A THOUSAND MONKEYS
‘You’ll shoot your eye out’
By Blake Wolfe/The Scugog Standard

Despite my complaints that this movie is played way too many times throughout the month of December - some channels even play/have played it 24-7 for the entire 31 days - I would have to say I hold a soft spot for ‘A Christmas Story.’
mI’m not usually one for holiday films, in the strict sense of Dec. 25 being inextricably tied to the movie as a plot point. Yes, there are plenty of movies I will forever associate with this time of year that I can watch the other 11 months - the Lord of the Rings trilogy, Fargo, etc. - but praising those would be neither sporting (read: difficult) nor festive and probably make little sense to anyone reading this column (particularly Fargo).
mBut ‘A Christmas Story’ is among a handful of Christmas movies that I will actually make time for (the others being ‘Elf,’ the Jim Carrey version of ‘How The Grinch Stole Christmas’ and, after curling up on the couch with a sick daughter last year, ‘The Polar Express’), so here are my reasons why.
mRalphie and company entered our lives by fluke in 1987 (or so I assume), three years after the movie was originally released, during an afternoon television broadcast.
mI think my mom watched it more intently than anyone else and, for numerous years after and prior to breaking down and buying a VHS copy (Christmas 1994, I believe), would make a point of letting everyone know when Ralphie and company would be coming on so that the time could be devoted to a family viewing. I distinctly remember her rushing us to get home in time to see it one year. Keep in mind this was before it attained its cult film status, prompting cable channels to play it on endless loops.
mLater on, I would end up rewinding and re-watching endlessly to see if Ralphie did in fact utter the F-bomb (I’m still undecided, although my 11-year-old ears swore that he did) or just a cleaned-up euphemism like ‘fudge’ or ‘fun’ upon losing the bolts to the wheels of the family car, which ultimately ended up with him chowing down on a bar of Lifebuoy as ironic punishment.
mA few years after that, I finally got why mom enjoyed this film. Any kid from the 1950s growing up in a Great Lakes rust belt town would immediately recognize the setting.
mSubsequently, the film reminded me of long-ago post-Christmas visits to Windsor, Ontario, where we’d traditionally spend the days between Dec. 26 and Dec. 31 with grandparents who didn’t have Nintendo.
mAnd 24 years since I first watched it, I look at A Christmas Story in yet another light. It’s no longer just a quaint movie about some kid wanting a Red Ryder BB gun under the tree, who prophetically ends up fulfilling the warning of ‘you’ll shoot your eye out’ from parents, educators and Santa himself (there’s not a person alive who has not seen this movie, so spoiler alerts be damned). It’s got the entire spectrum of conflicting holiday emotions wrapped up in one package - joy, longing, greed, guilt, remorse, disillusion and, ultimately, appreciation of the non-material things in life, like family that earmark at least the secular aspect of the celebration of Christmas - to which any kid who wished really hard for one great present will forever relate.
mAnd since I don’t receive the station with the 24-hour feed of this movie, I really only see it on once or twice a year, during which time I have to sit down and watch.
mEditor’s note: This column began as an answer to Tracey Coveart’s inquiry into the The Standard staff’s favourite Christmas films and books (you’ll read more in her Christmas feature next week) and evolved into what you just read. Viva unintentional multitasking!