My Mother wrote a wonderful account of her Christmases as a child... she was born in 1908 and grew up on a small dairy farm. Each of the 8 kids got an orange for Christmas, which was a very rare treat for them... it might be the only orange they'd get to eat, all year.

You sound as irreproachable as I was as a kid, Rap. 'Cept I didn't have a brother. Two older sisters served the purpose well enough, even though I usually got the worst of it. One of the secrets of eating an orange, which I passed on to my nephews who had plenty of brothers, is that if you pinch the orange peel you can shoot a nice stream of pure citric acid into someone's unsuspecting eye. Stung like crazy, and the only way to stop it from stinging was to squirt the perpetrator in their eye. It was kinda like a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon, where by the time everyone had had their fun, no one could see anymore from the tears streaming down their eyes.

As for Evening in Kansas City, I thought you meant eu de livestocke.

Jerry