Cookie Party
Beginning the year I was born, my parents hosted a holiday get-together in the days leading up to Christmas. It was called "The Cookie Party". The idea was that each family would make a bunch of cookies and bring them to share. And while that might have happened the first few years, it quickly transitioned into my dad making all of the cookies. This was just fine with me, a house with a warm oven and trays of cooling cookies on the kitchen countertops is a good place to be.
I'm sure the first few years it was a calm affair with a bunch of toddlers wobbling around and cribs full of sleeping babies, but as we got older, it morphed into a rambunctious free-for-all with adult conversation and drinks upstairs and kid bedlam downstairs. Throw in a piñata, the smoke of a half-dozen cigarettes, a few Bailey's and cream and you have yourself a classic seventies holiday rager. The photos from this era are a riot of sideburns, bellbottoms, and if you weren't wearing a turtleneck, the biggest collars you've ever seen.
The anticipation leading up to this event was almost more than little Jeffrey could handle. It was my favorite night of the year. With school out for winter break, my cousins coming over, and Christmas just a few days away, I was in heaven. Also, since it would last into the wee hours, we would have a partial sleepover. The parents would wake the kids at 1 or 2 o'clock, put them in a freezing car, and drive home. Since it was at our house, all we had to do was roll over and pull up the covers. The next morning my brother and I would wake and go downstairs to survey the damage and finish off a few cookies or empty the bowls of chocolate covered peanuts.
As the years went by, I took a more active role in preparing for the party. I would decorate the downstairs with lights and garland, stringing even more lights on the bushes outside. During our teen years, we began to invite more neighbors and friends. If someone was dating at the time, they would invite them along to show off to the family. I always thought it would be so great to have a fine lady on my arm like my brother always did. Finally, I was able to do so at the event's 22nd year and it was as awesome as I knew it would be.
The event was the time for your best holiday finery. I wish we had more pictures of the changing fashions over the years. I always knew well in advance what I would wear to the party. Sometimes that meant my best flannel paired with a dope pair of white corduroys and other times it would be a nice sweater with plaid slacks from Benetton and my best Swatch.
As one of the hosts, I felt it was my duty to entertain, or at least get people involved. That could involve a holiday-themed game or maybe watching a favorite Christmas special. One year, we had a lip-synch contest which culminated in a group performance of "We Are The World". Oh, The eighties.
The Cookie Party was going strong until the late nineties, when it started to change. It had morphed into more of an open-house with people "stopping by" instead of having this as their destination. It had gotten too big, with kids I barely knew underfoot and folks just sitting around, where they once were so active. It was becoming too much of headache for my parents.
Finally, at what turned out to be the final year, something occurred to me. As I was joking and laughing with some childhood friends whom I hadn't seen in years, one turned to the other and said, "See, I told you it would be fun." Then she looked at me and said, "I had to convince her to come tonight." That's when it finally hit me - this wasn't a big deal for other people. For them it was just another holiday party in a long line of holiday parties, nothing more.
Like so many other things in life, it wasn't the event itself that was so fun, it was the preparation, the anticipation, wanting to make everything just-so. It was about us really - our family working together to put this shindig on. I'm still sad about not having it anymore. The last Friday before Christmas each year, I tell the kids, "Right now the Cookie Party would be going on."
P.S. I forgot to mention more about the food
-Chocolate chip cookies with a hint of mint
-Peanut butter cookies with fork prints on top
-Cheerio squares (I grew up thinking Rice Krispie treats were the weird ones. I figured everyone used Cheerios).
-Oyster crackers baked with garlic and italian seasoning. My mom still makes them when we come over for Christmas. I hide them a little so people won't eat them, then I take them home in a gallon bag.
-A gross bowl of wet, raw, pickled herring. It was the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. My uncles would just pop these things in their mouths like it was nothing. If I got within two feet of that bowl, I would have to fight off the dry-heaves.
P.P.S. Last Christmas, my older brother decided to revive the Cookie Party and it was a lot of fun. My nephew Keenan even continued the tradition of eating (and struggling to keep down) a disgusting piece of raw fish. Maybe next year we'll make a pinata, grow out our sideburns, smoke a bunch of cigarettes, and bring this thing full circle.
