As Dave Barry once wrote, "Twas the night before Christmas and all though the house, not a creature was stirring, except Dad, who was stirring his third martini, trying to figure out how to put together a toy for his young son. My mother once told me that my own father had several Christmas Eve's just like that. And in honor of them and Christmas Eve's past, I am once again featuring their photograph (along with our dog Irma), sitting on the back porch of our house in the South Side Chicago neighborhood of Brainerd on Christmas Day. Was it really such a magical place around the holidays, or is every place magical around the holidays when you are young?
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