“The Thieves of Christmas Eve” by William Fay

William Fay was a short story writer for the Post in the mid-1900s. His hard-boiled detective stories echo the fashionable trends of noir storytelling. In “The Thieves of Christmas Eve,” detective Wilbur Gilhouly is down on his luck and about to be demoted if he can’t crack a case before Santa is due.

Published on December 24, 1949

 

Wilbur Gilhouly, the detective, stood on Thirty-ninth Street, in Manhattan, pondering a problem of justice. He, for one, did not believe that a bookmaker known as Willy Kleebs had dropped a fellow man into the incinerator of the Hotel Marshall Arms. No matter what the lieutenant said, it just didn’t sound like Willy, and it was certainly not in the Christmas spirit.

The wind blew futilely against the stanch facade of Detective Gilhouly on this afternoon of December twenty-fourth. Were he not preoccupied with duty and the plight of Willy Kleebs, he would have listened to the tinkling of the bells — church bells, Salvation Army bells, and possibly, if the lieutenant’s uncharitable remarks of an hour before were true, the bells in his own head. Lieutenant Decker had a sharp and frequently unsheathed disposition that was a heavy cross to bear.

A uniformed cop named McEvoy came along. “You don’t look happy, Wilbur,” McEvoy said.

“If I been wearing a strained look, Charlie, it’s because I been thinking. An’ because I promised my missus I would do my Christmas shoppin’ early.”

Officer McEvoy swung his arms rather briskly to keep warm. “Ain’t it true,” he asked, “that Willy give that tax agent a tough time of it last week?”

“Why, yes … in a way,” said Wilbur.

Willy Kleebs, as a matter of record, had heaved Tax Agent Albert Haskins from the revolving door of the Hotel Marshall Arms, where both of them lived, to the curb of Thirty-ninth Street, in his own exuberant way. Likely enough, Tax Agent Haskins had been trying to shake him down, and Willy Kleebs, who ran his horse book with a mystic honesty exceeded only by St. Peter at the Gate, did not shake easily. But murder? No! Wilbur shook his head.

McEvoy said, “There isn’t a case against him?”

“I didn’t say that, Charlie.”

Because there was a case. There seemed no doubt Tax Agent Albert Haskins had been missing from his office and the Marshall Arms for several days, and just as little doubt that he had left a note for his wife, alleging that he had been threatened by Willy Kleebs, and directing that should evil things befall him, she should mention this to the police.

“And how about them bloodstains, Wilbur?”

“Listen,” Wilbur said, “a healthy man can put a bloodstain on half the furniture and rugs of the Marshall Arms. All he’s got to do is stick himself in the arm. Of course, I’m not sayin’ that’s all there is to it, Charlie … not after this morning.”

“That’s when they found the bridgework?”

“This morning, Charlie. At eleven-oh-five.”

“In the incinerator?”

“Hell, no; they haven’t even got the grates cool for the lab men yet. Haskins’ upper plate was found by the assistant superintendent three days ago on the basement floor … right near the manhole cover of the incinerator. But it’s only when he reads in the papers all this stuff about Haskins bein’ threatened by Willy and the fact that the guy is missing, that suddenly he wonders about them teeth and walks over to the station house this Aye Em.”

“The teeth belonged to Haskins?”

“Identified by his dentist, yes, with charts to prove it. An’ there’s blood on the incinerator cover — half washed away, careless like, so that some of it shows up under the glass. Same type as in the apartment, an’ there’s stains in the freight elevator too. It’s the self-service-push-a-button type, you know, and the lieutenant, with his big brain well, naturally, he’s got Willy takin’ the corpse down in the middle of the night — that wouldn’t be too hard — an’ dumpin’ it through the manhole cover. The upper plate? That’s one of them little ironies that murderers have to put up with, the lieutenant says. Mr. Haskins’ upper plate, accordin’ to him, just dropped out unnoticed while Willy was luggin’ the body.”

“Well,” said Officer McEvoy, “I got to shove off, Wilbur. Merry Christmas, if I don’t see ya.”

Wilbur cased the crowd for larceny and lighter mischief with that celebrated eye and memory for faces that had once caused police reporters to refer to him as “Elephant” Gilhouly. Plain-Clothes Man Kaplan, his driver, drove up in the squad car. He was young, unburdened by responsibility, and in possession of a brooch for his girlfriend. It was a lovely item, worth a month’s pay anyhow, and Wilbur reflected, without bitterness, that in his own position, as the loving husband of one and the doting father of four, he had to face the fiscal realities. He had eighty-seven dollars and forty-three cents, and a stern note from a finance company whose kind facilities it had never been his intention to abuse.

“I think maybe I’ll step over to Jablonski’s for a minute,” Wilbur said. “Don’t take any wooden lieutenants; we got one already.”

At Jablonski’s Junior Joyland, Wilbur, on tiptoe, caught the attention of Mr. Jablonski. Mr. Jablonski, who gave a substantial discount to cops and firemen, said, “I got it,” and passed to Wilbur, over people’s heads, $28.74 worth of railroad, in a box — $28.74, that is, with the discount. “What it cost me,” said Mr. Jablonski.

The trains were for little Wilbur, nine. He bought a doll’s house then for his daughter Mavis, a puppet show for Agnes-Mae, and a construction set for Edwin. And then, because — well, because love still beat more strongly in his breast than prudence, he went to a division of Jablonski’s Junior Joyland known as Mommy’s Mart, and made a twenty-two-dollar down payment on a portable, kitchen-size washing machine for Myrtle, his wife, and the one true love of his life. He would call back for the washing machine, he explained to Mr. Jablonski; the other packages he’d take.

“This is a general clearance or you would not of got such bargains,” said Mr. Jablonski. “We will be open till midnight. Come in again; tell your friends.”

Wilbur, with his packages chin-high, moved bravely toward the sidewalk. Jablonski’s, he noted, though a humble establishment, was graced by a better upholstered and more firmly bearded St. Nicholas than most. Wilbur found this somehow reassuring, though his vision was limited. He walked into a mailbox and his packages tumbled. He bent to retrieve them. He heard a mirthless and familiar voice.

“Santa’s li’l’ helper?” someone said.

Well, that was Lieutenant Decker for you. Always the sarcasm, be it Christmas or doomsday.

“What’s your explanation, Gilhouly?”

Wilbur tried to smile. He indicated the packages. “I’m just mindin’ these things for some friends, lieutenant.”

“What friends?”

“Well, my kids,” Wilbur said, then met the other’s cold gaze more steadily. “My kids are my friends,” he said with pride. The truth, after all, was a matter precious to Wilbur.

“You’re a wise guy, Gilhouly?”

“No, sir.” He placed his packages in the squad car.

“Well, Gilhouly,” Lieutenant Decker said. “against my better judgment they set bail for Willy Kleebs. You an’ that judge down at Special Sessions should have your skulls scraped.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You an’ Kleebs was always pretty chummy, Gilhouly. How well did you know him?”

“I’ve known him both in line of duty,” said Wilbur truthfully, “and after hours. I locked him up four times for makin’ book, and he is Agnes-Mae’s godfather. Look, lieutenant, have you checked the guy’s wife?”

“I personally put through the check on the widow, Gilhouly. A fine-type woman. Unimpeachable. A Vassar girl. We had a nice talk about some cultural matters … Take that silly grin off your puss!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Here are your orders, then. Kleebs right now is next door in the Marshall Arms Barbershop for a several-times-over. I want you to watch every place he goes, with regular reports to me. You an’ Kaplan, don’t let him out of your sight! That clear, Gilhouly?”

