DECEMBER 18, 1998 GAY PEOPle's ChroNICLE

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GAY PEOPLE'S CHRONICLE

Holiday Gift Guide

All I want for Christmas

...is the dolls I had as a boy

by Bob Findle

It must be done. There is no two ways about it. I must make the trek to the local temple of consumerism and get my Christmas shopping done for the nieces and nephews my brother and sisters have blessed me with.

As Dr. Smith on Lost in Space (the TV show, thank you, not the lame movie) often said, “Oh the pain, the pain." And all he had to deal with was a reptilian alien that wanted to eat his face. I, on the other hand, must go forth and battle the mad mob of mothers trying to get their mitts on the "must have" toy of the

season.

No grizzly bear protecting her cubs has half the fury of a soccer mom determined to bring home a Furby to her litter. The U.S. military should forget stealth fighter planes and concentrate on strollers as assault weapons.

I had thought of the easy way out-U.S. Savings Bonds. Nixed that when I remembered how very annoyed I was as a child to get one of those. Uncle Frank's $50 bond was as welcome as the six-pack of Sears white Y-front underpants that Granny slipped me every year. Do with-it grannies now give Calvins for Kids?

Resigned to my fate, I moved through denial and accepted that toys were the thing for the under12 crowd of my family. I tried to go the other day but got sidetracked. Funny how easy it is to do that,

That morning, to get in the mood, I was playing Christmas with the Chipmunks. Once I realized that the helium voices of Alvin, Simon and Theodore were starting to trigger a small stroke in my frontal lobe, I put on my fave Elvis' Christmas album. Yes, the King celebrates the birthday of the King as only the King could do. He is reverent on "Silent Night" and "Oh, Little Town of Bethlehem," yet playful on "Here Comes Santa Claus" and "Santa, Bring My Baby Back to Me." The Elvis I truly love gets all out of control and rips it loose while rocking on "Santa Claus is Back in Town," uh-huh, as Santa makes his rounds in a “big, black Cadillac."

Before I could get out the door to go interact with an overworked, underpaid toy store clerk who is one smelly diaper away from going postal, the mail arrived. Had to look at it, of course. Included were several mail order catalogs. The longevity of mailing lists and their exponential growth never ceases to amaze me. Back in 1986, I think it was, I ordered Butt Boys in Love, or some such thing, discreetly by mail. Since then my name has been circulated worldwide it seems, and I still get catalogs from companies trying to hawk everything from rainbow-shaped cookie cutters to dungeon accessories. So much for discretion.

In the mail was info from Totem International, the makers of Billy, "the world's first out and proud gay doll." Billy comes in a variety of outfits, and unlike nubfor-crotches G.I. Joe and Ken, he is anatomically correct-if that anatomy was Continued on page 13