Heart and Mind

Christmas Card Kids

When I was growing up, my family was way ahead of the times when it came to Christmas cards.

It's hard to imagine in this digital camera/desktop printer/Snapfish world, but there was a time when creating customized cards was not something your average person could accomplish.

But we had two things going for us that kept us from being "average people."

One, my father was an amateur-but-accomplished photograher. He had a dark room in his house and shot his own pictures, developed the film, made the prints, etc. The dark room is, actually, still in his house, although it's mostly used for storage now. Growing up, it was common to walk through my basement and see strips of film dangling from clothes lines, drying and getting ready for processing. There were all these smelly chemicals around and the dark room had funky lights and special cabinets that kept the print-paper from being exposed.

Two, my father was a high school print shop teacher. So, he had access to a printing press and he knew how to create printed documents the old fashioned way: sortable type, stripped negatives, printing plates, etc.

So, when you combine those qualifications, it meant:

a) There are lots of pictures of my sister and me as kids (compared to what was the norm for other people my age in that era)

b) We always had lots of custom made pads in the house. (For instance, one of mine said, "Steve" and had a picture of R2-D2 on it.)

And, of course...

c) The faces of my sister and I graced the Christmas Cards every year, year after year, in an era where this was considered really incredible.

Today, it's hard to understand how this was such a big deal because it's so easy to do now. But it was a big deal. Among many of the recipients of my family's Christmas Card—and my folks were the kind who sent Christmas Cards to practically every person they ever knew at any point in their lives—our cards were almost legendary. People marveled at them and couldn't wait to get them in the mail. They wanted to see what the card looked like and what we—the kids—looked like compared to the previous year.

People used to smile and tell me, "We save your family's card every year!"

And lest anyone think that this custom card stuff is less noteworthy than I'm making it, I think we need to drop some dates here to show you how far removed we were from the point-and-click world we live in today.

The family tradition started in Christmas 1968. That, math majors, is three Christmas before I was even born. In fact, no dependents were born yet, unless you count little kitten Buffy, who, in fact, was the subject of the first card. She was in the first of her 15+ years and she posed next to a small Christmas tree for the occasion. (Of note to trivia buffs, she made two more appearances on the Christmas cards, but not until 1980 and 1984.)

In 1969, the calico was bumped off the card front to make room for my sister, who was the lone participant for the next two years. In 1971, I joined her.

Once we grew out of infancy, we actually used to have to "work" photo shoots for these things. My father would set up lights and stools and we'd have to take time out to model. After the shoot, he'd develop all the negatives and create contact sheets with thumbnail pictures and the "executive board" (Mom and Dad) would act like marketing directors at an ad agency and circle headshots on the print and make little notes about which one they should choose to be that year's "official shot" for each of us.

It sounds surreal to me when I tell the story, but it really did happen like that.

We appeared every year through Christmas 1985, at which point I was in ninth grade and my sister in eleventh. After that, she declared difiantly that she was too old to be appearing on Mom and Dad's Christmas card. But it was a goods run.

Well, these days it's not so special and everyone does it. Including me. Every year, though, I wonder whether I should be doing it. Yeah, I'm a graphic artist and have, perhaps, more capabilities than most and could probably do something (if I had the time and desire to) well beyond what I end up doing. But a) I don't, and b) I always feel kind of weird about sending these Christmas cards. It makes me feel like I'm saying, "Everyone LOOK AT MY KIDS!" It seems kind of "showy" to me, and as though it indicates that I am delusional enough to assume that other people are as fascinated by and smitten with pictures of my kids as I am.

In the end, though, I'll keep doing it. You know why? Because I do think it makes for better cards, comparatively speaking. I mean, even if you're not a "kid person," isn't it more interesting to get a custom photo in your card than not? Even if it's a picture of your house or something non-kid.

Seriously, I might not think much about your dog, but I'd rather look at a picture of Fido knowing it's your canine than just the stock cover of a Hallmark card.

I guess what would be really cool and non-"All About Me" in nature would be to send people a card and enclose a picture of them in it! We've done that before for parties and, in fact, for our wedding "thank you" cards. (We included not only the typical picture of ourselves, but a little keepsake picture of the guest that the card was being sent to.) But we've never done it for Christmas.

Maybe we will try that one year. But not this year. No time.

posted by Steve @ 1:57 PM