At least coffee #94, or Things have never been so bad.

At least coffee 94, or Things have never been so bad.
Christmas is coming, so it's time to choose a Christmas theme. I was inspired by the contributions of some "experts" on a period they did not even live through, and what they have heard about it are fairy tales told by die-hard former communists who changed sides and became the biggest communist bashers.
Sometimes I come across stories about the period before the Velvet Revolution. The author is obviously someone who was born after this change, because their stories lead me to believe that I must have lived in a completely different era and in a different region. The latest articles I read on the obscure platform „seznam.medium“ about Christmas then and now gave me the idea that I also need to complain. Yes, complain that I am no longer young enough to enjoy life as I can only imagine.
I was born into a hopeful time. Two communist monsters, Stalin and Gottwald, had just gone to hell. It was said to be a time full of hope, construction, and expectations for a better life. It hadn't been that long since the war, so fear still ruled the minds of adults. But even so, they tried to do something for their children. It is difficult to judge how much of it was genuine enthusiasm and how much was an attempt at revenge against former exploiters. The fact is that it was a time of great construction. Dams, roads, apartment buildings, factories—all of this had an impact on our lives.
As a child, I didn't notice this yet. My only concern was to get home on time, because otherwise my mother's reproaches and my father's heavy hand awaited me. But it was so nice outside. And I don't mean the weather, but the atmosphere of boys' games and mischief.
When Christmas came, we always had a decorated tree, which had been stored in the basement for several days in advance so that it could be brought out and decorated on Christmas Eve. Yes, in addition to the classic glass decorations, we made paper chains. But it wasn't because we were lacking anything, it was so that we children could also participate in decorating the tree in some way. We didn't have a carp because no one in our family knew how to prepare it, but we still walked around the square in České Budějovice, looking at the carp that were intended for people who knew how to prepare them. And there were plenty of them. Both those interested and the carp. I never heard of anyone not being able to get a carp. They were sold until noon on Christmas Eve. So even those who, for whatever reason, didn't manage to buy one, or didn't want to keep it at home in the bathtub, could have a carp.
The cookies were baked well in advance because they had to "rest," that is, soften to an edible quality. Several types were baked; I don't even remember how many there were. There were also no-bake cookies; one year, for example, we had chocolate balls at our house. And they were so good that I ate so many that I refused to eat them the following year. They made me feel really sick. I just ate them in such a way that I literally devoured them. Which, of course, left me with a taste aversion.
Yes, there were also goods that were only available at Christmas, but no one really cared about that. Because there was plenty of other fruit, such as apples and pears. So we didn't feel any shortage. Christmas was always a time when there had to be something festive, and that used to be oranges, and later tangerines and grapefruits.
There were two types of gifts. Those that were bought continuously from September onwards, and those that were bought on special Sundays, i.e., bronze, silver, and gold. So, for example, "matchbox cars," also known as "matchboxes," could only be bought on these three days. But none of us children suffered from not having everything. Of course, there were some among us whose parents shopped at Tuzex, but this was never discussed in our group. Not even later in high school. Some people had things, some didn't, but that didn't disqualify anyone. At least in a city like Budějovice.
And during the holidays, which I usually spent with my grandmother in the countryside, where I belonged to a local group of boys my age, this was not an issue at all. There, our only concern was to be home in time for dinner.
As time went by, August '68 came around. My parents were among those who did not approve of this event, so this also had an impact on my life later on. I admit that I understood the true essence of the Prague Spring and the August "visit" of the allied troops many, many years later. I understood that it was actually a power struggle between two factions of one party, and the one that won was the one that was closer to the Germans and Poles, who, in cooperation with the Ukrainians in the Politburo of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, forced Brezhnev to take a step that left its mark on the minds of a large part of the population of Czechoslovakia.
The period of normalization began, and it affected me after I finished high school. Although I contributed to it a little. Perhaps if I had applied to a university somewhere in Prague, where the fingers of the Budweis powers that be did not reach, I would have gotten in.
It just didn't work out here. So, out of spite, I went to learn a trade, but there were problems there too. Nevertheless, I got where I wanted to be. Later, I did some further training and managed to leave the city that was not kind to me. However, I was aware that my career options were limited, so I tried to enjoy life instead. I left for Šumava with a wedding ring, so it was no problem to get an apartment in the border region.
And again, we lived comfortably. We didn't suffer from any shortages, either at Christmas or during the year. We had no trouble getting anything we needed; we had furniture that we bought on the spot, a TV, a refrigerator... Simply everything. And that was despite the fact that somewhere there was my personnel file as the son of an opponent of the invasion. So all those stories about how there was nothing anywhere and how bad things were are just fairy tales penned by authors inspired by the famous Alfred Hitchcock. Simply made-up horror stories.
But it's possible that this only happened because the Šumava region lived its own life, which was not influenced in any way by various district or even local committees. If anything influenced anything here, it was human stupidity, which had nothing to do with party affiliation.
I have quite nice memories of my youth, I have pushed all my failures out of my mind, and so I enjoy my coffee in peace.