Growing up in New York City, I always knew when the Christmas season started. It started as you stood, shivering in the cold, on Central Park West, watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, the moment the Santa Clause float passed by. Period. End of question.
Then you stopped for hot chocolate with your family before you all piled into the subway to go home for your Thanksgiving Day turkey dinner.
Viewing the Santa Claus float go by was like the figurative flipping of some celestial switch that started a clockwork mechanism that initiated an orderly progression of events. These events continued in proper sequence, year after year for decades, culminating in the day we all returned to school in January.
Part of the clear and visible seasonal protocol was that christmas carols were not played or broadcast, decorative lights were not turned on, and season window displays were not installed in windows till AFTER Thanksgiving.
And it was good. Very good.
After the parade ended, the lights suddenly switched on, carols were broadcast on the radio stations and in stores and public buildings. All along 5th Ave the stores vied to offer passersby the most opulent, gorgeous, amazing Chistmas themed window displays.
A week later the lights were turned on on the giant Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. That signaled the start of ice skating.
Each familiar traditional event triggering the next -
The Nutcracker Suite at the NY State Ballet, Ahmal and the Night Visitors at the Brooklyn Acadeny.
Orgami classes at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and decorating their orgami tree.
A visit to the Central Park Children's zoo to feed the seals and look at the polar bears.
Weekend visits to Central Park to go ice skating at the Wollman rink, ride the carousel - the moving horses on the outside for us kids, the stationary sleigh seating for the parents.
Buying roasted chestnuts, freshly spun cotton candy, or red candy apples from street vendors.
Strolling down 5th Ave looking at the marvelous window displays. Neidermyers for hot chocolate.
Visits to F.A.O. Shwartz's. Macy's toy dept and then a session with the real, genuine, Santa. (Macy's Santa is THE real santa - see Miracle on 34th Street)
And yes, watching the Wizard of Oz starring Judy Garland on TV on Thanksgiving day - it was always broadcast. And then watching the original B & W Miracle on 34th Street, which imho is still the absolutely best and perfect and defining version of the story. (And please note this- they NEVER showed that horrible piece of crap It's a Wonderful Life -ever- during the season. That film all by itself can kill every last shred of holiday spirit and good will towards men within me.)
Going to Philharmonic Hall at Lincoln Center to sing the Halleluia Chorus - audience and stage singers, all together, a cappella. Glorious! If you've never done it, do it!
Christmas day we all stood on line for the (CHEAP cheap cheap) matinee show at Radio City Music Hall - usually another magical Disney animated film and the wonderful Rockettes, a ballet, the Christmas spectacular with a live nativity, and the awesome Wurlitzer panzer-organ. Well, this was the tradition in MY family for Christmas day since we were not Christians. I had no clue what Christ was, what the religious part of Christmas involved, untill I was 9 years old I had only the vaguest idea what Christians were to begin with and if you had told me what it was I'd have thought you were winding me up, that no one could possibly believe such obvious nonsense.
New Years Eve meant crowding and squashing together in Times Square to watch the ball drop. Kissing the one(s) you loved was absolutely required ritual. Regardless if it's family or as you grew up it was your romantic partner- if you didn't kiss the one you loved on New Year's, the whole year was somehow ruined.
I've left a lot out of this, but you get the picture.
When did/does the Christmas season start for you?
