bah, humbug

I want to clarify, before I say anything else, that I'm not an Ebenezer Scrooge. Or a Christmas Grinch, a pre-Clarence George Bailey or in any other way a foe, adversary or saboteur of the blessed day. There is only a small handful of people I'd like to see boiled in their own pudding, and none of them due to their observance of this so called season of mirth.

But.

I have to admit, I'm just not that into it. I mean, I love the lights, dig the carols, and am always into presies (given and received), but I've been so overexposed to the whole "magic" myth, the hype, hullabaloo and high expectations, that I'm totally jaded. I don't care. Leave me alone, little elf, and take your candy canes with you.

I think this started after my first Christmas away (1992, when I rented a flat in England with some friends). Homesick to death, I expected the next Christmas to be perfection. Magic. The whole Hallmark experience, where everyone shoots twinkles from their eyes with the joy of it. In fact, it was like every other Christmas: Get up, open presents, sit for a bit and look at the mess, get dressed, eat chocolate and oranges for breakfast, chill, have dinner (turkey et al), and watch 1960's era Christmas cartoons all afternoon. Or something like that. Where's the magic? Where's the transformation?

Talking to a group of kindergarten kids last week about the "real" meaning of Christmas, the point was just driven home even more. "It started in October and it ends after you open your presents," said one observant boy. He must shop at Costco. Or anywhere, really, now that putting out the Christmas decorations with the Halloween stuff is pretty much the norm, so that by the end of November I'm sick to death at the sight of yet another musical Father Christmas figurine, or reindeer that light up. Don't even get me started on tinsel.

"Christmas is all about Santa," another kid said. Oh. So, all this commotion over a mythical character (as opposed to even, say, the original Nicholas he was based on). Why not Mickey Mouse, or Bambi, then? Set aside a day for the Western World to fete them? We could have a different one every month. And why do parents want so desperately for their children to believe in something that doesn't exist - a lie. To what end?

As for the birth of Jesus, a Saviour for the world, well that's all well and good among the small minority who actually believe this - - if only he was actually born at this time of year. Which he wasn't. It's no more his birthday than it is mine. Read your history (key words "Saturnalia," "Mithra" and "Constantine"). In fact, prior to the publishing of A Christmas Carol, in 1846, the "traditional" Christmas celebration was described as an out of control, drunken tumult. Fun, perhaps, but hardly spiritual.

I'm not a scandalmonger, I'm just saying. I don't get the point. I'll still dig into the turkey, call out a "Happy Christmas!" to everyone I meet, and have a good time while I do - make no mistake. But I do think it's a humbug, at least according to the literal definition of the word. Sorry, but there you go.

And since there's enough commercial fluff and cheer around to fill each and every big box store and then some, I'm going to take a different slant on the season, in my upcoming entries. A realistic, cutting through the BS sort of angle. Take it for what it's worth, which may or may not be a lot. The point, when it comes down to it, is a good read. And feel free to disagree - as long as you post your thoughts as you do. In the meantime, though, "and to all a good night."