The lieutenant strode indignantly away. Wilbur and Kaplan moved over to the barbershop window. Willy Kleebs appeared to be taking the full six-dollar treatment in the No. 1 chair. He waved gaily to Wilbur and Kaplan.

“He never dropped nobody into no oven,” Wilbur said.

“Howja do at Jablonski’s, Wilbur?” Kaplan asked. “Any good?”

“Take a look for yourself. There’s nothin’ like havin’ a family, my boy. Take a look in the back of the car.”

In the No. 1 chair, Willy Kleebs wore a look of deep content. Good old Willy, always smiling — good times, bad times, always the same old Willy. Kaplan called to Wilbur from the curb.

“You put them in the back of the car? What car?”

“Right there. In the back.” He walked over to the car, looked in. The back of the car was empty.

“They ain’t here,” Plain-Clothes Man Kaplan said.

Wilbur smiled weakly. It was a joke. I’m laughing, Wilbur thought. But the brutal truth prevailed.

“Gone,” said Kaplan. “Like I toldja.”

“Eighty-one dollars,” Wilbur said. His senses reeled. Jablonski’s Santa Claus kept ringing his bell and chewing his gum. Wilbur, a tall man, turned dismayed eyes on the multitude. He saw no one sprinting through traffic with a doll’s house and assorted lumps of joy. He wanted to cry. This was Gilhouly, the good provider, with six dollars and some cents remaining, and a week late with the finance company. This was Gilhouly, the —

“Wil-bur-r-r!” Kaplan called from the plate-glass window of the barbershop. Wilbur walked over. “Look,” said Kaplan.

The No. 1 barber chair was empty. Willy Kleebs was gone.

…

It was not easy in the station house to stand before your fellow officers while Lieutenant Decker peeled your dignity away — artfully and easily, like the skin of a scalded peach.

“I always knew you were a whale of a fellow, Gilhouly,” the lieutenant said. “I could tell it by the blubber in your head.”

Less loyal comrades snickered; others looked away. The lieutenant was in the process of enjoying himself.

“I would say, Gilhouly, that it’s gonna be strictly brass buttons an’ blue coat from here in. Staten Island, maybe, or the Bronx frontier, where we can push you inta Yonkers.”

Wilbur dropped his eyes. You took it, that was all. He could remember the last time he’d been threatened with a return to uniform. His wife had stemmed her tears. “Wilbur,” she had said with priceless loyalty, “you look beautiful in blue.”

Early-winter’s darkness was over the town as Wilbur left the station house with Kaplan. Lights were everywhere, though it was only five o’clock. They came to where the squad car still stood parked before Jablonski’s.

Wilbur was watching Jablonski’s Santa Claus, whose face he had not had a chance to view at leisure until now. He stepped closer, examining minutely, and with small attempt at politeness, Santa’s rosy cheeks. Into operation came the old Gilhouly intuition. Wilbur moved and Santa jumped. Wilbur caught old Santa by the beard.

“Legomme!” Santa shouted.

But Wilbur clung tenaciously. He pulled the beard the length of the elastic, then let it snap.

Old Santa howled. “Legomme! Cudditout!”

It was not really Santa. It was a man named Mutuel Minskoff, who worked for Willy Kleebs. “What I thought,” said Wilbur.

Mutuel Minskoff was a bookmaker’s runner, which is no kind of Santa Claus at all, but one who takes bets on horses. Wilbur shook Jablonski’s Santa Claus.

“Where’s Willy Kleebs?” he demanded. “Where’s them packages you stole out of the car?”

“Honest, Wilbur — honesta me mother’s grave, I don’t know what you’re sayin’!”

Wilbur, with Kaplan’s assistance, pushed Mutuel Minskoff into the car. Wilbur stretched the beard’s elastic its full, intimidating length. “You gonna tell me?”

“We have little or nothing to say to one another,” Mutuel said with dignity, “except that I don’t like your attitude.”

Wilbur let the beard snap. He was not a man disposed toward cruel means of persuasion, but he was nonetheless determined.

“Let’s get it straight, Minskoff,” Wilbur said. “A fifty-dollar-per-diem wise guy like yourself don’t become a ten-dollar St. Nicholas because he likes to get stuck in chimneys. Well, do you?”

“This is our slack season, Wilbur.”

“Never mind that. Where is Willy Kleebs?”

“He went to visit his ninety-three-year-old mother in the Bronx.”

“Where’bouts in the Bronx?”

“That’s one of those things Willy has always kept to himself,” said Mutuel Minskoff, “an’ the little old lady don’t know he’s in trouble with the cops, you understand? In fact, she thinks that Willy’s in the feed-an’-grain trade.”

“You’re lyin’, Minskoff,” Wilbur said, but he did not really believe the man was lying. It sounded like Willy, all right. He restrained Plain-Clothes Man Kaplan from snapping the beard again. “I’m asking you, Mutuel, Number One — who stole my packages? I am asking you, Number Two — why you been standing all day in front of Jablonski’s making like an elk driver?”

“As for the packages, Wilbur, believe me, I dunno. As for Point Number Two, I’ve been watchin’ for Tax Agent Haskins. Willy didn’t kill ’im. I been waitin’ here for Haskins because we know he’s got to come back.”

“Come back for what?”

“Haskins made one mistake, Wilbur. Just like he dropped his upper plate next to the incinerator on purpose, he also drops somethin’ else in Willy’s suite, but not on purpose.”

“What did he drop?”

“He dropped his safe-deposit-box keys, Wilbur. A whole ring o’ them, he dropped. You get it? Haskins is a crook. An’ where does a crook with a big wad o’ dough an’ a small pay check hide this embarrassin’ disparity of means? In safe-deposit boxes, don’t he? In eight different banks, under eight different names.”

“You know this? You’re not lyin’ to me, Minskoff?”

“Here,” said Mutuel Minskoff, “are the keys. Understand, they’ve just got numbers on them an’ we don’t know what banks, an’ we don’t know what names this guy is usin’. All we know is he has got to get them keys.”

“Why didn’t Willy come to the police with these?”

“Willy sees that with Decker on the case, an’ blabbin’ like he does, there might be talk in the papers the cops have got a certain set of keys, an’ this Haskins will just take off like a bluebird. Willy would like to catch Haskins himself. Willy is an honest man what pays his taxes, but this guy not only tries to shake ‘im down, he owes ’im maybe twenty grand on horse bets.”

“Tell more, Mutuel. Tell all.”

“Well, Wilbur, we figured that Haskins, the crook, wanted to lam for liberty before the tax department caught on to the size of his personal assets. So what’s a better way to get off with a bundle o’ dough an’ not be tailed than to have yourself declared murdered? That’s why he sets up this frame about Willy, an’ why your friend, the lieutenant, begins to drool about maybe he can have Willy measured for that warm chair up in Ossining. You get it?”

“It happens also to have been my personal theory,” said Wilbur modestly. “Except, of course, I never knew about the keys. You better hand ’em over to me like a good boy, Mutuel. Thass right. Now get back on the job; keep ringin’ that bell … And, Kaplan,” he said, “you keep an eye on Santa.”

