MCLXIV

That's Jude, my nephew, transfixed by Rudolph. Adorable as this photo is, he's infitely cuter in person.

Spending the holidays with him - and all of my other neices and nephews before him - is easily one of the best parts of this time year for me. Watching the joy he experienced hearing about Santa's impending arrival and then waking up on Chrismas day to discover that the jolly old fellow brought the very 'marble run' toy that he wanted so badly, I was reminded of my own childhood and how magical this time of year can be.

Naturally as I plodded along through my first half century - ugh - I've come to have a more nuanced view of Christmas. I learned that Christmas wasn't just about getting gifts. Turns out there's a religious backstory to the holiday that tends to get edged out by the consumeristic craze that descends upon much of the world this time of year. I learned that not all the boys and girls in the world were as lucky as I was. I learned that the adults in my life were onto something when they gently planted the seed in my head that sometimes giving is better than receiving.

But one of things that always strikes me about the way we celebrate Christmas nowadays is how many of the same holiday specials that I watched as a child are the same ones that kids like Jude continue to watch today.

Which brings me back to Rudolph.

Though I wasn't afflicted by the same red nose that Rudolph was, I do recall having red hair wasn't such a great thing as a kid. "Carrot top" was the favored taunt back in my day. I tried to explain to the kids in school that my hair was red because I stood on my head a lot and the blood rushed to that lower extremity. Not sure any of them ever bought that explanation. It wasn't until later in my life that they started calling us "gingers".

Speaking of which, if you haven't already been warned, here's how someone defined "gingers" on urbandictionary.com:

Gingers are people who are commonly mistaken as having no soul, but in fact have souls, they are just stolen. Gingers are soul sucking redheads who are slowly sucking the universe's life force, slowly. If you ever see a ginger with blue eyes, be afraid. Be very afraid.

Beware if I ever bat my baby blues at you! You've been warned.

Life's lessons often arive in hindsight. By the time I learned about my ginger super powers, my hair had already begun turning - how should I put this? - frosty.

Watching Rudolph with Jude this year, I noticed something that I hadn't noticed before. It wasn't the sudden realization that his little reindeer friends were jerks. Or that the reindeer coach was a jerk. Or that Rudolph's father was a jerk. Or that even this show's version of Santa was a jerk - an exploitative jerk at that. Nope, all of those insights came to me years ago.

The realization this year didn't strike me while I watched with Jude. Rather, it came when I saw the photo above, after the fact. For the first time, I noticed the copyright date.

If I recall correctly, the Rudolph holiday special first showed a few years before I was born. Since that was - according to the copyright date anyway - way back in 1164 A.D., perhaps I should be forgiven the bits of frosty that I've picked up over the intervening centuries.

And given what I discovered about the Rudolph holiday special this year, in the spirit of the holiday season, I've decided to cut the show's cast of characters some slack. They were highly socially evolved when compared to their contemporaries back in MCLXIV.