Holiday Traditions

The holiday season is a time for honoring traditions. Grandma’s serving platter comes out, that dusty and food-stained old cookbook is pressed into service, and memories of years past seem to linger a bit closer to the surface for many of us. While the promise of the new year brings anticipation of things to come and new projects to tackle, in the dwindling days of the year we often find ourselves looking back.

For those of use who eat, sleep and breathe everything automotive, our traditions often include cars. For me, there’s an old tradition in my family that involves the annual retrieval of the family Christmas tree. And it started accidentally.

When I was building my ’69 Chevy truck, I was doing so while in college 2 hours away from my hometown. Since my “shop” at the time was the muddy parking lot behind my apartment, my dad graciously agreed to let me work on the truck back home. And, more importantly, he agreed to help.

There’s something you should know about my dad. He does things right. The first time. There are no corners cut. Period. So, working with his impatient 20-year old son on a complete restoration undoubtedly tested his patience. But he persevered like a saint, guiding me through the process and teaching me along the way.

I couldn’t wait to drive the thing. You know the feeling. Just as soon as it made its own “vroom” noises (that weren’t made by me pretending from the driver’s seat) I was ready to go for a spin. Never mind that the rust repair on the cab and box had only just begun. Never mind that it had no hood or grille and was about thirteen different colors. I was ready to drive. This moment came just before Christmas, 2004. In a rare lapse of judgement, my dad agreed to ride with me to the outskirts if town to pick up the family Christmas tree.

I was ecstatic. I still remember the feeling. I was driving my own project truck. The one that I had been obsessed with for years and spent all my time daydreaming about (even when I should have been paying attention in class and doing homework). Never mind that it looked atrocious. Never mind that I could see the street passing underneath through the holes in the floor. I was on top of the world. The Christmas tree made it home and I’m forever grateful that I thought to snap a picture.

Fast forward a few years. The truck was finished. I had graduated from college and gotten married. (We drove the truck home from our wedding, “Just Married” shoe polished on the back window by a rogue brother in law.) And, on this particular Christmas, my wife was pregnant with our first daughter. Life really does move fast, doesn’t it? Anyway, when it came time to get that Christmas tree, the old truck was once again pressed into service.

Many more Christmas trees have been hauled as the years have passed. I still have the truck. I always will. There are too many memories, too much gratitude to my dad for his help and eternal patience, and too many Christmas trees hauled for me to ever part with it. These days, my family is too big to fit in the truck, so for a few years now it’s gotten a break from its Christmas service. But, I refuse to let this tradition die. I’m thinking next year we’re going to caravan to the tree farm, and the truck will do the tree hauling once again. Someday, I hope my daughters will drive it to bring their trees home and remember their old dad by driving his crusty old pickup.

This is just one story. Car stuff is a big part of my family’s holiday. There are always car parts under the tree. There is always bench racing around the table. I suspect this may be that same for many of you. So, we want to hear your holiday traditions that involve your cars. Family pictures? Christmas tree hauling? Car part presents under the tree? Share them with us on Facebook!