Saturday GLOWcase: James Paul Maher: A Devoted GLOW Fan from New Jersey

 

Welcome to the Saturday GLOWcase! In addition to featuring the wrestlers, cast, and crew of GLOW, I also highlighting the original fans of the show. Without the dedicated viewers, GLOW wouldn’t have thrived for the four amazing seasons that it did. Today, I am celebrating one of those loyal fans who made GLOW the iconic show it is.

James Paul Maher, circa late 1980's

James Paul Maher found GLOW purely by accident. One Saturday at noon, while flipping through channels, he stumbled upon WPIX Channel 11 airing Season 3, Episode 5, where Vicky Victory faced MTV. From that moment, James was hooked and watched every episode he could find. Although he caught Season 3 twice, the show was eventually dropped from his local station, so he never knew Season 4 existed. Hollywood, Sally, and Thunderbolt quickly became his favorite wrestlers, each leaving a lasting impression on him.

James always wished he could’ve gone to Las Vegas to see GLOW live. The closest he got was calling the GLOW 900 number, which cost him $20—a charge that initially got his dad in trouble until his mom called the number herself and found out the truth. Even though he wasn’t allowed to record GLOW on VHS, James got creative and recorded the raps from the TV using his radio, despite his dog barking in the background. His dad eventually helped him set up a better recording method without the noise.

AI James preparing to record the GLOW raps

James’s dedication didn’t stop there. In 1998 or 1999, he bought his first GLOW DVD from eBay, but without a DVD player, he watched it on his computer. He joined the original GLOW message board run by Ursula, where he chatted with other fans and even Hollywood, who sold him some personal videos. Hollywood was always very sweet to him, as was Tiffany Mellon, who sent him an autograph photo.

Through the message board, James also connected with PJ DiGiacomo from Somerville, New Jersey, and bought all four seasons of GLOW from him. PJ likely got his footage from Manzerman, who sold wrestling tapes online. James spent around $400 on his GLOW collection and kept adding missing episodes thanks to Ursula’s releases and his own hunts on YouTube for better quality footage. He transferred all the VHS tapes to DVDs, making a mostly complete collection with only a few missing skits, ending credits, and one televised match from Episode 91 of Season 4 (Roxy vs. Daisy rematch), which he has yet to find.

Hollywood and James

GLOW was a bright spot in James’s life when he felt like an outcast without many friends. It was a show where he could escape and forget his troubles for an hour. GLOW became an important outlet for him, especially since he wasn’t very close to his parents. He never imagined he’d meet his favorite GLOW girl, Hollywood, who has been incredibly sweet to him. Hollywood has visited him in Florida, picked him up in Tennessee for lunch, and done so much for him. In fact, today she picked him up for lunch while he was visiting Tennessee with our mutual friend and fellow GLOW fan, Rick Howard Jr., a few weeks ago. Hollywood’s kindness and generosity have shown James the beautiful person she is inside and out, and he couldn’t have asked for a better friend in his life.

James representing Hollywood with his GLOW belt

Over the years, James has also met several other GLOW girls, including Beastie and Lightning. He and I have been online friends for many years, and we finally met in person this past March on a GLOW cruise with Hollywood and Lightning from Miami to the Dominican Republic, St. Thomas, Tortola, and the Great Stirrup Cay in the Bahamas. We became even better friends and made many great memories on our trip, with hopes for many more in the future.

James as his CHARMING-GLOW alter-ego Malachy MacCharm

James’s story shows the lengths fans would go to engage with GLOW, despite the challenges. His dedication and creativity in capturing GLOW's essence highlight its enduring appeal. James’s journey from discovering GLOW by accident to becoming a devoted fan showcases the show's lasting impact and legacy.

A Disapppointing Christmas Surprise: The Casio PT-80 in Third Grade I wanted a real piano instead

As a kid, I loved visiting my Aunt Joan for many reasons, but one of the highlights was her Baldwin Fun Machine, which we all affectionately referred to as an organ. It was so much fun to play. The neighbors a few doors down from us, the Richardsons, had a piano that I loved to bang away on whenever I was over at their house. The mom, Karen, who played the organ at our church, promised one day that she would teach me how to play properly. From the age of 5, an organ or piano was always at the top of my wishlist to Santa.

When I was in the 1st grade, my mama told me that if I wanted a piano, I needed to commit to lessons before I could get one. I promised that I would and said Miss Karen would be the perfect teacher—and she might very well have been. However, I didn't get a piano or organ in the 1st grade. During my 2nd grade year, Mama said Santa was looking for a piano for me, and I believed her. But instead, I ended up with a new Huffy bike, just like my sister did.

We moved to Florida, and our house was slightly smaller, so we didn't have room for an organ or piano. But I still managed to keep them both on my wishlists. That year, I hoped once again for a piano-like gift from Santa. When Christmas morning came, I found a Casio PT-80 keyboard with a ROM-pack that had four pre-programmed MIDI-like songs under the Christmas tree. I was excited at first, until I tried to play it, or at least a few weeks later when the novelty wore off.

The Casio PT-80, while a thoughtful gift, didn't quite match my dreams. Its compact size and limited capabilities left me wanting more. The keys were perfectly sized for my fingers, but the keyboard was designed to be monophonic, meaning it could only play one note at a time. I couldn't create the rich, layered music I longed for. The pre-programmed songs were fun for a while, but they quickly became repetitive and dull, even after mama bought me a few more ROM-packs at Panhandle Music in Pensacola.

Though I tried to make the best of it, my disappointment was hard to hide. The Casio PT-80 was no match for the Baldwin Fun Machine or the Richardsons' piano. I yearned for a full-sized keyboard or piano, something that would allow me to truly explore my musical potential. My parents promised that one day I would get a full-sized instrument, but deep down, I knew it was unlikely.

Despite my initial disappointment, the Casio PT-80 played a significant role in my musical journey. It was my first real introduction to making music, and it sparked a lifelong passion for musical instruments. Every time I hear the electronic chirp of an old-school keyboard, I'm transported back to that Christmas morning in the 3rd grade, unwrapping my Casio PT-80 with a mix of excitement and longing.

So while my journey to a full-sized piano or organ took a few detours, the Casio PT-80 was an important stop along the way. It taught me the joy of music and the importance of improvisation, not just in melodies, but in life as well.

As the holidays roll around each year, I can't help but remember those childhood wishes. If you're ever thinking of the perfect gift, musical instruments, and gear hold a special place in my heart, especially an upright piano or perhaps a Baldwin Fun Machine in decent condition. Sometimes, the simplest sounds can spark the most profound joy.

