By Bill Phillips

Have you got all your Christmas shopping done yet?

If not, there’s still plenty of time. I’ve often joked that black socks are the quintessential Christmas gift; they’re easy to buy and everyone needs some black socks. They’re not quite as exciting as that 60-inch smart-TV, X-Box, or latest fashion.

When I was about six or seven years old I got a pair of socks from an aunt and uncle. They were wrapped up with a hockey puck. I puzzled over that package for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably just a few days. Trying to figure out what’s under the tree is part of the magic of Christmas.

These days there are usually rules about which packages I can shake, rattle and roll. It’s still fun trying to figure out what’s there and watching others figure out what it is you have bought them (since I do give gifts other than black socks, I do manage a few surprises).

In addition, if you give something other than black socks, the recipients might actually remember them. Other than the socks/puck gift, one particular Christmas gift from my childhood does stand out.

One year Santa bought me the coolest Volkswagen car. No, it wasn’t a real car. It was about a foot long and it shone like a real Bug. It was battery-operated, long before the days of remote-controlled anything. It kind of worked like a Roomba. You turned it on and let it go. The Beetle would head off across the floor until it hit something. Then it would back up, do a 90-degree turn while backing up, and then head off in a new direction until it encountered something solid again.

It could go all day, or at least until the batteries ran out.

I was tickled pink with my blue Bug.

Sadly, growing up in snow country, what’s the use of a good rig if it doesn’t handle the snow. It was probably Boxing Day, or maybe a day or two later, when I took the Volkswagen out for a foray in the front yard.

It really, really didn’t like the snow and it wasn’t long before the Bug was ready to join the other rusting car bodies in the back yard. Not sure what happened, but I suspect I got the battery compartment full of snow that eventually melted. It wasn’t until years later than I learned batteries don’t like a damp environment.

It’s funny how that gift, which didn’t last more than couple of days on the open road, is lasting a lifetime in my memory. Like I said, it was the coolest gift ever, or at least I thought so at the time.

Here’s hoping you’ve given and received a few gifts that take you back to time they were given.

Merry Christmas.

Bill Phillips is a freelance columnist living in Prince George. He was the winner of the 2009 Best Editorial award at the British Columbia/Yukon Community Newspaper Association’s Ma Murray awards, in 2007 he won the association’s Best Columnist award. In 2004, he placed third in the Canadian Community Newspaper best columnist category and, in 2003, placed second. He can be reached at billphillips1@mac.com