early years — made an after-dinner appearance.
It’s pretty much the same today. My sister Joanne Fisher and I have been planning and organizing the big show since 1989, and we had 70 people in for the latest edition last Saturday night. It’s really our only big family reunion of the year, and all it takes is sending out notices, buying a couple deli platters and six dozen rolls and covering the firemen’s tables with Christmas wrapping paper.
This year, I took some video to show everyone what a good time we have. Some people in the family remain camera shy, but most are good sports. I put Joanne in focus and told her I was shooting for the blog. “Oh, nooooooo,” she said, right on cue.
To meet the family, click here.
During the five-hour assembly, I get a chance to screw around with the aforementioned Tim Howland and Uncle Jack Wilkin. Talked to bunches of cousins about careers, golf games, kids and the long-suffering Baltimore Orioles. After dinner, a representative from each family stands up and lets everyone know what folks in that particular branch have been doing during the past 11 months. My cousin Mackenzie Park, 20, delivered for my cousin Eileen’s group. Mackenzie — who introduces my video — mentioned she’s been dating a guy for the past nine months. “And it’s going ... awesome!” she said, with gusto. Kids today.
As I have inherited the mantle of Santa Claus from Uncle Art, I have drafted my cousin Laurie Bennett to play Mrs. Santa Claus and we are the late entertainment.
I guess it’s really a thrill for the small kids, who generally get Santa in two- or three-minute impersonal visits at shopping malls. Laurie and I put on our North Pole gear in an upstairs office, then stomp our feet on the floor to let kids downstairs know that visitors have arrived. We jingle bells and make our ways down the stairs to meet awestruck children and smirking adults.
We always lead the kids in a song — their choice is always “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” — we hand out presents and pose for pictures. The kids pull off my boots — Santa is always tired after flying into Irondequoit from the North Pole — and we answer assorted questions.
This year, we received the usual, wide-eyed stares. And something more: My cousin Greg Reese is with the Air Force in the Middle East, and his two young children were in the Santa corps this year. Near the end of the routine, young Jacob approached old St. Nick and earnestly said: “My dad’s overseas for a year. Can you bring him something Christmas Eve?”
I was touched by the kid’s concern, and thought it was pretty clever for him to give Santa an advance request. “He’s first on my list,” I told him. The lad was smiling the rest of the night.
After the kids had their gifts, Santa asked for Christmas cookies to feed reindeer waiting patiently on the roof of the St. Paul Exempt firemen’s club. Then it was back upstairs to the office, out of Santa stuff and back into civilian clothing. Strange that none of the kids have ever run outside to watch the “sleigh” take off for points north.
The family marches on. It’s nice to have a party, even just one a year, to keep everyone in touch.
Tradition, after all.