This was Gilhouly, the hound of justice, on the scent. The Hotel Marshall Arms, set in the shopping district of New York, was vast, commercial, and of wholesome reputation. In the plaza, as he entered, Wilbur rejoiced at the Christmas tree that rose gigantically for several floors — its glowing lights bespeaking warmth and good cheer in a cold and unbelieving world. Willy Kleebs’ suite, where Wilbur thought a little look around might help, was on the seventh floor.

“Where’s the cop they had watchin’ this suite?” he asked the bellhop who let him in by means of a key.

“The lieutenant said there was no pernt to it,” the bellhop reported. “The lieutenant sent ’im after bundle snatchers.” The bellhop, with a taste for police procedure, hovered.

“Blow,” said Wilbur. “Get lost, sonny.”

Wilbur closed the door behind him and was immediately aware of another’s presence. A woman wearing an apron and a somewhat guilty look was dusting, or at least appeared to be dusting, in the sitting room. “This place is under surveillance,” Wilbur said. “Who are you?”

“Why, Mr. Kleebs always lets me have a key to do the cleaning,” the lady said. Her apron was ruffled and unspotted. She had a way of placing hands on hips that bespoke some gayer setting and invoked old memories of action that had nothing to do with dustpans. She looked more like a cupcake to Wilbur than she looked like somebody’s mother rubbing honest knuckles raw. “If you’ll excuse me — ”

“One minute,” Wilbur said. The files of his memory were opening. “Hold on, lady.” He could smell clams, somehow. Why clams? Coney Island? No, it wasn’t Coney Island. Brighton Beach? Not Brighton either. Then it snapped. It came to him. “Hello, Kitty,” Wilbur said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Gypsy Kitty Klein, from Rockaway Park. Used to tell fortunes for a thief named Hennessey. Must be fifteen years since I locked ’im up. You lookin’ for something, Kitty?”

“Officer,” said Gypsy Kitty, “you are playing the wrong trombone. Now, if you don’t mind — ”

“Lookin’ for some safe-deposit-box keys, Kitty?” Wilbur was swinging in the dark, but batting rather well. The proper button had been pressed. “You couldn’t by any chance be Mrs. Albert Haskins, could you? The Vassar girl? The little widow who had the nice cultural chat with the lieutenant?”

“As a matter of fact, I was really only — ”

“Don’t apologize, an’ don’t get excited, Kitty, because — well, about those keys; Homicide ain’t even heard o’ them. Me, Gilhouly; I got the keys, an — ”

“Don’t move, Gilhouly! Stay where you are!” The voice was authoritative. Wilbur did not move. Albert Haskins, with a .38 revolver, spoke distinctly, even minus his upper plate. Wilbur did not move, because his own gun lay deep in the cold-weather bunting he had neglected to unbutton. “Hands higher, Gilhouly … Frisk him, Katherine,” said Haskins to the cupcake.

Mrs. Haskins unbuttoned Wilbur’s winter ulster and rapidly divested him of firearms. She went through his jacket and its inner pockets, searching for the safe-deposit keys, without first having cased the crumpled overcoat that lay on the floor.

“Take off your jacket,” Haskins ordered. “Now your shirt.” Haskins waved his revolver convincingly. “Your pants, Gilhouly!” he commanded.

Wilbur, standing in his underwear, said, “This has gone far enough!” He said this just as Mrs. Haskins, retrieving his coat from the floor, shook it lightly once or twice and heard the jingle of keys. This was defeat, abject and full.

“Look out in the hall,” Haskins said to his synthetic widow. Gypsy Kitty gaped out, then motioned all was clear. Albert Haskins put the cool hard metal of his .38 against the warm hard head of Detective Gilhouly and escorted him uncompromisingly along the empty corridor, while Mrs. Haskins flipped a key in the lock of a door marked PORTER. Wilbur, about to spring into desperate action, went quietly to slumberland as something crashed against his head.

I am dead, thought Wilbur; dead in the chill grave. He heard somebody groaning next to him. I am here, he corrected himself, in the porter’s room, and in my underwear, but I am not alone. He rose unsteadily and stood in heavy darkness that was not illumined by the flashes that kept going off in his skull. He found a switch and snapped it on. At his feet lay Mutuel Minskoff in his Santa Claus suit, beard and all. Wilbur tried the door, but it would not yield. He looked about for some suitable means to persuade it. He looked, as well, at Santa.

In the street, by now, Plain-Clothes Man Kaplan was confused. Bitterly he reflected you could trust nobody — not even Santa Claus or your esteemed good friend, Gilhouly. That Minskoff, in particular, had shattered solemn trust, the dog, but here Plain-Clothes Man Kaplan paused. It seemed to him that he saw Minskoff now race wildly through the plaza of the Hotel Marshall Arms, arms waving, shouting.

“The hell ya do!” Plain-Clothes Man Kaplan said. He interfered with Santa’s headlong haste. He teed off with his strong right arm and pulled off Old Santa’s beard. Old Santa tripped and looked up from the pavement, short of cheer.

“That’s a nice thing to do,” said Wilbur Gilhouly. “A nice way, Kaplan, I must say, to implement the law.”

The lieutenant postulated. He asked, of all who were there to listen, the one seemingly relevant question: “How crazy can you get?” And, Wilbur, beardless, but in his red-and-ermine suit, seemed a fairly apt reply.

“Albert Haskins is alive,” Wilbur repeated. He had stated this without compromise at least one hundred times. “I seen him. He hit me in back of the head. He locked me in a room. Him an’ his wife. She used to be known as Gypsy Kitty Kl — ”

“My dear Gilhouly,” the lieutenant interrupted, “did you see all these interesting things before or after you got slugged in the head? Did Kaplan see Haskins? … Did you, Kaplan?”

“No, sir,” Kaplan was obliged to say, but he was sorry for Wilbur. “All I seen was this Mutuel Minskoff.”

“And where is Minskoff?”

“Like I said before,” said Wilbur, “he was with me in the porter’s room. I had no clothes on and — All right laugh; laugh, all of you! So I had no clothes on, an’ I had to get out of there. I don’t know what happened to Mutuel after that. I took his suit an’ I — ”

“Gilhouly!” the lieutenant said with sudden fierceness. “How much in cash did Minskoff and Willy Kleebs pay you to concoct this story?”

Wilbur leaped to his feet in anger. His doubled fists and squared jaw made Lieutenant Decker blanch. Inspector Gerhardt, until now quietly sitting by, at this point intervened.

“That will be enough for now, lieutenant,” the inspector said. “I happen to know Gilhouly’s record.” A kindly man, he walked over and examined the back of Wilbur’s head. “A severe blow of this kind can induce all kinds of impressions in a man’s mind,” the inspector said. “Don’t try to think now, Gilhouly. After all, we just now combed the hotel with a flock of cops. We’ve got men in the lobby and at the rear and side exits. The trouble is, Gilhouly, that your story’s not standing up. There’s no sign of Haskins, if he’s alive, and there is no sign of Minskoff. There is nothing in our available files — well, tonight, at least — to support what you say about Mrs. Haskins’ past record. Are you suffering from any personal troubles, Gilhouly?”

“No, sir.” He glanced at the clock. He shrugged. He smiled resignedly. “Three hours to Christmas, an’ I’m supposed to be home by now … You mind if I phone my wife?” he asked. “It’s only a nickel call.

“ … Merry Christmas, darling!” Myrtle said. “Whatever’s been keeping you? … You’re what, dear?”