An Unconventional Christmas Dinner at Chopsticks China Bistro

I hope you guys had a very Merry Christmas. This year, Terry and I decided to forgo our usual Christmas dinner traditions. I'm so used to cooking a turkey, dressing, and all the other fixings, but with our current medical issues and work schedules being a little out of sync, we needed a change of pace—something a little more relaxed and stress-free. So, after I got off work, I headed home to change, and we made our way to Chopsticks China Bistro in Peachtree City.

Chopsticks China Bistro has always been our go-to spot for a good meal, but we had never thought of it as a place to celebrate Christmas. As we walked through the doors, the familiar aromas of savory dishes greeted us, and a sense of calm washed over us. The restaurant was tastefully decorated for the holidays, with twinkling lights and festive decorations that added a touch of Christmas cheer.
We were quickly seated at a booth, and the warm, inviting ambiance made us feel right at home. The menu was filled with delicious options, and we decided to start with some classic appetizers: crab rangoons and egg rolls and crispy calamari. As we enjoyed our starters, we reminisced about past Christmas dinners and how different this year felt.

For the main course, Terry ordered the Curry Chicken with fried rice, a dish he could never resist, while I opted for the General Tso's Chicken, one of my all-time favorites since my sister first introduced me to it in my teens. The food arrived promptly, and the flavors were nothing short of amazing. The tender General Tso's Chicken was a symphony of flavors—crispy, sweet, and just the right amount of spicy. Terry's Curry Chicken, paired with the perfect blend of savory spices, made me momentarily forget all about the traditional Christmas turkey and ham. Though I'm sure I will miss the week of leftovers and everything I make with them, like turkey salad and soup.

As we savored our meal, we couldn't help but feel grateful for this small, yet meaningful, change in our holiday tradition. It reminded us that Christmas isn't just about the big, elaborate dinners or the perfectly decorated trees—though we have one hell of a decorated tree at home. It's about being together and finding joy in the little moments, even if that means enjoying a delicious Chinese feast.
We finished our dinner with a couple of fortune cookies, which seemed fitting for our unconventional Christmas celebration. The fortunes inside were simple yet poignant, reminding us to cherish every moment and look forward to the future with hope and positivity.

This year, our Christmas may have been different, but it was perfect in its own way. And who knows—though I do love my traditional turkey dinner—maybe this will become our new alternate holiday tradition. It's a reminder that sometimes, the best memories are made when you least expect them.

A Christmas Memory: The Gumdrop Tree and Family Traditions

Merry Christmas!!! Christmas Day has arrived and over the course of this month, and part of last month, I have shared so many Christmas memories of my past—some from the books I am currently writing and others just related to the holiday. I will continue to share a few more Christmas memories until the end of the Christmas season, January 6 though maybe not as frequently. 

Christmas seems to have come so fast this year, at least for me. Today, a random memory from when I was very little came to mind. It’s from a time when some traumatic events happened in my life, so the details are a bit spotty and pieced together.

There was a period when my parents split up briefly when I was between two and four years old. My mom packed up and flew with my sister and me to stay with my grandmother for what was meant to be a vacation but with the intent to stay in Texas. However, that story is for another time. This story, which happened before I began kindergarten, is a significant memory for me. I'm not sure how long we were living in certain places because, in a short time, we lived in a few houses. We lived in a rented house off Cody Road, where I have a strange memory of possibly getting abducted by something like aliens sneaking in through a hole in the wall behind my chest of drawers. I might share that story in a future blog. We also lived at my granny's house on East Drive in Mobile, Alabama, my grandmother's trailer in Rockport, Texas, our little yellow rented house on Easter Lane, as well as the house we rented from the parents of my sister's friend Laura Moon, just two doors down from the yellow house.

After my parents got back together, we all ended up in the little yellow rented house on Easter Lane. This was shortly after we experienced Hurricane Frederick while staying with my granny until my dad found the yellow house. When we moved in, Daddy did everything he could to try and make amends to my mom, except buying her a replacement wedding band for the one she had lost many years back. When the Christmas season came along, Daddy took us all out to a few places to look for Christmas trees, something that became a tradition. Back in the 70s, places like department stores and hardware stores didn't carry real trees like they do now, and you basically only had three choices: an artificial tree from a department store, a Christmas tree farm, or stands that were usually set up in random parking lots or a vacant area next to a gas station. I know it sounds weird, but this was definitely a thing. Since I moved to Atlanta almost 30 years ago, the only business I recollect that still sets up like this each year is called Big John's.

This particular year, Daddy was going out of his way to make us all happy and wanted this Christmas to be special for us all. We didn’t go to a tree farm but to one of the aforementioned places that had trees set up in a parking lot, or next to one. I don’t remember how the decision was made, but I remember being able to pick out a tree, which I thought would be the one in the living room, but my dad had already picked one out. We all got back into Daddy's pickup truck and headed home, making a stop at TG&Y to buy some Christmas lights and some more decorations. When we got home, Daddy pulled two Christmas trees from the bed of his truck—one taller than the other. The taller tree went into a tree stand, and the other was not cut at the bottom. It was in a planter, complete with its roots—it was a live tree.

The cut tree was placed in our living room, where Mama and Daddy strung the lights and put the star on top before we decorated it. The second tree was placed in my bedroom next to my bed and strung up with a set of our older Christmas lights, the colors a little faded and slightly pastel but pretty all the same. Daddy let Mama decide on how to decorate this one with me. Mama asked what I wanted to decorate my tree with, and I said “candy,” not realizing there really weren’t candy decorations at the time. Nowadays, you can buy decorations molded from candy and ones that look like candy packages. Mama worked her magic, jumped into her yellow Pontiac car, and came home with bags of spice and gum drop candy. Mama was always a creative lady and very much loved making something ordinary into something extraordinary. She also bought silver decoration hangers and took me to my room to begin decorating the tree. Mama showed me all I needed to do was bend the bottom of the hanger slightly and push the bottom of the spice and gum drops onto the wire, then hang each one on the branches. This was really fun because, as tedious as the work was, the fact that we could eat our decorations as we went along made it go quicker. Once we were done, Mama asked if it was missing anything, and I told her a star. We didn’t have the money for a new star, and our actual star was on top of our living room tree, so Mama went into her bedroom and came out with something that resembled a baby doll but with wings and a cord coming from behind—it was an angel. This wasn’t just any angel; it was one from when Mama was a little girl. She got a chair, carefully put the angel on top of my tree, and plugged it into the end of the string of colored lights. While it looked pretty old and dated, I thought it was beautiful. When Mama asked if there was anything else we could add to the tree to make it even better, I said popcorn. We were country people, and I remember seeing popcorn strung on other trees, so it seemed like it might have been a good addition. Unfortunately, Mama said we didn’t have any popcorn because we didn’t have a popcorn popper. Keep in mind, these were the days before microwave popcorn was made. Most people, including us, didn’t have a microwave in our homes. I don’t think my family even knew what one was.

