Whoever said this was the most wonderful time of the year was obviously smoking crack.
I mean, God help you if you have to go to the store for some normal, non-Christmas-related item. You might be there to get milk, but Redneck Rita will cut you if she thinks you’re going to grab one of the 40 inch TV’s she stood in line to buy four of.
I don’t know how much attention you paid to the news the morning after Black Friday, but violence in various forms broke out across the country as people sought out the fantastic deals. Lines stretched for hours, and people literally trampled other people to get in the doors when they opened. They trampled other living, breathing human beings to buy a G.D. television set and Rock N Roll Elmo Doll! Then someone wants to talk to me about Christmas spirit? There is no such thing as Christmas spirit. There’s buy me a present spirit, and I bought a nicer gift than you spirit, and this isn’t what I asked for spirit, and of course the I didn’t get what I wanted so now I’m disappointed spirit.
In case you haven’t picked up on it, this is not my favorite time of year. I’m a Halloween person. St. Patrick’s day is okay. Oh, and July 4th is fun–you get to blow stuff up. I also like Earth Day and Arbor Day.
But you can keep Christmas. If there was some sort of pill I could take that would allow me to sleep until after New Years, I’d take it–kind of like Rip Van Winkle. The main problem is, Christmas starts earlier and earlier each year, so eventually I’d only be awake for, say, six days in May. Hallmark started playing Christmas movies–you know, the sickening, sappy, oh isn’t everything just wonderful and all of our problems are magically cured by wishing on the Christmas tree type of movie–the second week of November. Bah.
To quote my green friend, “I don’t want to make waves here, but this whole Christmas season is stupid, stupid, STUPID!” It’s the one time of year when it’s perfectly acceptable to be completely consumed by the love of material things. I mean, more than usual. Why do you decorate your house? To show up your neighbors. If you don’t buy your kids the expensive electronic stuff, then people think you suck as a parent, and your kids secretly think so too. You actually tell people what to buy you! Think about that! What’s the point of giving a gift? Don’t get me wrong, I’m just as guilty as anyone in this area, and I understand it. You have no idea what to buy people, and why? Because we already have more stuff than any person could conceivably need even if they lived until the end of time. So we tell each other what to buy. Merry Christmas.
Then there’s family. Why go through the trouble of getting together with people who you never see, never talk to, and who secretly don’t like you anyway? You get together, over-eat, then part ways for another year and talk about each other. Ho ho ho!
I have absolutely no trouble whatsoever understanding why more people commit suicide during the holidays than any other time of the year. I always think of Chris Farley (if you don’t know who that is, get a life.) In the movie “Tommy Boy,” his character finally freaks out because of stress and says, “Every time I drive down the road, I wanna jerk the wheel into a Goddamn bridge abutment!”
The saddest part is that you can’t escape it. Christmas movies, Christmas music, Christmas decorations–it’s everywhere you go. It’s so inundating that I even catch myself humming Christmas music–me, the Grinch’s grandmother, humming Christmas music!
I’m going to quit before I totally depress myself. Maybe another cup of coffee will help. Maybe I’ll go take a nap.
Wake me up after the New Year.