“All loused up,” said Wilbur. “I thought I oughta tell you I am strictly a crushed cornucopia, baby … Somebody swiped the packages … You what? You ain’t sore? … An’ I can’t get away just now; it seems — ”

“I will be right down,” Mrs. Gilhouly said. “I will be right down in a half hour, Wilbur, to meet you. Don’t you worry … The children? Well, your sister Marge is here.”

Wilbur and Kaplan sat alone in the room. Time passed. There would be further questioning, the inspector had said, when he was able to piece all the claims and counterclaims together, but there did not seem much sense in keeping eight men at the Marshall Arms much longer in pursuit of the unestablished ashes or person of Albert Haskins. Not tonight, of all nights. There was, to be sure, an emergency call from the Hotel Marshall Arms, but it did not concern the detective bureau. The lights of the giant Christmas tree had been shorted; there had been sparks. There was always the hazard of fire.

Wilbur walked to the window and looked up at the star. “Kappy,” he said, “do you believe in miracles?”

“Yes,” said Kaplan; “from now on, anyhow. Turn around, Wilbur. Turn around slowly.”

Wilbur turned. He saw. framed in the wide door of the room, Tax Agent Albert Haskins. Mr. Haskins was in the safekeeping of the emergency squad. Inspector Gerhardt stood with them.

“This,” said the inspector, “is what shorted the circuit on the Christmas tree. It seems he jumped into it from a third-floor window when all those cops were arriving to check on Wilbur’s story. His idea was to cover himself with decorations, then climb down later, I guess, but it got cold up there and he must have been stamping his feet. Anyhow, he blew the lights and put a nice shock into himself. It wasn’t till the lights came on again that the boys could see him hangin’ there like a peppermint stick. We thought maybe you would like to drop him in the lieutenant’s stocking, Gilhouly.”

Wilbur approached Tax Agent Haskins without malice. He touched the lump behind his ear, and then touched Mr. Haskins, to be sure that he was real. He wasn’t even mad at the lieutenant.

“As for small details,” the inspector said a little later, “we can attend to them in due time. We’re picking up Mrs. Haskins and a porter who was in cahoots with them. You were right, Gilhouly, from the beginning, but the way I figure it, tonight a family man’s got things to do.”

It was a clear night. It was cold and framed in beauty. There were lights in the sky and in the Marshall Arms Hotel and in Jablonski’s Junior Joyland. Mr. Jablonski himself stood on the curb with Willy Kleebs.

“Merry Christmas,” said Willy, “to you and yours, Wilbur, from me an’ my ol’ lady … Good evenin’, Mrs. Gilhouly.

Out of the shadows now, wearing a borrowed overcoat above a porter’s uniform that fitted him like a green banana; Mutuel Minskoff emerged.

“I never deserted ya, Wilbur,” Mutuel said. “Willy came back and I told him you were in trouble, an’ when we got here, there’s this Haskins, like a two-legged mistletoe, hangin’ from the tree. We forgot to kiss ’im.”

“Excuse me,” said Mr. Jablonski, “but if you will kindly look in the car, Mr. Gilhouly. A doll’s house, a puppet show, a construction set and electric trains yet. And on the side of the car, Mrs. Gilhouly, tied like a moose, a washing machine … except it is the full-size model, not the portable, mind you.”

Wilbur stammered. Wilbur tried to protest. “Look, boys, it’s sweet, but I can’t be bribed. You must understand it.”

“At Jablonski’s Joyland,” said Mr. Jablonski, “it’s a general clearance, and besides, I just got paid by a certain party. And what is more, Gilhouly, the inspector knows about it. He says you should kindly shaddup your face while Kaplan drives you home.”

The bells in the church were tolling as Kaplan started the car. They tolled the rich, good message of two thousand years, and Wilbur’s heart was full. Mrs. Gilhouly, a bit snug in the front seat with Plain-Clothes Man Kaplan and her husband, reached for Wilbur’s hand. “I wonder where,” she said, “at this hour, dear, we could find you another beard.”

Featured image: Illustration by Paul Nonnast (©SEPS)

Ask the Manners Guy: Family Food Fight

We have a huge traditional holiday get-together, and my mother, who passed away this year, always made (everyone’s favorite) apple pie. My sister and I both want to make the pie this year as a tribute to the longtime matriarch of the family, but we can’t agree on who will do the honors. It’s getting bitter, verging on nasty. Help!

—Casey Chalmers, Toluca Lake, California

The stress of such a great loss can bring family conflicts to a head, especially around the holidays. But you don’t want to let sibling tensions spoil such an important family gathering. Do the right thing and relinquish the pie-making duties to your sister. Focus on another tradition you can start all your own. Can you knit stockings for new members of the family? Bake a different classic dessert? And how about preparing a loving toast as your own tribute to your mother? Remember, it’s not about the pies, but rather about the stability she gave to the clan. That’s a responsibility you can easily share with your sister if you lead the way.

The Manners Guy is a former bartender who knows his way around awkward social situations. Send your questions to [email protected].

This article is featured in the November/December 2019 issue of The Saturday Evening Post. Subscribe to the magazine for more art, inspiring stories, fiction, humor, and features from our archives.

Featured image: (Lewis Tse Pui Lung /Shutterstock.com)

The OTHER Classic Christmas Movies

You know It’s a Wonderful Life and Miracle on 34th Street; you know A Christmas Story and Meet Me in St. Louis.” There’s certainly an authentic canon of Christmas and holiday films in the American library of classics. However, in recent years, other films that take place at Christmas has become something of an ongoing cocktail party discussion. Here are 10 Other Christmas Classics.

10. The French Connection (1971)

The trailer for The French Connection. (Uploaded to YouTube by Movieclips Classic Trailers)

Your first thoughts of The French Connection are probably “that car chase” or the boatload of awards it won (which included Oscars for Best Picture, Director, Actor for Gene Hackman, Editing, and Adapted Screenplay). But if you recall the opening, it features Hackman’s Popeye Doyle getting involved in a police action while wearing a seasonally appropriate stakeout disguise: a Santa Claus suit.

9. Edward Scissorhands (1990)

The trailer for Edward Scissorhands. (Uploaded to YouTube by Movieclips Classic Trailers)

The first of eight (and counting) collaborations between director Tim Burton and actor Johnny Depp, Edward Scissorhands is another of Burton’s dark outsider fables. The titular Edward was built by an elderly inventor (Vincent Price, in his final role) who gave him his special hands for utilitarian purposes; unfortunately, the old man dies before he can give Edward regular hands. Discovered by Peg Boggs (Dianne Wiest), he’s brought to live in the Boggs home where he falls in love with their daughter, Kim (Winona Ryder). Much of the movie is a satire of suburbia and conformity, but things that a turn for the Gothic during a fateful Christmas season. The amalgam of tragic circumstances, the Frankenstein-esque reaction of the neighborhood, and Burton’s visuals tie this off as a dark parable that’s inextricably bound to the holiday.

8. Better Off Dead (1985)

The trailer for Better Off Dead. (Uploaded to YouTube by HD Retro Trailers)

This one belongs in the class of “Movies That Probably Wouldn’t Get Made Today.” It certainly has a controversial premise; after aspiring skier Lane Myer (John Cusack) is dumped by his girlfriend for the captain of the ski team, he makes numerous attempts to kill himself before realizing that there’s more to life than his ex. Of course, the approach of the movie is so off-the-wall and Lane’s “attempts” so patently absurd that it stays deeply in the comedy pocket, even with an incredibly serious issue underneath. One of the comic highlights is the extended, and painful, Christmas celebration at the Meyer home wherein Lane’s mom (Kim Darby) sports a bizarre reindeer suit and passes out gifts like frozen dinners.

