My earliest memory of Christmas is of being blinded by white light. You see, my mom and dad wanted to capture every moment of our family’s holidays, so they used an ancient (even by 1970’s standards) 8-mm camera and an enormous spotlight to record the scene.

With pupils as pinned as amphetamine addicts, my brother and I would grope our way to the Christmas tree once standing over a modest collection of wrapped gifts, now almost toppled with “Santa’s” unwrapped additions.

Recent viewings of these films (now on VHS tapes) show my brother and I fumbling with colorful cardboard packaging while squinting and waving at the camera.

I’m glad to have these moments kept for posterity even though the recording of them caused eye strain and stubbed toes.

I decided to endure physical torture for the holidays again just recently when I bundled up to attend Dillon’s annual Christmas stroll. I didn’t want to miss the one night the stores of downtown Dillon stay open later than (gasp!) 6pm.

But was it cold. I know I shouldn’t whine given my past complaints about the blistering heat of south Texas that I endured last year, but when the high temperature one day was 1 degree, I knew I wasn’t in Kansas any more (metaphorically speaking.)

So I focused my energies indoors on eating and drinking all the fabulous delights provided by the downtown merchants. My stomach turned into lovely round Buddha belly by the end of the evening, and I had enough fat padding to make my journey home warm and toasty.

Though I enjoyed the lights and themusic and the popcorn balls, I still felt a little empty when I arrived at home and turned on the holiday twinkle lights I put in my ficus tree. To cheer myself up, I decided to make a list of all my favorite holiday traditions.

—Reading through the advent services with my family. My favorite part is when my dad (third Sunday) reads his part of the service and must, in a short poem, proclaim himself “a little tree.” (One year Mom laughed so hard she cried.)

—Watching 24 hours of A Christmas Story on TNT on Christmas Eve. A hot tongue stuck to an icy pole, a hideous pink bunny costume, and the refrain, “You’ll shoot your eye out!” make this film a favorite any time of year, not just during the holidays.

—Eating Krispy Kreme donuts. Krispy Kremes were a regular part of my junk food repertoire as a kid. I never realized when I moved away from home that I’d be leaving behind forever those bundles of carbohydrate joy. Now when I fly home for the holidays, Mother and Dad pick me up from the airport and take the route home that will lead us right by the Krispy Kreme store. If the “Hot Donuts Now” sign is on, look out!

—Listening to the Charlie Brown Christmas Album. Vince Guaraldi’s jazz album is pure genius.

—Girls’ night out at the movies. Every year mom, Auntie Nini, and I head for the latest Hollywood hit for big laughs and even bigger Coke slushees.

—Seeing the Salad Shooter commercial. It’s just not Christmas until this famed vegetable spitting contraption springs its way onto my television set. A close second—Cha Cha Cha Chia! Pet ads.

—Hearing the hymn, “Infant Holy, Infant Lowly” at church. My brother and I joined our church’s handbell choirduring its inaugural year. We were so bad that our version of the aforementioned hymn sounded like Big Ben on acid. Hearing the song always makes me laugh at our horrible rendition of it.

After rereading this list, I realize that many of my favorite holiday traditions happen about two thousand miles east of here.

I’ve enjoyed the Christmas spirit here in Dillon, with its festively lit downtown and holiday outings featuring local choirs, artists, and musical groups. But it’s time for me to head to my other hometown, Roanoke, Virginia,where my mom and dad are waiting take me by the Krispy Kreme.