The legend of Johnny the Sock Boy

Another sign that I am a hopeless sell-out: My Christmas want list includes socks. Is that ever pathetic? But socks are affordable, practical and, unlike a lot of the other weird gifts I ask for, brows don't furrow when I ask for them.

If it were up to me, the gifts of the Magi would have been gold, frankincense and socks.

It is inevitable that I should lean heavily towards thoughts of socks during the holiday season. One of my strangest Yuletide memories involves them. It's a story that is both funny and sad. I often tell it to my kids as a sort of reality check. It starts in the mid-'70s when I was a mere fourth grader.

There was this one kid named Johnny. His last name escapes me. Johnny came to our school some time after the start of the fourth grade school year and hung around through the Holiday season.

It seemed there were always these kids who would appear from out of nowhere and only be at school for six weeks or less then they'd be gone forever. They invariably came from working poor backgrounds, undernourished, and, had it been two decades later, definite candidates for Ritalin. I imagine their folks were coming through the area looking for work. They rarely hung around long enough to make friends.

Johnny fit this stereotype to a 'T'.

On the last school day before the Christmas holiday it was time to exchange our gifts. Someone got Johnny's name and he ended up with a cool toy: a model jet airliner that he began to utilize with hyperactive glee.

As fate would have it, Johnny picked my friend Eddie's name out of the hat. Eddie tore into his package to reveal the gift of ... socks. That's right. While other kids were reveling in their fun toys, Eddie had to make do with a pair of white, cotton socks.

You could almost hear the 'THUD' of disappointment.

Eddie sat there with tears in his eyes. Charlie Brown wouldn't have been this depressed if his tree had pine borers. We were all stunned.

Obviously, Johnny had not picked out this gift. I began to see why he was so happy with his toy plane. He was probably getting only socks every Christmas. It made the magic markers I received that much more delectable.

We offered to share our largesse with Eddie, but he just wasn't in the mood. He told us he had a stomach ache, but it was obvious his Christmas party dreams were shattered beyond recognition. Everyone was whispering about it.

Johnny's mother came to pick him up early that day. She looked to be at least 70, but he did call her " Mama." Eddie excused himself so he wouldn't have to feign gratitude. That was the last time I recall seeing Johnny the Sock Boy.

Every so often I sit back and wonder of the current whereabouts of Johnny the Sock Boy. Did he rise above his station and get better toys? Does he recall the fourth grade at all?

Johnny, if you are out there and you can read this, please send me an e-mail. Better yet, send me some socks. I could really use them.