Throughout the Christmas season, I spent more time in my room, laying in bed and looking at the Christmas lights in the darkened room, insisting they stay on all night in place of my nightlight. I also wanted to make sure Santa knew there was a tree in my room. When Mama wrote my letter to Santa, I told her to make sure he came into my room to see it. I was so proud of that tree, and to this day, I still have visions of it. After Christmas, my Daddy dragged our living room Christmas tree to the back of our yard where there was a wooded area, but my Christmas tree was put on our front porch and watered each day until the ground was warm enough to dig a hole. My daddy planted my tree in the corner of my mama’s vegetable garden. Every time we went out there to pick cucumbers, cantaloupe, or something else during the summer, I would remind Mama of our gumdrop tree.

Regarding the popcorn idea, even though we couldn’t put it on the tree, Mama mentioned to my dad what I asked for and how much she missed popcorn. On Christmas morning, an unspoken Christmas wish came true thanks to the Christmas tree in my room. My mama opened up a box to find a brand new West Bend Popcorn Maker. She used that popcorn maker for years and probably still had it up until she passed away. Mama’s popcorn maker was a staple in our house. She would make popcorn for us to snack on at night, make popcorn balls for school functions, and sometimes just make popcorn during the day, just to have some.

This memory is a cherished part of my childhood, a blend of simple joys, creativity, and the warmth of family traditions. Each Christmas, I am reminded of the love and effort my parents put into making the holiday special, despite the challenges we faced. The little gumdrop tree in my room symbolized not just a festive decoration but a gesture of love and a source of lasting happiness.

Christmas Treasures: The Best (and Worst) Gifts of My Lifetime

Merry Christmas Eve, everyone! I find myself reminiscing about some of my favorite Christmas presents over the years. While every gift carries its own special sentiment, there are a few that stand out and bring back a flood of fond memories.

Before I started kindergarten, in the house at the end of Easter Lane, Santa brought me a purple AM radio with a three-foot hardwired cord and a purple and white microphone. It didn't get very loud, but I adored it. The batteries went dead pretty quickly, and my parents never replaced them. I think it's because I only used the microphone to hum into. Even without batteries, I loved lipsyncing to Olivia Newton-John, Juice Newton, and Dolly Parton records. That little radio holds a special place in my heart.

From the early 1980s to the present, I've received Masters of the Universe action figures as gifts from Grandma Manning, Santa, mama, daddy, and Terry. These figures have been a constant source of joy and nostalgia, keeping the magic of childhood alive.

When I was in the 4th grade, we got a Radio Shack TRS-80 Color Computer for Christmas. It was awesome, and I still appreciate the experience of learning programming on it. It was my first introduction to the world of computing, and it sparked a lifelong interest in technology.

Among the best gifts I've ever received were my beloved puppies—Chip the beagle, Pickles the English Springer Spaniel, Peaches the Cocker Spaniel, and Pat the Golden Retriever. Each one brought immense joy and love into my life, even though, sadly, they were taken from me too soon. Animals are the best gifts because they offer unconditional love.

One year, I received a fish tank full of black mollies. My mom ended up taking over their care because I didn't have the time to invest in them, but it was a fascinating gift nonetheless.

In the 6th grade, I got an Emerson CTR932 dual cassette boombox. I carried it around the neighborhood, blasting out Madonna's hits. It was the ultimate symbol of coolness at the time.

Another cherished gift was a Nintendo NES system with a bunch of games from Santa when I was in the 6th or 7th grade. Those games are still some of my favorites. That same year, my mom gifted me a pair of fancy parakeets, Petey and Penny, that the next-door neighbor decided to get rid of. While I wasn't very fond of birds and my mom ended up taking care of them, it was still a memorable gift.

My sister always knew how much I loved music. She bought me The Bangles' "Walk Like An Egyptian" 45 record when I was in elementary school, and later, my very first CD, Michael Jackson's "Dangerous."

In the late '90s, I started building carnival ride models and had purchased a few kits made by IHC Hobby. Terry really went all out and bought a bunch of awesome carnival models for me. I still have them and plan to feature them on my blog in the future.

In 2010, Terry gave me a 4th generation iPod Touch. I used it for over a decade until I made the switch to listening to music on my phone, mainly because I could load up over 128 GB of music on it compared to the iPod's 16 GB. I still have that iPod and occasionally use it at home. It's a reminder of how much joy music has always brought me.

Dolly Parton's "Songteller" book, given to me by Terry, is another treasure. It's filled with stories and songs that showcase the incredible talent and journey of one of my favorite artists. It's a gift that keeps on giving.

One of my all-time favorite gifts has to be the FlashPad 3.0 that Terry gave me for Christmas a few years ago. I still love it so much! The way it combines light and sound in a game that's both challenging and captivating is simply brilliant. Even years later, it never fails to entertain me.

Growing up, my least favorite gifts were clothes, especially those from K-Mart and Walmart during my middle school years. However, looking back, I appreciate the practicality and thoughtfulness behind these gifts. While they might not have been as exciting as toys or gadgets, they were certainly useful and a testament to the love and care my family put into making sure I was well-dressed and taken care of.

Reflecting on these gifts, I'm filled with gratitude for the thoughtfulness and love that went into each one. Every present, no matter how big or small, played a role in shaping my holiday memories and reminding me of the joy and warmth of the season. 🎄✨

In a Holidaze at Aunt Joan's: Christmas Eve Memories and Dysfunctional Family Tradition

I loved going to my Aunt Joan's house as a kid, it didn't matter what time of year but the holidays were the best.

She lived on Garris Drive in Mobile, off Repoll Road. From our house on Easter Lane, there were two ways to get there. The first was the short route, driving from Tanner Williams Road and turning onto Eliza Jordan Road, which was long, bumpy, and dirt-covered. (It’s been paved since then). The second way was my favorite, usually taken if we had to stop off and pick up something from the store, usually K&B. A red-haired man I had a crush on worked there, as well as a cashier my dad was overly friendly with. The K&B stop wasn’t the highlight for me, although I did enjoy the purple neon glow of the store and the jolly eye candy of the red-haired man.

