The Christmas season, unhappily, now begins before most folks have emerged from darkened family rooms after foiling the trick-or-treat crowd. I have achieved herd immunity from early Christmas music, but holiday television commercials are now assaulting me with sales pitches that make me wish Rudolf would get himself smacked by an F-150. A King Ranch model with big bumpers.
Compounding the premature commercial commotion is yet another Covid-19 threat—the specter of empty shelves at Christmas because global supply chain interruptions have trapped all the new video games in Long Beach. Despite the noise and worry, however, real Christmas tasks remain: gifts to select, trees to decorate, and a reserve propane tank to buy—hoping it will connect to the grill without one of those annoying explosions you read about.
I have to lay in a five-gallon drum of eggnog mix and some large bottles of Jack Daniel to help me endure those endless Lifetime and Hallmark television dramas—the ones where women return to their hometowns and find their former boyfriends are now serial killers. The eggnog will also allow me to survive seventy-five bowl games that, for all the entertainment they provide, might as well be the British Columbia curling playoffs.
Most of these irritations I can’t help you with, but I can share a non-traditional way to buy gifts for friends, loved ones, and loony Uncle Luther who never gives you anything but grief. My plan lets you ignore the supply chain and shop in an atmosphere of old-time values that once epitomized Christmas in America. You’ll find this homey experience in North Jackson, Pearl, and nearby Vicksburg. And they’re easy to find—just look beneath the orange and brown signs that say Cracker Barrel Old Country Store.
My extrasensory acuity hints that some of you are snickering and even guffawing but hear me out. And don’t tell me you’ve never been to a Cracker Barrel; you just overlooked the gift shop.
Cracker Barrels have three public areas: a front porch with rockers and checkerboards, a dining room offering Grandpa’s Decadent Day Starter (four eggs, nine pieces of limp bacon, a quart of milk, and enough biscuits to build a snow man), and the Old Country Store section. The store area lies between the front door and the dining hall, meaning that you need not dine there to shop. As icing on the cliché, you gain access to clean rest rooms—a bonus for us senior shoppers.
But back to Christmas presents. How about a gift box containing twelve Moon Pies for less than ten dollars? Cracker Barrel has no Royal Crown Cola but does have vintage replica soft drinks such as Double Cola, Moxie, and Vernor’s Ginger Ale (a peculiar Detroit fixation). The sampler of fifteen hot sauces is colorful but none are recommended for Moon Pies.
You’ll find attractive tree ornaments, lamps called Glitter Globes that are tacky but amusing, and a religious-themed section that includes inspirational door decorations (“He’s the Reason for the Season”).
There’s a Nostalgic Boy Reindeer stuffed toy and its playmate, the Nostalgic Girl Reindeer. Though Cracker Barrel (founded in 1969) has a Diversity & Inclusion department, it steps around toy reindeer gender issues and did not even hint at broadening the Raggedy Ann and Andy family. An intriguing stuffed toy is the twenty-dollar Rainbow Stingray Squismallow, a pink fish of murky ancestry. If I pour enough eggnog, my Ole Miss pals will think it’s a species of land shark.
One sniff tells you that scented candles are unavoidable, but almost hidden is the Badger Balm collection, a made-in-New Hampshire bevy of salves for soothing cracked hands, chapped lips, sore joints, and swollen feet. The Badger Tattoo Balm is new to me; I’m not sure what it’s supposed to do.
I know that you’ll be charmed by Christmas shopping at Cracker Barrel. The selection is expansive but not expensive, and the staff and fellow shoppers are friendly and helpful. One lady wearing an “I Identify as Yo Momma” t-shirt offered me a gumdrop; another held up her Garth Brooks DVD and said, “I just love Waylon Jennings.”
Trust me; Cracker Barrel has the real Christmas spirit. To say nothing of all-day breakfasts and Badger Tattoo Balm.
William Jeanes lives in Dinsmor.