7. The Harry Potter Series (2001-2011)

The trailer for Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. (Uploaded to YouTube by Movieclips Classic Trailers)

You might be taken aback by two things here, but yes, it HAS been eight years since the last of the original series, and yes, it fits the parameters. Why? With the exception of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, which takes place in the latter half of what would have been Harry’s seventh school year at Hogwart’s, each film (like the novels) devotes a not-insignificant section of time to Christmas. The fact that Harry gets any presents at all is a big deal in the first movie, and we later see him spending time with the Weasleys over the holidays as well. The series uses Christmas as a focal point to drive home the idea that Harry has managed to assemble a “found family” and an extensive band of allies.

6. Trading Places (1983)

The trailer for Trading Places. (Uploaded to YouTube by Movieclips Classic Trailers)

Who can forget the sight of a drunken Dan Aykroyd in his filthy Santa suit? SNL alum Aykroyd and then-cast member Eddie Murphy powered this socially-aware comedy to box office gold in 1983. And while the plot turns mostly on scheming in the commodities trades and the disruptions caused by Murphy and Aykroyd’s life exchanges, the holiday piece plays a part, particularly in Louis’s (Aykroyd’s) spiral into depression.

5. Gremlins (1984)

The trailer for Gremlins. (Uploaded to YouTube by Movieclips Classic Trailers)

One in a class of horror films that’s inextricably linked to Christmas, but doesn’t abjectly state it (as opposed to the various versions of Black Christmas or the inexplicably-became-a-franchise Silent Night, Deadly Night movies), Gremlins turns on the notion of a bumbling inventor dad getting a last-minute gift for his adult son that turns out to be the adorable Mogwai named Gizmo. Of course, rules are broken and Gremlins are created to the backdrop of well-used holiday tunes and settings, including a Christmas tree ambush. The story could certainly be set at another time of year, but it would lack the resonance of things like the playing of “Do You Hear What I Hear?” leading up to the immortal kitchen battle.

4. Eyes Wide Shut (1999)

The trailer for Eyes Wide Shut. (Uploaded to YouTube by Movieclips Classic Trailers)

Stanley Kubrick’s final film, a rumination on faith, faithlessness, and the secrets that couples keep from one another, is set against the backdrop of Christmas. The yuletide trappings add despondence to the whole affair, but also provide the elements for a somewhat hopeful final scene. Most of the press for the film centered on the fact that it was a sort of erotic thriller starring the then-married Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman, but it’s more of a psychological experiment; in fact, the story was based on the Austrian book Traumnovelle, which literally means “Dream Story.”

3. Iron Man 3 (2013)

Trailer for Iron Man 3. (Uploaded to YouTube by Marvel Entertainment)

Much like Tim Burton, writer/director Shane Black loves the holidays. Like, really, REALLY loves the holidays. He’s made Christmas central to Lethal Weapon, Edge, The Long Kiss Goodnight, and Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, and he does so in Iron Man 3 as well. Black’s film is, in part, an extended commentary on PTSD; Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) is suffering in the aftermath of the Battle of New York from Avengers, and, like many sad feelings, the holiday only seems to make it worse. Along the way, Christmas music and decorations play ongoing roles, and Stark finds himself in snowy Tennessee for chunk of the film. Thematically, we also see how Stark’s constant attempts at overcompensating (his obsession with upgrading his armors, the giant plush he gets Pepper) highlight his own blind spots at dealing with his issues. He does get in a lovely gift note near the end of the film, when Stark leaves young tech fan Harley Kenner (Ty Simpkins) a roomful of gadgets and gear.

2. Batman Returns (1992)

(Uploaded to YouTube by DC)

The first three Batman films of the Tim Burton/Joel Schumacher era all involved some kind of celebration; Batman had the Gotham Centennial and Batman Forever had Halloween, but Batman Returns claims Christmas. Anyone who’s paid attention to Burton’s work knows that he’s returned more than once to the melancholy notes of the season (which we’ll get to a bit later), but that is well and truly layered throughout this film. Part of the emphasis on winter in Gotham is due to the role of the Penguin, but other themes, like the sexism that surrounds the life of Selina Kyle/Catwoman, work into the narrative; Burton manages to combine them in the final conversation between Alfred and Bruce Wayne. When Alfred wishes the hero a Merry Christmas, Wayne, pondering the events of the film, replies, “Merry Christmas, Alfred. Good will toward men . . . and women.”

1. Die Hard (1988)

The original trailer for Die Hard. (Uploaded to YouTube by Movieclips Classic Trailers.)

Die Hard is, was, and always will be the standard-bearer for non-Christmas Christmas movies. Ostensibly, it’s an action film, with New York cop John McClane (Bruce Willis) trying to save his wife and her fellow hostages from a band of well-armed thieves led by Hans Gruber (Alan Rickman) in Nakatomi Tower (really Fox Plaza) in L.A. From the music over the opening and closing of the film, from the fact that the action centers around a Christmas Eve party, and for dozens of other tiny reasons, this is most certainly a Christmas movie. The final line of dialogue even emphasizes the fact, with Argyle the limo driver speculating on what a McClane New Year’s celebration must be like. And how can you forget one of the most iconic “bad guy kills” in movies: “Now I have a machine gun, too. Ho Ho Ho.”

Featured image: (20th Century Fox; Atlaspix / Alamy Stock Photo)

Planning the Perfect Holiday Vacation

A holiday trip is a gift to yourself or even the whole family. Sleigh rides, Christmas markets, and hotels sparkling with twinkling lights…the holiday season is full of festive ways to celebrate, near and far. Maybe you’ve tired of tradition and are looking to escape Old Man Winter. Or maybe you want to gather your far-off family somewhere special. Pack away the hassles of hosting over the holidays by ringing in the New Year at one of these festive destinations.

A German Weihnachten

Germany’s simply wunderbar over the holidays. Enjoy a hot cup of glühwein and roasted almonds while strolling the Christmas market stalls filled with handmade ornaments and toys. A tradition that began in German-speaking parts of Europe back in the Middle Ages, the markets run for the four weeks of Advent leading up to Christmas, and usually end December 22 or 23. Found all over Germany, some Christmas markets (Weihnachtsmarkts) seem to truly shine. Stuttgart has one of the oldest (dating back to the 1600s!) and has an over-the-top New Year’s Eve celebration, which Germans call Silvester. Stuttgart’s WaldHotel is a historic favorite near the city center.

The historic town of Heidelberg also turns up the gemütlichkeit over the holidays. Follow the cobblestone streets to Karlsplatz, where you can ice skate with a view of the 13th century castle illuminated high up on the hill. Stay at the Europaischer Hof. For more than 150 years it’s been the grande dame of Heidelberg. Indulge in finger sandwiches and scones at Sunday’s high tea.

Spirit of Santa Fe

“Red, green, or Christmas?” That’s what you’re asked each time you sit down for a meal in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Although it is the time of year for festive conversation, this question has nothing to do with holiday decor. It’s all about the chiles, the ubiquitous culinary symbol of this southwestern town.