The real reason I loved the long way was that we would circle around and pass the Mobile Regional Airport. I absolutely adored the glow of the blue runway lights in the darkness, a shade of blue I always associated with Christmas. Nowadays, LED technology has taken over the runway lights, and the blue in modern lighting just doesn’t have the same magic.

When we finally arrived at Aunt Joan's house on Christmas Eve, there would usually be smoke billowing from her den's chimney and a few cars sitting in her driveway, with my uncle Billy's confederate flag proudly waving on the flag post in the corner of her yard. The smell of country cooking filled the air, not just from Aunt Joan's house but from all of the neighboring homes.

Aunt Joan's Christmas tree, from what I remember, was always a smaller artificial tree decorated with colored lights, a star, garland, and colorful ornaments—nothing over the top, but just enough to say "Merry Christmas."

Christmas Eve at Aunt Joan's was a big affair for the family. Her house was a large three-bedroom with two bathrooms, a spacious kitchen that opened into a large dining room, a mid-sized living room in the front, and a huge den, known as the family room, built onto the house. There was also a large gated back porch where we usually hung out during the summer when we weren't running around the 13-acre property. The dining room table was always filled with Christmas fare and plenty of country sides: turkey, ham, dressing, mac & cheese, fried squash, fried okra, turnip or mustard greens, black-eyed peas, and a lot of other dishes, plus Aunt Joan's amazing cornbread. My mom would bring along her specialty homemade sweets: fudge, divinity, peanut brittle, and pies—pumpkin pie, sweet potato pie, and pecan pie.

Over the course of a few hours, the house filled with not only Uncle Billy and Aunt Joan, but my cousins Lynda, Marie, La Shea, and Missy; my Aunt Beverly and Uncle Gene, their sons Brian and Darrin; my Uncle Mike and Aunt Cindy, their son Mikey; my granny; and of course my mom, dad, sister, and myself. Things would be festive and peaceful during dinner, but my uncles and dad enjoyed their alcoholic beverages, mostly starting with beer, though whiskey flowed a bit too, especially as the night drew on.

After dinner, everyone would gather in the den. Christmas albums by Alabama or another country artist played on Aunt Joan's huge console stereo as the gift exchange began. Since the family was so large, each person was assigned to give a gift to someone else. One year, my mom was chosen to give my cousin Lynda a gift. At the time, Lynda was into Legos, but my mom, not realizing the difference between Duplo and Lego—or possibly making a decision based on price—gifted Lynda some Duplos, much to her disappointment. I remember one year my granny gave me a gift: the Mickey Mouse Disco record, which I actually love to this very day.

As I mentioned, alcohol was flowing, and we all knew it was only a matter of time before something would break up the gathering. Usually, shortly after we all opened our gifts, just like clockwork, it happened: a fight. It started with screaming and ended with someone burning rubber out of the driveway, which was dirt and clam shells. By the way, this is one of the reasons, besides rattlesnakes and cottonmouths, that none of us ran around the yard barefoot throughout the year. If you've ever walked on clam shells without shoes, you will never forget the feeling.

Anyway, back to the fight: somehow, my Uncle Mike, who I loved dearly, was usually at the center of the argument. The more he drank, the more brazen he became. I usually sat oblivious to what was being said, usually in what I call the "Holidaze" but I always knew when it was time to go home. The moment the wrought iron gate on the back patio swung shut and we heard the shells in the driveway flying as the engine of Uncle Mike's vehicle roared and lulled in the distance before disappearing, my sister and I knew Christmas at Aunt Joan's was over until next year. It was time to go to the car, head home in silence, then go to bed and hope Santa didn't forget our house.

To this day, I think of the effort Aunt Joan made to make Christmas special for all of us. Even though it usually ended in disaster, we all still had a great time. As dysfunctional as we were, we loved each other very much and looked forward to getting together each year. The year my Aunt Joan and Uncle Billy moved out of that house and into a trailer next to their newly built gas station, Garris' General Store, marked the end of our family get-togethers. But those twisted, yet great memories live on.

Christmas Caroling??? Adventures: A Scout's Journey

When I joined the Scouts, I went straight into the Webelos, but one of the requirements before I could officially cross over, at least according to the scoutmaster, was to complete the courses in the Cub Scout handbooks for Tiger, Wolf, and Bear. It was a sort of crash course in scouting skills, and while I learned a lot, some of the tasks, especially those from the Tiger book, felt a bit redundant.

One of the skills I needed to master was essentially Community Training. The idea was to do something for the betterment of the community as long as it brought joy to people. Since it was Christmas and I was in the elementary school chorus, I decided to go Christmas caroling with some of the other scouts. Unfortunately, none of the other scouts showed up, so it was just my mom and me.

It was cold that night. Bear in mind, we lived in Florida, so the temperatures probably weren't that bad, but to us, it felt freezing. We bundled up, and I even wore a knit hat under my Webelos cap, which I technically hadn't earned yet. Months earlier, I had been trick-or-treating, so I knew where most of the older people in our neighborhood lived. I strategically avoided any houses with people I knew. The game plan was simple: knock on the door, and the moment it opened, Mom and I would start singing "Silent Night." Mom was my witness and had to sign off on all my tasks. She could have made it easy, but she didn't.

Things didn't go as planned. At the first house, no one opened the door. The second house was answered by a kid with snot hanging from his nose, who told us his mom was throwing up, which we could hear. The third door belonged to a grumpy old lady I remembered from a school fundraiser in the third grade. She snatched the door open and screamed, "WHAT THE F*** DO YOU WANT?" I started crying, and Mom, trying to console me, called her an old biddy as we walked home.

After that, Mom took mercy on me. She signed off on my task and spent 30 minutes making up stories about how we entertained the masses with our voices. Even though things didn’t go as planned, it's a memory that makes me smile because mama had a way of making things seem better when things went wrong.

Saturday GLOWcase: Helena Cameron, AKA Daisy from GLOW

 

This weeks Saturday GLOWcase is all about the Awesome Daisy of GLOW. I chose Daisy for this week in honor of her upcoming birthday, December, 25. Happy Birthday Daisy, I hope you enjoy your day.

When I first saw Helena Cameron, who played Daisy on Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling (GLOW), during her match in season 3, she instantly became one of my favorites. For nearly 30 years, I've admired her work, and I was thrilled when we became friends. Our time together at Knott's Berry Farm, shoe shopping, and hanging out on the Queen Mary are memories I cherish. Helena graciously shared her story years ago, and here's a refined version of her journey.

