Christmas Eve at the Golden Arches

By Ken Volonte. (Mario Volonte Plymouth/DeSoto operated in South San Francisco from 1939 through 1960.)

I suppose my most memorable Christmas Eve was the night my father took us all to McDonald's for dinner. We usually ate at the Leaning Tower in Redwood City just before heading up to my Aunt Jerry's for our annual gift exchange.

On this night, my dad hadn't bothered to make dinner reservations. Why should he? He knew that his old pal Joe Ercoli would have a table waiting at the Leaning Tower.

Every Christmas Eve, we dined on exquisite homemade breads, exotic and dangerous appetizers and strange drinks. My mother hated fast food places, even the ultra-plush Jack in the Box in our neighborhood.

It had not been a busy Christmas Eve for my father. Nobody had come in to buy a car at his Plymouth dealership, but at least no one had wasted his time before buying a used car which would fall apart within eight months... He decided to start celebrating early.

At exactly 1:00, he entered the Gondolier. He never went in there for the drinks, my father made himself clear on that point. They served good food and my dad had a profound respect for all things Italian - even for the bartender, a Genovese. By 4:00, my father had eaten and drunk enough bourbon and waters to eulogize the local undertaker who had died some years before.

At home, I hated getting into my suit. It was the iridescent suit from junior high and it made me itch, especially in the crotch, where you couldn't scratch on the eve of the birthday of our Lord.

Down the street from the Gondolier, the phone in the Leaning Tower surely hummed with people checking that night's menu or making reservations. At 5:00, my mother and I arrived at Nona's house. My father would show up soon with a bottle of Strega for Nonie and a corsage for my mother. After he showered, we would be at the Leaning Tower by 6:30.

But at 6:15, my father still hadn't shown. My mom called his car agency only to be told, "Hell, Marj, I think he's down at the Gondolier."

On the TV I heard, "At General Electric, progress is our most important product." We had a GE toaster at home. It didn't work right. Just then, the back door banged open and in walked my father. "Whoooooo is Bambolina, a bright old man is heeee," Dad sang. "How are you feeling?" asked my mother archly. "I," said my father, "have never been healthier."

Well, the reason we didn't eat at the Leaning Tower is that we didn't have a reservation. We didn't eat at Tad's Roast Beef Emporium because my dad said he'd once heard one of the cooks fart. Every other place was full up or closed. McDonald's was just about to close when my mother threatened divorce.

I had a Big Mac and a Coke. It was Christmas Eve.