This Philly dad has a Macy’s Christmas Light Show tattoo. It means that much to his family.

Lance Sugarman keeps a secret up his sleeve that’s as sweet as his last name. It’s one about his past and his present, his family and his city, and his undying love of Christmas.

If he believes you to be a kindred spirit who loves Christmas, or Philly, or Christmas in Philly as much as he does, Sugarman will share his secret by rolling up his sleeve to reveal a 10-by-4-inch tattoo of the Macy’s Christmas Light Show on his left bicep.

The detailed design is precise right down to the time of the clocks in the kitschy, low-tech, lightbulb show’s grand finale.

“It’s weird to talk about. It’s literally just lights on a wall but it’s so much more than that,” Sugarman said. “It’s a place that’s special to us. It represents our family and our traditions. It’s where we’re all together.”

As word broke last week that Macy’s is closing its Center City location where the light show has been for nearly 70 years (dating back to the mid-1950s when the store was called Wanamaker’s), Sugarman and his wife, Blair, found themselves — like many Philadelphians — grappling with a host of emotions.

“How do you replace a whole day of nostalgia?” Blair Sugarman asked.

I found myself tearing up with the Sugarmans as we talked. The small towns where I was raised didn’t have a lot of traditions and when I moved to Philadelphia it was unusual communal experiences — like watching the old-timey light show with strangers amid racks of women’s clothing — that made me feel like I’d found home.

Unlike the Wanamaker Building’s Grand Court Organ and iconic eagle statue, the Christmas light show and animatronic Dickens Village aren’t protected by the Philadelphia Historical Commission (though I’d argue they should be). At this point, it’s unclear what will happen to them.

That uncertainty is tough for folks who love the show, like the Sugarmans and me.

“This is about something that brings joy. It’s simple but important because of the relationships it builds,” Lance Sugarman said. “That’s what Christmas is about. That’s what Macy’s light show is about. That’s why I got this tattoo.”

The Sugarmans, who grew up in Northeast Philadelphia, attended Northeast High, and still live in Northeast Philly, went to to the light show as kids, and when they began dating, they made it a part of their holiday traditions.

When their children, Cooper, 12, and Paisley, 11, were born, they began taking them as well.

The Sugarmans don’t just go to the light show — they go all out for the light show. First, they put on their “Christmas finest,” and we’re not talking snowflake sweaters and candy cane scarves. They wear things like full-body costumes from the movie Elf or velvet Christmas track suits.

Then the family heads to Reading Terminal Market for lunch with some friends they consider chosen family (sending a shout out request to Aunt Jenn, Cassidy, and Willow!). Sometimes they stop at The Gallery (Lance Sugarman refuses to call it the Fashion District) to do a little shopping and pop into the Comcast Center to catch the LED holiday show (even if Lance does think it’s “too new-edge”).

But the highlight, by far, is the light show and Dickens Village at Macy’s. The Sugarmans and their crew always get a spot on the third floor, directly across from the show.

“The beautiful part is both of my children are on the spectrum. Cooper is nonverbal and he loves the lights and Christmas themes,” Lance Sugarman said. “Our daughter is high-functioning, emotional, and verbal and she’s into the history of it. She knows all the facts about the building and organ. She might like it as much as we do.”

Blair Sugarman said it’s amazing to see her kids sitting on their jackets on the floor, enraptured and in awe.

“It’s so nostalgic and pure, there’s nothing like it,” her husband added. “It’s a scary world and that place is very safe.”

Each Sugarman has their favorite part of the show. Cooper loves Rudolph, Paisley loves the Nutcracker, Blair loves Julie Andrews' narration, and Lance, well, he used to love the “wooder feature” (aka the “Dancing Waters Enchanted Fountain”) but it was removed in 2000 over safety concerns, so he has a different favorite part now.

“I love that train at the top,” he said.

After the light show, they walk through the Dickens Village to see Santa and get their annual Macy’s Santa pin (they put all the pins they’ve collected on a ribbon on their Christmas tree). Then they pick out a nice ornament in the store for their tree.

Last but not least, the family stops at the eagle statue, where the kids write letters to Santa.

“It’s our little tradition and the kids love doing it,” Blair Sugarman said.

About five years ago, Lance Sugarman decided to get a tattoo of the light show on his arm.

“I have a lot of sentimental tattoos. I like to be reminded of the things and places that bring me joy and to be reminded of how fortunate we are,” he said.

The ink was done at Tattoo Odyssey in Northeast Philly by an artist named Manny who Lance Sugarman said made sure “every single detail he put in there is legit from the show, as accurate as can be.”

“It’s one of those fun things that’s a little secret I have that I get to share with people I think would be interested,” Sugarman said. “It usually starts off with a creepy conversation of me spotting someone who I think will like it and then taking my shirt off. So it’s important to remember to wear an undershirt out.”

Sometimes, when Sugarman is with his family somewhere like the waterpark Great Wolf Lodge in the Poconos, and he spots someone else with a Philly tattoo, he’ll show them his. If they don’t get it, he knows they’re from West Chester (or the like), and not from Philly.

Last year, the Sugarmans heard rumors Macy’s Center City location might close and so their visit there this past Christmas was bittersweet.

“It was just really sad,” Blair Sugarman said, her voice cracking. ”We told the kids to just keep looking around and take all of it in.”

Lance Sugarman spent time taking photos of old posters for the light show around the store.

“They’re simple pictures who nobody else might appreciate, but our daughter will,” he said.

When I asked if an Inquirer photographer could shoot photos of them for this story, the Sugarmans wanted to get them taken at Macy’s and wear their Christmas finery from last year in January, knowing this might really be the very last time.

I couldn’t help but think of how heartbroken the Sugarman children will be if the show doesn’t return and I couldn’t help but think of another young man I once met who also loved the show.

In 2019, I had the privilege of going behind the scenes to see how the light show is erected at Macy’s. That year the staff invited Matthew Romano, who was then 12, and his family to watch too.

Romano, who’s also on the autism spectrum, loves the light show so much he was able to spot a single dead bulb out of the more than 100,000 that make up the show. He could also draw the entire show from memory.

I’ll never forget him telling me that what he loves most about the show is how old it is and how the lights in it seem just a little more colorful than anywhere else.

How right he was. The entire Macy’s holiday experience is just a little more rich and vibrant than anything else. Perhaps part of that has to do with the age of the displays and the outmoded technologies, which transport us back to a time when our faces weren’t constantly lit by screens. And maybe part of it has to do with the collective experiences we’ve had there over the years, which add color to our own stories, and to the story of the city itself.

To dim the lights of this show would be dimming the holiday spirit of Philadelphia and let me tell you the light from those 55-foot-high “public art fixtures” they call North Poles in the median of North Broad Street are not going to make up the difference.

Blair Sugarman said she hopes another retailer will come in and keep the show accessible to all. If that can’t happen, Lance Sugarman hopes everything will be preserved and displayed somewhere else, like was done the Rocket Express monorail, which kids used to ride around Wanamaker’s and is now stationary and on display at the Please Touch Museum.

“Even though it doesn’t work it’s still there and we can go see it and that’s good to know,” Lance Sugarman said. “Or they can give everything to me and I’ll put it in our basement.”