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George Bailey woke up just before noon on Christmas Day. He needed the sleep. Events from the day before — with Uncle Billy’s bungling, the Bank Examiner, the fight with Mary, the angel Clarence, and the world Clarence showed him — were enough to give most men a stroke. Then, as all ended well, too much champagne and liquor flowed. George was truly hung over.

But George wasn’t the only one starting the day late. Mary and the kids, even on Christmas Day, were just rising. Santa could wait after all the excitement of the night before.

So George was out of his dire situation. While the money Potter filched had not been recovered, the gifts of cash, like the champagne, flowed. More than enough money and good will had been accumulated to make the Bank Examiner realize there could have been no duplicity. All was well. He could go back to Elmira and spend Christmas with his family.

Yes, all was well. For now. George knew he would enjoy this Christmas more than any in recent years. It would be fun talking to Harry about the action he saw in the war, never mind getting to meet with President Truman. Then he thought again of Harry and the nice life he would go back to in Rochester, running his father-in-law’s company. George felt no resentment, but the thought gave him pause.

Tomorrow George would go back to the Building and Loan with all the books balanced. People would still be festive over the special happening that brought the town together this Christmas. But it would be the same Building and Loan. There would still be the same struggles each month to make things add up. There would still be the worries over the costs of pipes and bricks.

He’d still be in Bedford Falls. He and Mary never had that honeymoon. They had never gone anywhere. No Egyptian Pyramids. No archeological digs. He had even let his National Geographic subscription lapse. The Bank Examiner’s Elmira sounded exotic to him now.

Clarence was right. George Bailey had done much good for many people. Pottersville would not be a happy place, with all his friends living in slum-like conditions. But he was a bit interested in Pottersville’s night life. Lots of good music. Maybe someone like Louis Armstrong might play there. Oh, well, maybe George would just break down and buy a new phonograph to play his old 78s. That’s as lively as he can make things in Bedford Falls.

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3 Responses to “It’s Not Such a Wonderful Life”

1. Janet Ward says:

   December 17, 2009 at 8:28 pm

   Oh, stop. I live in reality; I watch movies to escape, which is why I am partial to kids’ movies like Finding Nemo, Shrek and The Lion King, and the occasional Disney flick like Enchanted. Also The Princess Bride.

   Yes, I pretty much like movies where everyone sings and dances, and everything turns out all right. I still don’t think I’ve seen the Godfather start to finish, a fact that makes my husband, the New Yorker, crazy. And as much as I love Camelot, I can’t watch it anymore because the end is so sad. Hate me if you must.

   I prefer to think that George Bailey did, in fact, have a wonderful life. My fondest memory of that movie is how Tommy Maloof used to play it over and over during Manuel’s regulars’ party, and how, as soon as Mr. Martini said, “I even broka da juke box!” I would always start tearing up.

   Reply
2. Jeff Cochran says:

   December 17, 2009 at 8:38 pm

   Hi Janet,

   I like the film too. How could I not and be so familiar with the story? Every year on Christmas we have the film running on one of the DVD players for holiday background. However, I do think George Bailey got a raw deal and that a significant strength of the film is the darkness that pervades throughout.

   You know, I’ve always wanted to stop in at a joint like Martini’s on Christmas Eve…. tell Jack hello for me. jc

   Reply
3. Janet Ward says:

   December 17, 2009 at 10:28 pm

   He did get a raw deal, but it was what made him happy in the end. That is the way I like to think of it. Of course, had it been me, I would have raised holy hell with my brother for bailing on me.

   Reply

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