Helena as the awesome Daisy circa 2000

Helena Cameron's journey into the world of entertainment is unique and inspiring. Back in the late 1980s, she was working at Northrop but decided to take a leap of faith and switch to background work and extra roles in movies. One day, while filling out paperwork in a casting office, she had a chance encounter with Matt Cimber that changed everything. Matt came out of the back and asked if she wanted to be on a TV show. He asked if she wanted to join GLOW. Helena knew about the show because her ex's daughter watched it and always said she should be on it. Helena used to joke that if they pulled her hair, she’d get really pissed off. But the opportunity just kind of fell into her lap.

Matt gave her the details, and without hesitation, Helena and her friend Kell’e, who would become known as Beastie the Road Warrior, loaded up their car and headed to Las Vegas to sign up. Daisy, Helena's character, was created by either Matt or Steve. Daisy was pretty much your standard character: "You don't know where you live, you don't have any relatives, you don't know how old you are," Helena says. None of the wrestlers had characters when they arrived. Everyone wanted to be a beautiful, sexy someone. Helena jokes that she wanted to be a mermaid. No one wanted to be attached to a midget, especially one with a mole on her face, she laughs.

Daisy surrounded by the awesome ladies of GLOW

Helena's character started off as a “Bad Girl” doing the bidding of Gremlina, played by a woman half her size wearing snakeskin tights, a Gremlina-like hairstyle, and, as Helena stated, a huge mole on her face with hairs hanging from it. Daisy turned babyface when she turned on Gremlina, stuffing her into a trash can. But within the same season, she seemed to be back as a Bad Girl, though Helena perceives her more as a loner, someone on no one’s side. Daisy eventually became the GLOW champion during the season 4 finale, taking the crown from Cheyenne Cher. This was the final episode of all time. When GLOW ended, it was really sudden and unexpected. Helena and the other cast members didn’t find out until it was already over. They did a Pay Per View show featuring a few of the original GLOW girls along with new wrestlers who may have continued if the show had continued. Daisy’s last match was with Ninotchka during the Pay Per View, and she retained her crown. To this day, she is the current reigning Champion of GLOW.

Daisy's Family Feud Appearance

After GLOW ended, Helena went back to doing background work for a while. Eventually, she tried different jobs, including limo driving and stunt shows. Matt reached out to her again with a crazy request: "I want to blow you up in a box." She trusted him and went to Vegas to do a live stunt show at the Aladdin, where she reconnected with her friend Godiva.

Terry and I with Daisy at Knott's Berry Farm

Reflecting on her experiences, Helena acknowledges both the good and bad times. You're always treated horribly at one time or another in your life. Does the horrible outweigh the good? Sure, everyone has bad times. Helena had good times with Matt; she was fortunate. He was only bad to you if you let him be. They didn’t make any money, but it was an adventure. She met wonderful people and visited places she never would have otherwise.

Helena shared some insights into GLOW’s inner workings. They got their room and board, airfare, and a little per diem covered. During training, they made $100 a week for eight hours a day, and it went up to $250 a week when they started filming. They didn’t get residuals or any money from appearances like on Phil Donahue, which would have been SAG wages. Casinos recognized them because they looked so fake and ate there every day. They often got in trouble because they weren’t supposed to be around each other. The GLOW House was a house in Ventura. Helena's first roommate was Fiji. Later, she roomed with Godiva, Stinky, and Zelda. Eventually, Cher and Helena moved out of the GLOW apartments and got their own place.

Angel helping Daisy adjust the crown I presented to her

Since her GLOW days, Helena has embraced a new chapter in her life. She is now a proud mother of two beautiful children. She has also remained active in entertainment, popping up in episodes of shows like Pushing Daisies and Friends. Despite GLOW being all-female, Helena was also part of the “Transgender” choir featured in an episode of GLEE thanks to her beautiful Amazon-like stature.

A Christmas Memory: Rediscovering "It Came Upon A Midnight Clear"

My sister and I spent a good portion of our childhoods glued to the TV, especially during the colder months. Despite living in Alabama and later in Florida, we felt the chill of winter, at least as far as I can remember. Snow was a rarity, although we did witness some flurries a few times in the mid-80s.
A few Christmases after our move to Florida, my sister and I were already settled down, having inspected all the treasures Santa had left for us and eaten breakfast. We began watching a random Christmas movie on TV that neither of us had ever seen before. It looked fairly recent but had a somewhat dated feel. That movie was "It Came Upon A Midnight Clear."

I only saw the movie that one time, but it left a lasting impression. I wished I could have watched it again, but it was never available at the video store where we rented movies and a VCR. I'm unsure if it was ever released on home video at the time, but even if it had been, it wouldn't have mattered much since we didn't own a VCR—we always rented one until years later when my mom finally bought one.
Even though I remembered the name of the movie, it never seemed to re-air, or if it did, it slipped past my notice. My sister and I recalled its title, but I'm unsure if it resonated with her as deeply as it did with me. I loved it and searched the TV guide every year, hoping it would come back.

"It Came Upon A Midnight Clear" is one of those films that fly under the radar yet still tell a captivating story. The movie centers around a widowed grandfather, played by the legendary Mickey Rooney, who is granted one last Christmas on Earth to spend with his grandson. It was a low-key movie, not exactly a full-blown Christmas film, and had a tinge of sadness to it. The movie was released as a made-for-TV film in 1984 and, while it didn't achieve massive fame, it earned a special place in my heart.

While it may not be a traditional holiday classic, "It Came Upon A Midnight Clear" captured the essence of the season for me. The movie's nostalgic and heartfelt story resonated with my own experiences of Christmas, making it a cherished memory from my childhood. Despite the sadness woven into its plot, the film reminded me of the importance of love and the simple joys of life, especially during the holiday season.

A Heartfelt Christmas Memory: Daddy Decorating Our Yard

Inside our house, Christmas was a cozy and laid-back affair. My mom, sister, and I would decorate the tree or engage in some kind of Christmas craft, like painting cookie dough ornaments. But outside, it was a different story entirely. Armed with a hammer, nails, and our old Christmas tree lights, my dad would transform our home into a mini winter wonderland. Although his intentions were heartfelt, his patience often wore thin, and he’d drop more colorful language in one night than most people do in a lifetime.

