Christmas has a way of kindling nostalgic memories of past holiday seasons. As a 56 year old baby boomer, I've had plenty of them to reflect upon.
My four brothers and I are all baby boomers, born between 1952 and 1964. The gifts we hoped for when we were kids were lightyears removed from what kids today want.
I remember Chatty Cathy, the first talking doll. Then there was Baby First Step who could walk, as long as her back was loaded with batteries.
Baby Pat-a-Burp was a doll that had the dubious virtue of belching prettily when her back was tapped. It thrilled all the little girls for some reason.
Ken and Barbie were the cool kids for many years running. Barbie had a carrying case for all her paraphernalia that turned into a doll house and a sports car.
Barbie's friends Midge and Francie and Ken's pal Allan were allowed to hang with them for awhile. Barbie had a teeny-bopper sister named Skipper and younger twin siblings Tutti and Todd.
I had 'em all. Dolls were my thing.
Of course the boys were into a whole other scene. One of my brothers had a Johnny West, a cowboy action figure (of course they couldn't be called dolls) who rode a big hard plastic horse.
Two of my other brothers played with GI Joe action figures. Naturally, Joe was far too manly to be called a doll, either. He wore camouflage and had guns, a canteen and a helmet. This was before the controversy of the Vietnam war, which later had a dampening effect on parents wanting their kids to play with toy soldiers.
My husband, also a boomer, fondly remembers the Christmas when his mother bought him his Cape Canaveral set. This was during the early days of the space program. His Cape Canaveral set had launching pads and buildings, and tracks to drive rockets to the launching pad.
You could fire the rockets and they'd shoot up into the living room ceiling. Great for the kid. The parents weren't quite so impressed.
No computer games back in those days.
We had slinkies. It was great fun to watch one shimmy down the stairs. Not so much fun to unsnarl a slinky from the tangled mess it would inevitably become.