Snapshot No. 13: Jamie Sommers and Friends

And the bionic tidings keep coming...

"This is me Christmas 1975," reader Diane Davis tells us. "I scored the Bionic Woman and Tuesday Taylor dolls, both which I still have."

Not only that, but if you look real close, behind the li'l Diane, you'll spy a Bionic Beauty Salon, which apparently kept Jaime Sommers in tip-top spy shape.

We've been looking for evidence of a Kenner-produced Six Million Dollar Man Beauty Salon or Six Million Dollar Man-icure Station, but so far no luck.

-- Joal R.

Snapshot No. 12: A Long Time Ago...

We found this ultra-cool, ultra-definitive shot of a Star Wars Christmas via illustrator Jason Chalker's Flickr page. That's the 1978 version of Jason showing off his haul at the homefront in Abilene, Texas. As Jason tells us:

"I was so damn excited about the toys. Especially the Stormtrooper blaster. It was killing me having to wait for my mom to take pictures. All I wanted to do was bust open the toys, and start playing."

Thanks, Jason, for getting us geeked, too. Got a story and a picture to share yourself? Email away!

-- Joal R.

Snapshot No. 11: The Easy-Fake Smile

Frank Sarcia sends in this fun, Christmas 1970 image of him and his sister in Pelham, New Hampshire. Like the best family snapshots, all appears merry and bright -- note, appears. Frank explains:

"My sister wanted an Easy-Bake Oven, but received the Suzy Homemaker version instead, and she flipped her lid, but my parents made her take this picture smiling! If you knew her you could tell she was straining and faking the smile!"

Thanks, Frank, for sharing this classic tale of photo-album boosterism gone amok. Email us your stories and pics, too.

-- Brian H.

Snapshot No.10: Waiting Is the Hardest Part

This is me and my sister Val at my grandparents' house in Oshawa, Ontario, and it's 1974. My grandparents on my dad's side are of German descent, so we opened all our presents on Christmas Eve, which is pretty agreeable to a 4-year-old.

When my sister and I entered the home, we were allowed to open our stockings, which had fun stuff in them like the fire helment and classic Steif stuffed animals shown. But then we sat down to dinner, which was AGONY.

I think I put a kink in my neck staring at that tree...

Email us your Christmas pics. Join in on the fun!

-- Brian H.

Snapshot No 9: For Love of Corn Syrup

"I was thrilled to get Stretch Armstrong. I played with that thing all the time ... until it cracked, and gooed all over the place." -- John Hildman on Christmas 1977 in Sioux City, Iowa.

Oh, John, how I know your pain. I think all of us who had a Stretch doll in our lives had a little of that crimson corn syrup on our hands.

Thank you, John, for letting us see your Stretch. Email us your pics, too.

-- Brian H.

Snapshot No 8: At Least We Had Underoos

"What a bleak, stark, year," Andy Frueh said of Christmas 1979.

Due to the tough economy (that sounds familiar...), Andy doesn't remember he and his siblings getting much. "But at least we had Underoos," he said.

The Hulk set paled next to the brightly attired DC Comics heroes on that Christmas morning in Lima, Ohio, but Andy truly was the man of the hour thanks to Bill Bixby.

Thank you, Andy, for sharing this awesome story and image. Email us your pics, too.

-- Brian H.

Snapshot No 7: Anarchy, Sorry, Hoppity Hops in the U.K.

You say Hoppity Hop; our friends in the United Kingdom say Space Hopper. (Oh, those theatre-going Brits -- they just have to be different, don't they?) On any continent, the big, rubber bouncy ball was a big get, circa 1970. And so it was for future U.K. blogger/historian Derek Tait (above).

Now, if Derek is secure enough to send in a snapshot of himself poised on a Space Hopper, then what is stopping you? Email us your pics already. And, yes, in the name of fairness, we're open to Hoppity Hop art.

-- Brian H. & Joal R.

Snapshot No. 6: The Year I Got an Oscar

As I've written, despite my interest in Christmas in the 1970s, I don't have a lot of pictures of my own 1970s Christmastime self.

Which makes the shot to your left all the more precious.

It's from 1978. I'm 11. I'm holding a bag of off-market Bubble Yum, and an Oscar Goldman "action" figure. My father's standing behind me, and my older brother's to the left, but I cropped them out because, well, would you really be able to see them anyway? It is not often, after all, one is confronted by such stunning dorkiness.