The city’s unique blend of Indian and Hispanic culture is reflected in the seasonal traditions so different from the rest of the U.S. Farolitos, candles placed in paper bags, light up the night as they line the walkways and rooftops of the adobe homes and Spanish style churches, giving the city an even more spiritual quality than it normally has. New age is old school in this town, where generations have embraced everything from yoga and meditation to holistic medicine. But during the holidays, the spirit of Christmas takes over the town, where long-held Catholic traditions are still observed.

Want to stay in the heart of Santa Fe, directly on the Plaza, surrounded by restaurants, museums and shops? Choose La Fonda, with its beautiful art, outdoor pool and Jacuzzi, and chic western and Native American themed furnishings. Want to start your day like a local? Head to Tia Sofia’s. Local leaders and politicians gather each morning at this iconic favorite, home of the breakfast burrito.

Consider the Caribbean

This isn’t your classic Christmas, but a great choice if you’d like to trade tradition (maybe even snow) for warm island breezes. There are 26 different island nations in the Caribbean, but many are off the radar for most tourists. Want to avoid hordes of cruise ship passengers? Set a course for one of the Caribbean’s best kept secrets… the tiny Southern Caribbean island nation of Grenada, in the Windward Islands. There are direct flights to Grenada from New York, Charlotte, and Miami.

Natural beauty abounds, from white sand beaches to lush mountains and tropical waterfalls. Called the Spice Island for its abundance of nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, and ginger, culinary traditions are influenced by the various cultures that have settled this British Commonwealth over the centuries. Mix with locals, enjoy live music and sample first-rate home cooking on Wednesday nights at the Dodgy Dock street food festival at the funky True Blue Bay Resort.

Christmas customs vary throughout the Caribbean. Every island has catchy Calypso versions of yuletide songs played on steel pans, but Grenada is proud of their unique musical tradition known as Parang— Grenadian carols sung in groups, accompanied by drums, maracas, tambourines, and more.

Some traditions are universal though. Santa shows up at the swanky Silversands Grenada, home to the longest pool in the Caribbean. No need for Santa? Consider the adults-only all-inclusive Sandals Resort. Activities like snorkeling, sailing, even scuba diving, are all complimentary.

Classic Christmas in Montana

Dreaming of a white Christmas with breathtaking mountains? Big Sky Country has a blizzard of activities to get you in the holiday spirit. The casual college town of Missoula charms with cute shops and nearby downhill skiing. A half hour away, The Resort at Paws Up is western luxury at its finest. A holiday vacation here comes with all the trimmings… cookie decorating, a gingerbread house contest, and horse-drawn sleigh rides. They’ll even deliver a tree to your luxury cabin, set it up by the fireplace and have Santa show up with presents on Christmas morning. Hanukkah dinners and events are also available.

Paws Up sits on a working cattle ranch, offering plenty of outdoor adventures. Explore miles of snowy trails via dog sled, horseback, snowmobile, or cross-country skis. Even though it’s a ranch, don’t expect franks-n-beans. Atlanta James Beard Award winner and Top Chef finalist Kevin Gillespie comes to cook on December 26th and Chicago’s James Beard Award-winning pastry chef Mindy Segal is cooking New Year’s Day brunch.

Viva Mexico

Being a predominantly Catholic country, Christmas in Mexico is a big deal. One beloved holiday tradition is the posada— processions of Joseph and Mary’s arrival in Bethlehem aboard a donkey. Christmas is celebrated on December 24th with traditional foods like ponche, a Mexican version of a hot toddy, and a sweet bread called rosca de reyes. The bread contains small figurines of Jesus, and the person who discovers the figure in their portion is expected to hold a party on February 2nd. Mariachi bands playing Christmas carols add to the lively festivities.

The Spanish colonial town of San Miguel de Allende is a charming choice, but being three-and-a-half hours from the Mexico City Airport, it can be tough to get to. Staying at one of the beach towns just minutes from the Cancun Airport might be more manageable, especially if you’re gathering a large group. Affordable non-stop flights from throughout the U.S. add to the ease of Cancun.

Larger groups will love all-inclusives like the beachfront Grand Residences Riviera Cancun, with everything from standard rooms to three bedroom suites. There’s a complimentary kids club and free activities for adults as well, including cooking classes, tennis lessons, and bicycle tours to the nearby fishing village. Kids and grandkids will have proof Santa can find them anywhere when he arrives at the hotel on Christmas Day.

 

Featured image: Heidelberg, Germany (photo courtesy Tobias Schwerdt).

A Case Against Gift Giving

A recent television commercial from Nordstrom features Dean Martin singing “Go Go Go Go” while excited shoppers dash-dance through the department store. “Let’s Go Gifting!” a graphic insists over footage of silvery presents being stacked to the heavens.

If Nordstrom represents the old guard of retail, the new face of the industry, Amazon, is moving forward in a similar vein. The online giant released a commercial this year in which its signature cardboard packages — likely to be holiday presents — are characters themselves, resurrecting The Jacksons’ 1981 song “Can You Feel It” to the delight of construction workers, children, and even Amazon’s own warehouse staff. “It,” in this scenario, is presumably some incarnation of holiday spirit, restored to all by the crooning of the comforting boxes.

These messages comprise a wintry backdrop in our culture that presents are inevitable and necessary for a normal December. It’s hardly a new phenomenon; we’ve been gifting for so long that it might be difficult to imagine a holiday season without it. But what if we stopped exchanging presents?

Okay, not entirely: we can still give presents to children. I’m not a jerk.

But the guilt-driven custom of holiday shopping has got to go. Aside from kids, many people don’t seem to enjoy receiving presents on the holidays anyways — or, at least, enough to justify our panic-induced shopping sprees the week before our ritualistic offerings at the fir shrine.

Anxiety over receiving gifts, which is linked to social anxiety, is more widespread than you might think. When I talked to friends and acquaintances, almost everyone expressed having some discomfort with opening presents in front of a crowd. The uncertainty, expectations, and inevitable feigned enthusiasm make the whole formality unbearable for, I suspect, a silent majority of receivers. A study in Psychological Science found that most people give gifts with the receiver’s immediate reaction in mind rather than their long-term satisfaction. In spite of our actual needs and wants, we end up with a flashy novelty that loses appeal quickly (see: selfie sticks and hands-free phone mounts).

“You get what you get, so don’t throw a fit,” as they say. What could a few impractical gifts hurt? In the bigger picture of the economy, it could actually inflate entire industries.

In his 2009 book Scroogenomics, economist Joel Waldfogel argues that holiday gift-giving is literal waste. Waldfogel looks at the annual December spike in retail sales (typically cheered by news stories each year), and asks about the cost of a gift versus the value of that gift to the receiver. For instance, if your aunt buys you Neiman Marcus Prosecco Bubble Bath for $38 but that product is only worth $20 to you, then there is a deadweight value loss of $18 (or 47.3 percent). He found that American gift giving destroys at least 13 percent of value. Given last year’s $691.9 billion spent on holiday retail, Waldfogel’s theory would predict that almost $90 billion in value was lost. This money doesn’t just disappear into thin air, but he maintains that the tradition of gift giving undermines an economic system’s ability to distribute products efficiently and create value.

But what if we do get cash for Christmas? Or, the most-requested gifts of late, gift cards? This not only confirms that gift giving in the 21st century amounts to passing currency back and forth, but it’s also wasteful. Just about every quality of the convenient and impersonal gift card exists to maximize profits for the respective company. About one billion dollars in gift card money goes unspent each year. Customers who use their cards in a store are more likely to spend their own money as well (about 20 percent more than the gift card amount), and if they don’t use the full amount on the card they’ll likely return. People are also two-and-a-half times more likely to pay full price with a gift card. The last pitfall is unique to the modern era: a gift card won’t work if the store goes under! Some unlucky schmucks are holding gift cards for Toys ’R’ Us right now that may as well be bookmarks.

