We boys had seen the world (in moments when we actually peered outside)! Well, when we arrived in Vancouver three full days later, our suitcases were BULGING with all the comics we had acquired. Sis, well-behaved as always, sat primly and quietly by their side. After all, comics cost only cost ten cents back then.Īnything for us rascally boys - anything to get us out of the adults’ hair for a few sec’s while they sat up in the CPR Train Observation Deck and made small talk over the unwinding, spectacular scenery. My bro, David, and I POUNCED on those comics, now that Mom as well as Dad was bringing home the bacon. How the Grinch Stole Christmas was a sorta watershed kiddies’ picture book for me when I was seven.įor I had graduated to the childishly ‘more adult’ stage of my reading career, since the previous summer I had seen firsthand the vastness of Canada, on a cross-country train trip with many a whistle stop.Įach train station, of course, had a smoke shop (natch - it was 1957, and EVERYONE smoked EVERYWHERE!) with rows and rows of family magazines and COMIC BOOKS. This holiday classic is perfect for reading aloud to your favorite little Whos. But what is that sound? It's not sobbing, but singing! Children simultaneously adore and fear this triumphant, twisted Seussian testimonial to the undaunted cheerfulness of the Whos, the transcendent nature of joy, and of course, the growth potential of a heart that's two sizes too small. Imagine the Whos' dismay when they discover the evil-doings of Grinch in his anti-Santa guise. Crumpit to dump it and waits to hear the sobs of the Whos when they wake up and discover the trappings of Christmas have disappeared. Looking quite out of place and very disturbing in his makeshift Santa get-up, the Grinch slithers down chimneys with empty bags and stealing the Whos' presents, their food, even the logs from their humble Who-fires. His "wonderful, awful" idea is to don a Santa outfit, strap heavy antlers on his poor, quivering dog Max, construct a makeshift sleigh, head down to Whoville, and strip the chafingly cheerful Whos of their Yuletide glee once and for all. The Grinch decides this frivolous merriment must stop. The noisy holiday preparations and infernal singing of the happy little citizens below annoy him to no end. For 53 years, the Grinch has lived in a cave on the side of a mountain, looming above the Whos in Whoville. Seuss's small-hearted Grinch ranks right up there with Scrooge when it comes to the crankiest, scowling holiday grumps of all time. "The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
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