The TV is on OETA. Most everyone has gone to bed. Aside from my father and myself. It’s usually December 23 and Christmas Eve when this happens. The living room is lit up with the hue of the tree and the glow of the television. Always on OETA. It’s a kind of cozy that I can’t compare. It’s a warm blanket that, for a few late-night hours, makes me feel home. You know this feeling—you have your own version of your warm blanket.
I grew up in Stillwater. That was my home for 21 years. When I left to move to Colorado, then Dallas, then NYC, then back to Colorado, I never considered that when you leave, the home you return to often doesn’t feel like…home.
This Christmas will be the first I’ve spent in the same state as my family in almost 17 years. Writing that out makes me feel like a very old 39-year-old, whoa. My parents have moved a few times but always remained in Stillwater throughout my life. What I’ve grown used to is making complicated travel plans that seem to be filled with more stress than joy as I always tried, and wanted, to be home for Christmas each year.
Some of my most cherished memories are of the holidays as a kid. I was in the spirit each year by the time the candy was all gone... about a week after Halloween. It’s really a magical thing, looking back on what Christmas felt like as a kid, and trying to embrace that feeling each year. À la, hearing the reindeer's bell ring, if you will.
Not every Christmas is merry. Some years might be hard because of loss or illness. Some might be lonely. Some years, the spirit just doesn’t feel true. Others, we have a worldwide pandemic. Such is life. Hopefully, more years than not though, the merry is there for each of us.
Regardless of the year though—good, bad, or somewhere in between—I’ve always been able to count on these few hours. The stress of travel fades. The anxiety of the holidays dissipates. And, the TV is tuned to OETA.
Every single year, for the past 17 years, this has been my moment of merry. Late in the evening, with my father, watching Christmas specials and music from John Denver to Perry Como to Johnny Cash to Dolly Parton. Repeats of A Classic Christmas or The Lawrence Welk Show. Mannheim Steamroller, obviously. It never mattered because whatever it was, was always just right.
Nostalgia is a beautiful thing. For most of my adult life, without even really realizing it, a tradition organically grew between my father and me. When I get nostalgic about the holiday season, I think of OETA. Of the volume turned down low, and seeing a true performance put on from someone simply sitting on a stool singing. I think of my dad in his chair, watching and at times without even realizing it, singing along.
There was never a time set to watch or even have it on OETA. We don’t plan this out. It’s just what happens year after year. My dad had his own nostalgia while watching some of his favorite musicians or old show hosts perform. He would sometimes tell me a story about Andy Williams, Willie Nelson, or Marion Ross. That would lead to a conversation that lasted an hour. All the while we are comparing Lawrence Welk's Christmas special to a Nat King Cole appearance on AClassic Christmas. Is my dad even aware of this tradition? I think he is. I hope he is.
As a new father of a 16-month-old son, I have been thinking often about traditions and end up with a mind spinning in nostalgia. Which traditions did I grow up with that were organic? I’m sure most were planned out, and maybe what my parents did with their parents when they were kids. The organic ones though, the traditions that develop out of circumstance or for no reason at all, those are the special ones, to me. I grew up thinking of OETA as Channel 13. Then as I got older I just thought of it as PBS. Now, I think of it as my employer, but also, my happy holiday place.
What traditions will come to our family? Who’s to say. Maybe only Santa knows. I do know, starting this Christmas and each Christmas to come, that after everyone has gone to sleep, aside from my father and myself, the TV will be on OETA. As my little PBS kid gets older, I hope he sits with me and his grandfather, and the tradition forever continues.
If you aren't able to be with your family this year, or you are and want to watch something comforting which everyone will enjoy, put it on OETA. Nostalgia awaits.