“But this is all over-analytical conjecture,” you say. “You’re missing the true meaning of trading stuff,” or, getting to the heart of the matter, “What else are we supposed to do?”

The rampant materialism of the winter holidays does seem pretty entrenched, and that’s because it is. “Just as every generation imagines that it invented sex, every generation imagines that it invented the vulgar commercialization of Christmas,” Waldfogel writes in Scroogenomics. After looking at the holiday spending statistics of the last 100 years, he found that (with the exception of the Great Depression) numbers have remained comparable, and, in fact, we used to spend a larger portion of our smaller economy on the holidays.

That doesn’t mean we’re tethered to this inefficient and antiquated tradition forever, though. The elimination of adult-on-adult gift exchanging might take some time, but it could happen.

We could finally call our own bluff on our collective insistence that the true meaning of the holidays lies in good will towards Men instead of piles of stuff wrapped in shiny paper. Remember? The central lesson behind all of your favorite holiday lore?

As the anti-materialistic story of the Grinch has been rebooted for the big screen yet again, one must wonder whether the slew of new merchandise (like finger puppets, mugs, and those blessed plush toys) is what Dr. Seuss had in mind. Unlike the worlds of Amazon and Nordstrom advertisements, Whoville exists to meaningfully reflect our own best (and worst) instincts. When they discover their tricycles, popcorn, and plums are gone, the Whos still celebrate Christmas enthusiastically. Without presents, would we still be singing “Fahoo fores, dahoo dores”? There’s only one way to find out.

Vintage Christmas Cartoons

Christmas is almost here, and we hope these vintage cartoons fill you with cheer!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pixels of Christmas Past: The Biggest Video Game Crazes (Part 2)

With the holiday season upon us, it makes us think back to the toys and amusements of yesteryear. For every generation since the early 1970s, video games have grown from part of our common culture to something that can be an immersive and interactive ongoing experience. More popular than ever, video games are played by over 211 million Americans. With that in mind, here’s the second part of our look back on some of the biggest crazes to hit home video gaming. (You can read Part 1 here.)

1. Pokémon – 1996

What can you say about Pokémon? When you describe the franchise’s massive success, you start to run out of superlatives. Originally conceived as a pair of Nintendo GameBoy games, Pokémon has endured and achieved media dominance in console gaming, mobile gaming, collectible card gaming, toy sales, and animation. The simple conceit of catching monsters that will fight on your behalf in tournament settings has led to more than 300 million games sold in the broader series, with over 800 million mobile downloads on top of that. Nearly 28 billion (yes, billion) cards have been sold. There’s no sign that Pokémon will ever lose steam; along with two games released for Nintendo Switch in 2018, there’s a new live-action film arriving in 2019 while anime films and television episodes continue to be made. It is, quite simply, one of the most important and lucrative intellectual properties in the history of Earth.

2. Grand Theft Auto – 1997

You’re bound to generate controversy when your game gives players bonus points for running over people in a stolen police car. Such is the world of Grand Theft Auto, which can arguably be seen as a forerunner to the wave of anti-hero television that includes The Sopranos, The Shield, and Breaking Bad. In GTA, you’re a bad guy who works for criminals and racks up points by committing crimes and wreaking general havoc. In roughly a year, the game sold a million copies for PC and PlayStation, despite getting knocked for graphics that were considered subpar. However, by 2001’s GTA III, the new version would be earning rave reviews for looks, story, and concept while selling over 14 million copies. More than 20 years and many other installments and spin-offs later, fans eagerly await GTA VI, a wish that may come to fruition after their creators, Rockstar Games, finally finished and released the similarly acclaimed Red Dead Redemption II (which shipped over 17 million copies in two weeks).

3. Halo: Combat Evolved – 2001

It’s said that a new console needs that “Killer App” to be able to move units, that one game that makes it not only worthwhile, but maybe necessary, to own that system. Halo: Combat Evolved did the killing on behalf of Xbox. In Halo, you are Master Chief, a space marine in a powered suit of armor battling aliens on a mysterious outer space construct called Halo. The first-person-shooter scenario was powered by an inventive story with an interesting mythology, cool weapons, and action-filled gameplay. It spun off into a legit cultural phenomenon, with tie-in novels, comic books, and amazingly well-written trading cards from Topps. When Halo 2 dropped in 2004, it was an immediate and massive success, selling over six million copies in the United States and becoming one of the most popular multiplayer games of all time. At this writing, there are a dozen Halo games in circulation with another on the way.

4. Guitar Hero – 2005

Guitar Hero tapped into what Twisted Sister already knew: you wanna rock. Rooted in the appeal of whaling away on a mighty axe like Eddie Van Halen or Slash, Guitar Hero combined the rhythm game genre with the fantasy of being a rock star. The game also introduced some of the coolest peripherals ever in terms of the guitar controller. The series exploded in popularity early, and Activision was quick to feed it with downloadable content and expansion games. When rival game Rock Band introduced drums and microphones to the genre, Guitar Hero followed suit, allowing players to experience the vicarious thrills and frustration of trying to get everyone to play a song correctly together. Unfortunately, despite major success with various installments and spin-offs like DJ Hero, the rhythm game genre flamed out through oversaturation of the market and hasn’t had a major recovery, despite attempts to revive the brand in 2015.

5. Batman: Arkham Asylum – 2009

Batman fought his way through video games a number of times in the past, so what makes the Arkham series so special? For one thing, its engrossing story was written by Paul Dini, celebrated writer of animation and comics and one of the talents that powered Batman: The Animated Series to classic status in the ’90s. For another, three of the major voice actors from that show (Kevin Conroy, Mark Hamill, and Arleen Sorkin) reprised their respective roles as Batman, Joker, and Harley Quinn. Top that off with innovative gameplay that effectively blends all of Batman’s abilities, including combat prowess, keen detective skills, and stealth, and you’ve got a sensation. It sold two million units in three weeks. The game even pulled off a Guinness world record for “Most Critically Acclaimed Superhero Game Ever” until it was displaced by its own sequel, Arkham City. To date, nine games have been released in the series, including a mobile version of Arkham Origins in 2013 and a VR take in 2016.

6. Skylanders – 2011

Other franchises may have promoted buying collectibles that were based on the game, but you have to hand it to Skylanders for taking it to a level where buying collectibles is part of the game. Although U.B. Funkeys broke similar ground in 2007, Skylanders conquered the planet. Part of the initial appeal was the inclusion of the popular dragon Spyro, imported over from another series of games. Here, Spyro teamed up with a new group of characters with powers rooted in different elements (Fire, Water, Tech, etc.). When you placed your figure on the game portal peripheral, that character would appear in the game as your playable character. As you moved through the game, you could level up your character and unlock new abilities that were saved on a chip in the figure. However, certain obstacles and levels required characters of different elements to complete, ensuring that you’d want to collect (okay, buy) other characters for a more developed gaming experience. The game’s combination of fun character design and general good humor were a big part of the appeal. Expansion packs added levels at a cheaper cost than sequels, though the sequels (and many, many more figures) came in force. The characters have gone on to be represented in comics, animated television, and trading cards. With six console games and a number of mobile games in release, Skylanders has made over $3 billion with over 300 million toys sold by 2016.