My sister, Becki, holding me steady on the ledge of our house on Easter Lane, circa 1980

Over the years, his vision for our yard evolved. It all started with a few wreaths made from a discarded artificial Christmas tree he found at the dump, with working hurricane lanterns filled with kerosene hanging in the middle of each. He then moved on to tacking Christmas lights to the eaves of our house and building large Christmas trains and presents out of old wood for the yard. He was a true genius with wood. One year, he made life-sized wooden cutouts of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs—though I never quite understood their connection to Christmas, they were still awesome. My dad's woodworking skills weren't limited to discarded manufactured wood either. He created all of Santa's reindeer, including Rudolph, from logs too green for firewood and thick branches from various trees being cleared from the vacant lot near our house. My only regret is not getting decent photos of my dad's handiwork each year. I don't believe photos exist for every year, just a few scattered among photo albums that my mom and sister had.

In addition to making our yard festive, there were nights when Daddy would load us up in the car or his truck, and we’d drive around Mobile or Pensacola, through neighborhoods admiring the lights on other people's homes, or through heavily decorated parks. Sometimes we’d drive over to see if the USS ALABAMA Battleship Memorial Park was lit up, though I can’t recall if it ever was back then. My memories have faded a bit over the years. I'm not sure if Daddy was just looking for inspiration or if he truly enjoyed taking in the sights of other people's creations, but it seemed like every time we returned home, he’d add something new to his display. He would work from October through December, gathering ideas from magazines like Ladies' Home Journal, Southern Living, Family Circle, and countless others.

By the time New Year's Day arrived, Daddy would have the decorations down and already packed up and stored in our storage room in the house. I dreaded that day because it meant the season was over until the arrival of Thanksgiving.

These memories of my dad's dedication to creating a festive atmosphere are some of the most cherished of my childhood. They remind me of the joy and magic of the holiday season, and the lengths to which my dad went to make it special for our family.

Elementary School Christmas Concert Memories

Ready for another trip down memory lane to those unforgettable elementary school Christmas concert nights? These evenings were filled with excitement, nerves, and a lot of off-key singing. Picture an hour of kids standing on risers in the cafeteria, dressed in what our teachers told us should be our Sunday best, but often looked like a hot mess. To be completely honest, I didn’t know the lyrics to most of the songs except the ones that I heard on my Elvis record and what was featured in the Christmas specials that would air each year. Otherwise, I was singing my own version, We Wish You A Merry Christmas never included Figgy Pudding in my mind, it was always Piggy Footing or something like that. I’m pretty sure 90% of the kids were either singing out of tune and the other 10% were rolling with it in the style of Ethel Merman screaming at the top of their lungs. I was shy at the time so my words were usually a monotonous mumble at best.

The program was the same every year: all Christmas songs, no Jewish songs. I’m sure there was a Jewish family or two around, but in Pace, Florida, there was only one holiday season—it wasn’t called the holiday season—it was Christmas Season. It was always Merry Christmas, never Happy Holidays or Season’s Greetings.

Our music teacher, Mrs. Chiles, would passionately bang away on the piano while none of us were near a mic, this was basically where we all learned to belt out tunes if we really wanted to be heard. The only microphones were the white Peavey branded mics hanging from the ceiling above us, and I’m sure most of them didn’t even work. Knowing what I know now about sound, floor mics would have been more effective but that was OK, we learned projection. We would belt out classics like "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," "Frosty the Snowman," "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," "Up on the House Top," and the slightly controversial "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus."

Then, the lights would go down, and you’d hear the unmistakable sound of a box of bells being pushed around the stage. When the lights came back up, the hot mess of a choir was now armed with bells. You know what’s coming next... "Dashing through the snow..." as we hit the chorus of "Jingle Bells." It was like an Annie audition gone wrong, with kids belting out "JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE ALL THE WAY," competing with the tinnitus-inducing sound of 90 children armed with bells.

"Jingle Bells" has four verses and one chorus that repeats three times. By the second verse, my mind would wander, and I’d draw a blank, picking it back up at the chorus. This continued through the night until we finally reached the end. But wait, why are they still holding the bells? Oh yes, it’s time for "JINGLE BELL, JINGLE BELL, JINGLE BELL-ROCK"—the stripped-down, Lady Gaga-like piano and bell version of "Jingle Bell Rock." By the time we finished "We Wish You a Merry Christmas," very heavy on the "SHHHH" our parents were probably ready to shove their car keys deep into their ears. The second the last "AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR" left our mouths, we were rushed off the stage, with our parents giving us the fake "You were amazing" speeches as we all headed to the car, the sound of our ears ringing drowning out the parents all telling themselves they were glad that's over and it only happens once a year as the roar of the engines fill the parking lot.

Before moving to Florida, I had a similar experience at my old elementary school, Tanner Williams Elementary. Those concerts were arranged by the librarian, whose name I can't recall. Much like at Pea Ridge, we would stand on the risers in the cafeteria, dressed in our best attempt at Sunday best, and belt out the same set of Christmas classics. Whether it was under the direction of Mrs. Chiles or the librarian at Tanner Williams, the spirit and chaos of those elementary school Christmas concerts were the same. These concerts were more than just performances; they were a rite of passage, a chaotic celebration of the season, and an unforgettable part of my childhood memories.

My Favorite Christmas Songs: A Heartwarming Playlist

I sat down with the intent to bring you more Christmas memories but didn't have it in me today. I can't tell all my Christmas stories in one year, but since it's Tuesday—the day I usually post a music-related blog—I figured it’s the perfect opportunity to dive into some of my favorite Christmas tunes. Growing up, I got my love for Christmas music from my mom and dad. My dad loved listening to Christmas music all year round, and I've picked up the same habit. There's something magical about these songs that bring back so many warm memories. So, here are some of my all-time favorite Christmas songs, along with a bit of history and their original release dates.

Nat King Cole's "The Christmas Song" (1946) is a classic. His smooth, velvety voice and this timeless tune just feel like Christmas. Bing Crosby's "White Christmas" (1942) is another classic, holding the Guinness World Record for the best-selling single ever. It’s perfect for those nostalgic, snowy holiday scenes. Elvis Presley’s "Blue Christmas" (1957) is all about that melancholic, soulful vibe, perfect for those feeling a bit blue during the holidays.

Frank Sinatra’s version of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" (1944), originally by Judy Garland, brings a comforting and hopeful tone. Tony Bennett’s jazzy "Winter Wonderland" (1968) feels like a snowy stroll through a winter wonderland. Ella Fitzgerald’s "Sleigh Ride" (1960) is so lively and cheerful; it makes you feel like you’re on the sleigh ride with her. Dean Martin’s "Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!" (1959) makes you want to cozy up and wish for a snowstorm.

