It's a Wonderful Life on Candy Cane Lane

This past Saturday Lisa and I went to the home of a dance classmate of hers for a It's a Wonderful Life party.

The party itself was a very nice, casual affair. At 3:30 the whole group walked down to the Times, an old 'Magic of Hollywood' era theater where the movie was showing on the big screen.

I'm sure a few folks were influenced by one too many glasses of wine, but the audience, by and large, reacted to the scenes as if seeing it for the first time. There was genuine laughter, shock, you name it. That was unexpected.

The print itself was crisp, clear, and beautiful enough to make you wonder why they ever switched to that new-fangled 'color' film.

[out of place memory: as a youngster, for awhile I thought color was invented in the 60's. Not color film - color, period. I thought they filmed it 'normal' but the world was gray. How's that for crazy?]

And of course, I teared up a good three or four times. Nothing to be ashamed about - Sonny Corleone cried at movies too - and the movie remains, by far, my favorite of all time.

Definite Desert Island viewing.

Afterwards we headed back to the party for a minute, then dined at Real Chili, a site not condusive to a diet.

From there we picked up our kids and headed to Candy Cane Lane.

Candy Cane Lane is an area of homes in Milwaukee, three blocks long by maybe four or five wide, that decorates their homes Griswald style for the holiday. They attract quite a crowd, and it's all to raise money for the MACC fund - Midwest Athletes against Childhood Cancer.

[you'll have to forgive the photos of the night. The best houses (the brightest) don't photograph well]

Most folks choose to drive the route, turning off their headlights as a courtesy and joining a crawling motorcade of what can amount to a hundred cars or more.

Why?

Every year we choose to park and walk the kids through the streets. You feel much more involved, more Christmas-like, and get a better view. You certainly have more to remember than you would after an exhausting ride through the event.

You also run the risk of frostbite some years, but this time we got lucky with temperatures in the high thirties.

No whining and no complaining. The kids even took turns in the stroller of their own free will.

It was like taking strangers I tell ya.

Lu constantly pointed out any reference to Jesus, hollering out "I see Baby Jeezus!". She also said, when spotting the Grinch, "There the meanie!"

The only naughty act was Parker's tendency to yank the hair of whoever sat in front of him.

A dancing/talking snowman grabbed their attention for a good while

Two odd incidents:

There was a child, maybe 6 or 7 years old, who had obviously gotten her parent's idiotic permission to ride standing in the moonroof of a car.

"You're naughty," Lu yelled to her, full of exaggerated menace.

"Go home," the girl yelled back.

"You, you're naughty," Lu responded.

We squashed that fast.

Second not so Christmas moment: a woman was annoyed we didn't move the stroller out of her way fast enough and swore. Lisa let her know that wasn't cool, though the incident overall was nothing major.

But not the norm for the event.

Lis and I have a long standing tradition of taking our own photos, dating back to our beginning. With rare exceptions, they ain't pretty.  Here's that night's effort: