View Full Version : My Christmas Gift to Forum Members

12-25-2009, 05:17 PM
All 8 thousand and some words of it. Yeah - go fix yourself a Christmas toddy or a big mug of cappuchino from that new maker you got for a gift. Then read this and tell me what you think.
I first wrote this in 1997, but even tho it was OK, I've wanted, for years, to do it over again. See what you think.

:DSanta and the Studebaker...... By Biggs (copyrighted):D

“Egg nog – egg nog – I gotta have some egg nog!” Hank lay there, more than half asleep, trying to deal with the thought of relishing something he’d never have been able to tolerate. He adjusted himself beneath the covers and tried to nod off to sleep once more. Maybe it was just some silly dream. Gosh knows, the mind can pose some goofy scenarios while one recharges the ol’ batteries. Thru the fog at the threshold of dreamland, Hank mentally chided himself: “C’mon now – concentrate – count sheep or some d*mned thing.” Fluffing the pillow a bit and reseating his left cheek in the middle of it, he snuggled in with a big sigh.
Gah! There it was AGAIN! It’s like he could FEEL the stuff sliding from the glass and over a welcoming tongue - like drinking liquid custard. “This is nuts!” he thought.

He pushed himself up on one elbow a bit and blinked into the darkness of the bedroom. All was quiet – as it should be. The moon lit the curtains and the illuminated clock told of the early morning hour. He rolled his lower lip in a little and bit it. Sure enough, he was conscious. Easing his cheek onto the pillow again, he worried he might awaken Marge with all his moving. Then he reminded himself that his wife could sleep thru anything.

Closing his eyes yet again, he decided he’d try counting backwards from one hundred. He got as far as ninety-two before a vision of that pitcher in the fridge popped up! Clenched eyelids and pursed lips made an attempt to dismiss it, but it stubbornly refused to disappear.
Hank tossed himself, rather abruptly, to where he was lying on his back. Taking a deep breath it was then let out slowly. Then he pulled the blankets up over his head and closed his eyes. Egg nog again! He could clearly see – even with his eyes shut – a frothy-topped, brimming tumbler of the yellow-hued brew! And what was even crazier was that it seemed so appealing.
In hushed fashion, he let out and exclamatory “SHEESH!” thru clenched teeth. Catching himself in mid-sheesh, he froze for a moment – fully expecting that that would certainly rouse the wife from her slumber. Listening intently, only some muffled mumblings came from the far side of her pillow.

Hank lay back down again and stared at the ceiling. He was afraid now – to even blink, for fear of being confronted with a vision once again. All he wanted to do was get some sleep, and yet this nightmare of ah, well um, er – whatever it was, was dogging every effort to nod off.
He didn’t have to reason too far before it struck him. “That’s right! It’s Christmas day. I must be a little anxious what with the kids and grandkids all comin’ here tomorrow. Yah! That’s it, ok. Now that I know what’s buggin’ me, I can get some sleep.”
Adjusting the pillow yet again, Hank pushed his head into it and closed his eyes. “NO!” There was that demon tumbler again. Hank started to wonder if he wasn’t “losin’ it”.

The visions and the yearning were seemingly bent on keeping him from sleeping. And even tho he risked waking Marge – or worse yet – getting caught by her - he concluded he had no choice but to go downstairs, to the kitchen, and confront the darned egg and cream concoction that was taunting him. He’d have to be quiet about it tho.

Hank was certain that if Marge awoke and found him drinking some of her holiday tonic, he’d never hear the end of it.
Every December, Marge would make a reservoir’s worth her “secret recipe” and then try to force a glass of the stuff on whoever came to visit. Poor Hank was thusly confronted at least once a day – more when guests were there to laugh at his obvious revulsion. “Humbug!” he’d grumble. “Humbug and yech!” At least once a year

12-25-2009, 05:32 PM
That's quite a tale, Mr. Biggs. Quite a tale......

'50 Champion, 1 family owner

12-25-2009, 07:26 PM
Was this a true story. Thanks for the story I enjoyed it.

7G-Q1 49 2R12 10G-F5 56B-D4 56B-F2
Studebaker Diners Club

Invalid User Name
12-25-2009, 09:36 PM
What a pleasant way to end my Christmas day. Thanks Mr. Biggs

Venice, Florida
1950 Champion
9G F1

12-25-2009, 09:47 PM
Holy Mackerel, Andy, THAT is a story!

Thank YOU very mucn, Biggs and MERRY CHRISTMAS to you and yours.


12-25-2009, 10:41 PM
Harmonious throb of motorocity, indeed. [^] Yes, poor Marge, even in the Green Mile the wives had a happy ending with the right touch. ;) Love the slanted Studebaker tale, Bob, now back to that real life greenhouse healing you have going on at the Biggs' farm. Now I need to run out and get some more egg nog, thanks! :D


12-26-2009, 07:42 AM
Great Story, Bob, Keep 'em coming. Send one to Art, once in a while, too.

Tom Bredehoft
'53 Commander Coupe (since 1959)
'55 President (6H Y6) State Sedan
....On the road, again....
'05 Legacy Ltd Wagon
All Indiana built cars

12-26-2009, 08:47 AM
WOW!!!....Awesome story.... Thanks for taking the time to share "Hank"

12-26-2009, 09:23 AM
Thanks Biggsie, one of the best stories I've read in quite a while. [^]

Matthew Burnette
Your Friendly Stude Trim Bender

12-26-2009, 10:29 AM
Mr. B although it is the day after Christmas, this will go down as a classic Studebaker story in my book. Thanks for taking the time to write all 8K plus words of it.

See you in the future as I write about our past