Perry Como’s "(There's No Place Like) Home for the Holidays" (1954) reminds us that home is where the heart is, especially during the holidays. Johnny Mathis’ "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year" (1963) perfectly captures the excitement and joy of the season. Burl Ives’ "A Holly Jolly Christmas" (1964) is so upbeat and jolly; it’s a must-play at any holiday gathering.

Gene Autry’s "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" (1949) brings the beloved story of Rudolph to life. "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" by Elmo & Patsy (1979) always brings a smile and a chuckle, even if it’s a bit quirky. Brenda Lee’s "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" (1958) is perfect for setting a festive mood. Bobby Helms’ "Jingle Bell Rock" (1957) adds a rock-and-roll twist to the holidays.

The Beach Boys’ "Little Saint Nick" (1963) brings their signature surf sound to Christmas music. Karen Carpenter’s rich voice in "Merry Christmas Darling" (1970) and Kathy Mattea’s unique "Christmas Collage" (1999) create beautiful, emotional listening experiences. The duet of "Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy" by Bing Crosby and David Bowie (1977) is hauntingly beautiful.

John & Yoko and The Plastic Ono Band with the Harlem Community Choir released "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)" in 1971, carrying a powerful message of peace and hope. Bruce Springsteen’s rock-infused "Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town" (1985) brings infectious energy, while Band Aid’s "Do They Know It's Christmas?" (1984) remains a poignant reminder of global unity and giving. Paul McCartney’s "Wonderful Christmastime" (1979) captures the simple joy of the season.

Michael Bolton’s "Our Love Is Like a Holiday" (1996) and Harry Connick Jr.’s playful "(It Must Have Been Ol') Santa Claus" (1993) add soulful and jazzy flavors to the mix. Diana Krall’s smooth jazz take on "Jingle Bells" (1998) and Mannheim Steamroller’s ethereal "Away in a Manger" (1984) provide unique listening experiences. Ottmar Liebert’s guitar rendition of "Deck the Halls" (1990) and Gloria Estefan’s powerful "Love on Layaway" (1993) stand out in any playlist.

Celine Dion’s emotional "Don't Save It All for Christmas Day" (1998) and Joe’s soulful "This Christmas" (1999) bring modern twists to holiday classics. The Isley Brothers' "Special Gift" featuring Ronald Isley (2007) and Shaggy’s reggae-infused "All We Need Is Love (Christmas in the Yard)" (2008) offer fresh, festive vibes. Britney Spears’ catchy "My Only Wish (This Year)" (2000) and 'N SYNC’s heartfelt "You Don't Have to Be Alone (On Christmas)" (1998) add pop flair to the season. Luther Vandross’ powerful "O Come All Ye Faithful" (1995) and Debbie Gibson’s cheerful "Sleigh Ride" (1992) are perfect for a festive, fun-filled Christmas.

Dolly Parton’s "A Holly Dolly Christmas" (2020) includes tracks like "Cuddle Up, Cozy Down Christmas" with Michael Bublé and "Mary, Did You Know?" Loretta Lynn’s "Country Christmas" (1966) is full of country charm with songs like "To Heck with Ole Santa Claus" and "Blue Christmas." Mariah Carey’s "Merry Christmas" (1994) features the iconic "All I Want for Christmas Is You" and "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)." Barbara Mandrell's "It Must Have Been the Mistletoe" (1984) captures the magic and romance of the season, and Barbra Streisand's version of "My Favorite Things" (1967) brings a unique twist to this classic song, making it a delightful addition to any Christmas playlist.

George Michael’s "Last Christmas" (1984) by Wham! is a personal favorite. I've always been a huge fan of George Michael, and I cherish the memory of a one-night stand we shared back in 1993. It was a special moment that I'll always hold dear. Lastly, Eartha Kitt’s "Santa Baby" (1953) is a playful, seductive classic that adds a touch of glamor to any Christmas playlist.

Sinead O'Connor has a beautiful rendition of "Silent Night." Her version brings a hauntingly serene vibe to this classic carol. Expose teamed up with Barry Manilow for a fun and festive version of "Jingle Bells" on his 1990 album "Because It's Christmas." It’s a great addition to any holiday playlist!

These songs have a special place in my heart and bring back wonderful memories of Christmases past. I hope they bring as much joy to you as they do to me. Happy Holidays! 🎄✨🎶

Bonus Christmas Post: Recreating My Childhood Letter to Santa from 4 year old me.

If only mama kept copies of my letters to Santa when she helped me write them. This is a recreation of what I dictated to my mom when I was 4 years old, circa 1980. Not sure if she wrote what I asked but this is what I can remember saying to her...or at least most of it. Of course the stationery is not the same, she used the plain ruled writing pad she used for all of the letters she wrote to various people. My mom loved writing letters, even if she didn't get a prompt reply or even a reply at all. My requests to Santa are probably one of the many reasons I never had to come out to my family. I kinda still do want those white go-go boots but I would be happy with a white pair of Doc Martens, size 10 US. I did get boots that year but I think Santa misread or didn't hear me clearly, I got Cowboy Boots, not the same.

A New York Holiday: An Unexpected Date and 'Home Alone 2' Adventure 1992

Home Alone 2 Lost In New York

This story is part of a chapter from my book. It recounts a sweet moment during a time when I wasn't getting along with Erik, who was more of a friend but sort of my boyfriend. In this story, I meet a random man in an arcade, lie to him about being stood up by a blind date and he steps in as my date for the night. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed living and reliving the moment while writing it.

In December of 1992, I found myself in the heart of New York City, a place brimming with holiday magic and bustling energy. Amidst the bright lights of Times Square, I was on my own, in my own personal Winter Wonderland. While playing pinball at the Playland Arcade, an older gentleman kept coming over to watch me play and try to converse. I had no clients for the night and wasn’t interested in hanging out at bars or doing any sort of "work," so I told him I was there for a blind date who never showed.

I had seen this man around the village a few times. My crackhead friend Tim had even smooched at him once as we passed by him on the street. While he wasn’t the best-looking guy in the village, he was attractive and seemed nice. He asked what my date and I were supposed to do, and I told him we were meeting at McDonald's and then heading to the Loew’s movie theater to watch "Home Alone 2." I don’t know what possessed me to share a bit of the story about seeing the first movie with my mom during a time when we weren’t getting along well, but he listened.

Though not exactly, AI got pretty close to my date.

