Christmas always brings back memories of some of the best presents I ever got.

I still have one of my first toys; a train engine ride-on toy. It is jet black with a gold bell and a little bellows operated whistle I would pound on to announce my arrival.

To prove that I've always been a geek there was the year I got the GIANT 4 foot tall model of the Apollo 11. This was the complete Saturn V rocket that was taller than me that came apart in stages and had a separate lunar module so I could recreate an entire Apollo mission.

I have been scouring Ebay and trying to save a few bucks to collect another geek toy from my childhood; Major Matt Mason. He was a posable rubber action figure in while space suit and helmet. This was not as articulated or durable as a GI Joe because the rubber body was built over a wimple wire skeleton which would give out and poke out of an arm or leg after a few months use like a sickly broken bone. He had a cool jet pack, spider moon crawler, 3-story moon station and alien friend with a green see-through skull.

My belief that I had musical ability was probably seeded in the electric chord organ I got when I was either 11 or 12. An instrument that sounded more like and asthmatic bagpipe than a musical instrument, I would pound away "Beautiful Dreamer" for hours on. I was confused, years later, by sheet music that did not have letters and numbers in it.

The months of fall just before Christmas were Mission:Impossible time for me. I would search every inch of the house searching for my Christmas stash. My mother was done with her shopping my August so I knew that my gifts were wrapped and ready even before I went out Trick or Treating. I would set off on my safari armed with the double edged Gillette blade from my father's razor and a roll of tape. Once I would find my booty I would carefully slice through the tape just enough to either see what the gift was or, in the case of an anonymous gift box, slide the gift out to open and see the hidden treasure.

The other side of this was it was also honing my acting skills as each year I gave a stellar performance that would garner applause from Larry Olivier. OK....yes, I was a little shit about it and I did feel very bad the one year my mother found out what I had been doing. I was 16 and I was getting a 35mm camera. I was overjoyed to get it and it became one of my most used gifts ever. I don't remember how my mother found out but I clearly remember she was more upset that my father had been so excited about getting the camera for me. My feigned surprise that Christmas was an extra good performance not only because I really liked the gift but because the entire time as I opened the gift my mother's eyes were locked on me with a wild homicidal glare motivating me with simple self-preservation.