7. Minecraft – 2011

When you become a reference in a show like South Park or Rick & Morty, that’s when you know that you’re firmly entrenched in pop culture. Such is the way with Minecraft, the game developed by Markus Persson that puts a premium on the creativity of the players. In a way, it’s difficult to easily sum up the game because it presents a number of opportunities; much of the play is dictated by the way that the player wants to play the game. Regardless of your path, resource gathering and building are critical pieces. Players collect blocks of different materials and can assemble them into houses, machines, and more. Some modes are antagonist-free, while others pit the player against enemies, or even starvation (run out of food in Survival mode, and you starve, just like in Oregon Trail). More than 154 million copies of the game have been sold, and there are still over 91 million monthly active players online. Many users have created their own downloadable content even as new official expansions and sequels continue to be released.

8. Fortnite – 2017

Combining the gathering and building notions of games like Minecraft and the “we have to use plenty of weapons to kill the zombies coming for us” aesthetic of countless games and films, the Epic Games release Fortnite exploded in 2017 and won’t be slowing down anytime soon. Its popularity is driven in part by its multiple modes. Save the World is more of a classic survival-horror/action experience, while Battle Royale lets up to 100 players play against each other in a constantly shrinking map. The newly-released Fortnite Creative allows players to build their own complex environments for gameplay. In a way, Fortnite is a distillation and extrapolation of years’ worth of popular game concepts in one place. The game is currently played by more than 200 million players (officially), though its cultural footprint has grown even larger. A piece of that are the emotes (dances) that characters are able to perform; many of these have caught on in the larger culture, although a number of the emotes appear to be based on dances pioneered in various pre-existing hip-hop videos. Nevertheless, Fortnite continues to dominate the video game conversation and will likely find its way under more than a few trees this year.

Featured Image: The Skylanders: Imaginators Starter Pack for Xbox 360. (©Activision)

21 Gifts to Spread Hygge for the Holidays

An appreciation for comfort and coziness is at the heart of hygge (pronounced hoo-gah), a Danish concept that has caught on around the world. Creating hygge in your life is as simple as discovering how to enjoy a reading nook on a rainy day or snuggling with loved ones by a crackling fire. Share some hygge this holiday season with these cozy and creative gift ideas. No tech required.

1. The Hygge Bible

Meik Wiking’s The Little Book of Hygge sparked global interest in Scandinavia’s cozy way of life when it was released in 2016. The founder of the Happiness Research Institute in Copenhagen has written this guide that explains why hygge is to Danes “what freedom is to Americans.”

2. DIY Firestarter

Nothing could be more hygge than a homemade gift. These holiday wax firestarters from Rooted in Thyme use pine cones, cinnamon sticks, and bay leaves to give a striking and scent-filled kindling alternative.

3. Mexican Hot Chocolate

Mexican hot chocolate is the perfect start for a snowy night holed up indoors. Rancho Gordo Stoneground Chocolate contains wild cinnamon, piloncillo, and 70 percent chocolate. The artisanal product from Napa comes with a personal recommendation from our staff.

4. Cozy Candles

An intoxicating scent transports any living room to hygge heaven. The musky, spicy, and woody smells of Seventh Avenue Apothecary Cashmere and Frankincense, Lockwood Basil Ginger Soy, and Bath & Body Works Mahogany Teakwood create the perfect atmosphere for coziness. Just remember, moderation is key; hoarding is definitely not hygge.

5. Neo-Victorian Literature

Curling up with a great novel is a simple pleasure, and some modern books have depicted the drama of Dickensian times in a new light. Fingersmith by Sarah Waters, Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood, and The Meaning of Night by Michael Cox would satisfy any bookworm on your gift list.

6. Socks

Socks with wacky prints and snarky sayings are trendy presents of late, but there is something to be said for well-made footwear. Smartwool Cenozoic Crew Socks and Bombas Women’s Knee-Highs are highly-rated socks for comfort that lasts through the colder months.

7. Houseplants

Unlike the difficult responsibility that goes along with gifting a pet (a big no-no), plants are perfectly acceptable as presents, especially if they’re easy. A low-maintenance Christmas cactus or peace lily will work for any level of plant expertise. To make a unique planter, find some translucent haworthias and rare aloes online and arrange them yourself.

8. Teas

Who doesn’t relish a hot cup of tea on a snowy morning? Barry’s Irish Breakfast Tea and Bigelow Cozy Chamomile are popular favorites for the caffeinated or decaffeinated in your life.

9. Kettle

The tea drinker on your gift list will surely appreciate the style and utility of a Hiware Glass Teapot for hygge entertaining or solo use. A stainless steel infuser is a must-have for loose leaf fanatics.

10. Flannel Luxury

It’s okay to splurge on a robe for a special gift (or for yourself). Vermont Country Store’s flannel robes for men and women are a highly-rated indulgence for evenings (and mornings and afternoons) at home.

11. Memory Foam for Your Feet

And how could one lounge in a robe without the proper footwear? Ultra Ideas Fleece Memory Foam Slippers complete an outfit perfect for lush relaxation.

12. Comfort from the Ground Up

Interior design is integral to hygge philosophy. The Serena & Lily Jute Border Rug is a bright, muted touch for a cozy room, while the sheepskin stylings of RugMyBaby add furry drama to your special space.

13. Essential Oils

The properties and uses of various essential oils have long been disputed, but it’s hard to argue against the subtle, calming aroma of a quiet diffuser dispensing a well-extracted eucalyptus oil.

14. Dark Chocolate

Park City, Utah’s award-winning Ritual Chocolate has created their Bourbon Barrel-Aged 75% Cacao Chocolate by aging cocoa nibs in bourbon barrels for several months.

15. Double-Textured Blanket

The Bedsure Knitted Throw can be strewn across a couch at one moment and cuddled the next, with its knitted texture on one side and Sherpa lining on the other.

16. Bubbles

Someone you know has yet to discover the stress-relieving qualities of a bubble bath, and you have the power to change that. Neiman Marcus Prosecco Bubble Bath is an apt introduction. For a homemade gift, try your hand at making DIY natural bath bombs.

17. Body Pillow

The Company Store Medium Firmness Pillow is a top-rated body pillow for more than sleeping. Contrary to popular belief, a body pillow isn’t only for spine support; it can be used to achieve comfort and relaxation in myriad ways throughout the home.

18. Special Sweaters

The novelty of an ugly sweater wears off faster than a Christmas cookie sugar high. A comfy one, however, is treasured forever. L.L. Bean Women’s Waffle-Stitch Cardigan and WoolOvers Men’s Lambswool Moss Stitch Sweater fit the bill for long-cherished closet favorites.

19. Baking Swag

The best way to bring hominess to a space might just be the sensory stimulation of baking. The smells and anticipation of treats makes a home like little else can. While the baker in your life might need some specific cookware, the Japanese simplicity of the Hand-Eye Supply BasShu Normal Apron is a foolproof gift that ties together any kitchen.

20. Weighted Blanket

If you know someone who seeks the calming, anti-anxiety effects that this new trend can elicit, check out the Quility Weighted Blanket, a top pick from leading researchers.

21. Box Subscription

When all else fails, give the simple joy that keeps on giving. Subscribe a lucky recipient to Hygge Box, and they can receive many of the small pleasures on this list throughout the year.