And, no, I'm not talking about Oscar Goldman. I would never, ever trash talk a doll that came armed with an exploding suitcase.

--Joal R.

Snapshot No. 5: Toy Magic Under the Tree!

David Tedeschi recently submitted some fantastic shots of Christmas 1977, and they're too good not to at least share one.

This shot is literally a "who's who" of cool 1970s toys. We have Maskatron, evil enemy of the Six Million Dollar Man (still in its cardboard cell, no less), a Mego Batman Bat Lab (a repurposed Volkswagen bus, actually), Fisher-Price Adventure People sets, Mego comic action heroes, a Batmobile Exploding Bridge -- and is that a boxed Stretch Armstrong, I see, too? Just amazing stuff. Expect more from David in the near future.

If you have a photo and story to share, please drop us a line at xmasinthe70s [at] yahoo.com.

--Brian H.

Snapshot No. 3: The Flood

"I think this was in the main court of the mall, and [Santa] was a very, very lucky fellow because that look on my face is pure, unadulterated terror. And, then as now, when I get upset, my stomach gets in knots. I got about two feet off off Santa's lap, and my mom said I absolutely filled my pants.

They had just put me back in the stroller -- Grandma was there with me -- and they had just set me back in the stroller, and [my mother] said it just let loose. She said it was, yeah, all over the floor, it was in the stroller. She rolled me down back to the bathrooms, which were way down by Sears, leaving a trail behind us, and sent my grandma to go find the cheapest set of clothes she could find.

And that I believe is the only other picture I have with Santa. She never took me back to the mall."

Betsy Cech (as told to Joal R.)
Woodland Mall, Grand Rapids, Michigan
Circa 1972-1973

Snapshot No. 2: Before the Gap

"I am 3. Maybe. I look like Frances Farmer after a rough night fighting Hollywood phonies. Definitely. I am dressed like a clown. Sadly. I am opening a box. Of something. I want to remember. Badly. But I can't.

My Christmas memories don't kick in until the mid-1970s, a few years after this picture was taken, a few years after my parents stopped taking pictures on account of they were old and tired, a condition with which I now empathize as I am now old and tired (although blessed to be able to take pictures without having to worry about whether my Magicube supply is running low).

In the late 1970s, my younger brother and I began to chronicle our family Christmases on our own, which means the red-letter day I came into possession of an Oscar Goldman "action" figure was preserved on film.

But there is a gap. There are lost Christmases waged on brown, Astroturf-hard carpet that I see only in my mind's eye.

I look at this photo — this photo before the gap — and I think one thing: I should have brushed my hair. After all, you never know when a random Christmas photo, not unlike an impromptu Nick Nolte mugshot, is going to be your defining moment.

Also, the clown suit. Really?"

Joal R.

Living room on Cedar Street, Glendale, California
Circa 1970

Snapshot No. 1: The Play-Doh Incident

"Christmas morning 1972 wasn’t particularly pleasant for my sister, and it’s all my fault.

After the presents had been opened and my parents went to prepare breakfast (and drink much needed coffee), they asked my sister to make sure nothing happened to me. Even though she was five years my senior, I was very much a 2-year-old and had my own ideas.

When my sister’s back was turned, I spied a tin of Play-Doh, and in my limited experience mistook it for a can of baked beans. I must have been hungry because I immediately gobbled the contents down; not bothering to notice the taste.

When my sister found me, she panicked, having failed my parents and assuming that I would soon get sick and she would be severely punished. My confused parents entered the room to discover a rather full son and a completely panicked daughter. Being the good parents that they were, they chose to capture the moment forever."

Brian H.
Living room on Lilac Terrace, Whitby, Ontario, Canada
Christmas Day, 1972

Share your stories -- and your artifacts

Did you survive the 1970s? Even better, did you survive Christmas Day in the 1970s? Do you have the drug-store-developed snapshots, the beloved action figures, the old Pong box and the worn catalog pages to prove it?

If you've got a 1970s Christmas artifact, we'd love to see it. We'd love to hear about your misty-water-colored memories, too.

We are coauthors Joal Ryan and Brian Heiler, and we're compiling material for a coffee-table book that aims to celebrate that very special time, and those very odd carpet-color choices.

Please email Joal R. and Brian H. at: xmasinthe70s [at] yahoo.com.

We promise we won't share your treasures with anyone. Except the hopefully billions of readers of our book.

—Joal R. & Brian H.