Since my date missed out on the company of a nice guy, he offered to take me to see the movie instead. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe it was my duty to make Tim's wrong my right for the night. I had no intention of being disrespectful to this man. Perhaps he was the one that Biscuit and Shane told me to look out for as an unexpected "Sugar Daddy." But here I was, picked up by a sort of random man in a video arcade that I’d seen around the city, and he was treating me as if we were on a proper date, not just dumped.

Let me just say for the record, there was no blind date—it was something I made up because I thought it sounded good. So this gentleman not only held my hand and led me to the movie theater, but he also bought us tickets to see "Home Alone 2: Lost in New York" at the Lowes theater, along with two tubs of popcorn, a huge Sprite for me, and a Diet Coke for himself. I was on an unexpected date with a man who took pity on me and stepped in as my fake date’s understudy to my actual, not-really, fake date.

Years ago, while watching the first "Home Alone" movie, I never would have imagined there would be a second or that it would be set in the city I now call home. Not with my mom or even TK, who I felt was embarrassed to be seen with me, but with a sweet man who treated me as a proper date. Despite my initial disinterest in his company, thinking he would try to pull some funny business, we ended up having a pleasant time together. It was unexpected, and I think the hand-holding on the way to the theater was a sweet touch. I’m not sure if it was to give me the full effect of an actual date or if he was just affectionate with anyone.

When the movie began, he settled comfortably in his seat, watching the screen intently. As the film progressed, I found myself leaning my head on his shoulder. Surprisingly, he didn’t pull away or seem uncomfortable. Instead, he seemed to welcome the gesture, snuggling just a little closer. It felt unexpectedly sweet and genuine, almost as if he enjoyed the simple act of closeness as much as I did. His warmth and patience made me feel safe and cared for, turning what could have been an awkward situation into a comforting and memorable experience.

"Home Alone 2: Lost in New York" follows the misadventures of Kevin McCallister as he finds himself stranded in New York City during Christmas. The film captures the spirit of the city beautifully, with iconic landmarks and festive decorations setting the perfect backdrop for Kevin's escapades. Watching the movie while being in the very city it was set in made the experience all the more magical for me. It felt as if I was wandering the same streets alongside Kevin, sharing in his wonder and excitement. The film itself was a delightful blend of comedy and heartwarming moments, with Kevin once again outsmarting the bumbling burglars, Harry and Marv. Macaulay Culkin's performance was as charming as ever, and the addition of Tim Curry and Rob Schneider added an extra layer of humor to the film.

As I watched, I couldn't help but think back to when I saw the first "Home Alone" movie in Pensacola with my mom shortly after its release. The memory of that special time, filled with laughter and joy, added an extra layer of nostalgia to my experience in New York. After the movie, the man took me to a place that served pancakes bigger than your head, around the corner from the Townhouse Bar. We enjoyed our pancakes, which we could barely finish, laughing and talking about where we were from. He was really interested in where I was from because my accent, at the time, had become a hybrid of Southern, mid-Atlantic, and a bit of New York thrown in. The whole experience was surreal, almost like living in a movie myself. Here I was with this strange man, showing me kindness just as Kevin and the bird lady found friendship within the city by chance. They were both exactly what each other needed at the time.

"Home Alone 2: Lost in New York" is a sequel that truly stands on its own, capturing the essence of the holiday season while delivering plenty of laughs and touching scenes. The movie beautifully showcases the magic of New York City during Christmas, from the grand tree at Rockefeller Center to the bustling stores. It highlights the importance of finding others to share the joy of the holiday season, even amidst chaos.

Though I never saw the man who stepped in as the alternate to my fake date again, I often think of his kindness and hope he found someone to appreciate him the way he deserved. To this day, I look back on that night with a smile. The combination of being in New York City, watching a movie set in the same place, and the festive atmosphere made it an unforgettable experience. For a few hours, though I was really just a kid, I felt like a kid again, filled with wonder and excitement.

"Home Alone 2: Lost in New York" remains one of my favorite Christmas movies, not just for its entertainment value, but for the cherished memory it created during my time in the city. It was a brief respite from the complexities of my life at the time, and the film, intertwined with that personal memory, has a special place in my heart.

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Letters to Santa: A Holiday Tradition and a Deep Personal Story

 

Writing letters to Santa was always a cornerstone of my Christmas season. Mama had a unique way of making Santa seem like he was my real grandfather. It was a bit ironic because I did have a grandfather—Mama's stepdad, whom we called PawPaw. Although PawPaw was distant with me, it seemed a mythical being was more family to me. But as a kid, I never knew any better.

One of my earliest memories is sitting on Santa's lap at Springdale Mall when I was about 3 or 4 years old. I was so shy that I forgot everything I wanted to ask Santa for, except GoGo Boots. I think he misunderstood and I got cowboy boots instead. Years later, at 16, I found myself sitting on Santa’s lap again, this time at Macy’s in NYC. I was homeless then and told him I wanted a place of my own. I don’t think the Macy’s Santa understood completely, but he said he would do his best.

Not me but that was my style at 16, though different hair

Mama loved Christmas, and our house was always filled with Santa decorations. Watching Miracle on 34th Street gave Santa a definitive story in my mind, reinforcing the magical aura around him.
My letters to Santa started out like any other kid’s—filled with lists of toys and gifts I wished for. But over time, they evolved into more. They became a place where I poured out my thoughts and feelings, almost like a journal.

I remember one year, in third grade, our teacher Mrs. Kell gave us an assignment to write a letter to someone. I wrote to Santa. Mrs. Kell, who was supposed to be a family friend, wasn’t pleased. She told me Santa wasn’t real and made me write another letter to someone else. I chose PawPaw, but it was my grandmother who wrote back, not him.

Despite Mrs. Kell’s disbelief, the cookies we left out for Santa were always eaten, and the milk was always at a lower level in the morning. To me, that was proof enough that Santa was real.

One of the most personal letters I wrote to Santa was when I was about 9. In it, I came out to him, telling him I was gay and that I was being molested by a neighbor two doors down from me, the father of a girl in my same grade. I wondered if Santa hated me for being gay. Writing that letter was a vulnerable moment, but it felt safe to share it with Santa, as he would understand and possibly give me guidance to make the abuse end. I never got the guidance, but at the age of 12, it did end.

Even now, though I don't write letters to Santa, I still believe in the spirit of Santa and the magic that surrounds his character. The spirit of Christmas and the joy of those childhood memories fill me with warmth and wonder every holiday season.