This post was written on December 20, 2009, the Sunday before Christmas…
I am a gullible cynic. Or rather a cynical _______ (Fill in the blank for “a gullible person”). If it is possible to have such a conflicted personality. Or I may just be plain crazy.
Despite the making fun of the over-exposure of the so-called holiday “shop till you drop because the economy needs YOU!” season, the rampant commercialization of Xmas (not being Christian, I don’t really lament the secularization of Christmas but I do sympathize), the frenzy and stress we arguably inflict upon ourselves, I do look forward to the holiday season.
It is a time for family to gather around, for friends to get together. And for each one of us to marvel at how much the children have grown, even just through the sending of the holiday cards, or the much-lampooned holiday letters. For snow: always nice to admire from inside a heated house even though we curse at it when we shovel. For hot cocoas. For fire in the gas fireplace. For remembering how blessed one is. For thinking of the others, even if only once a year. Better than never, really. For teaching your children to think of the others, hoping the once-a-year lesson will stick with them as they grow up. Better than not even trying, really. For vacation.
I go through the holiday season playing Jackal and Hyde. Flip-n-flopping. Thanks to the “Stolen Day” and my will to procrastinate till the last minute, I am enjoying an atypical day of leisure and peace, and I am feeling especially schizophrenic. One minute I am all cynical and wondering how hilarious it would be, albeit absolutely not advised, to give my mother-in-law one of these ornaments…
Come on. You know you want one of these...
Or how “wink wink ain’t I hip and cool” it would be to hang this on our Christmas tree, at the risk of DCFS pounding on my front door (since I assume they have such a law against passing down cynicism against Xmas to children under the age of 18)…
For truth seekers only
The next minute I am merrily humming, going through Bing Crosby’s Christmas song repertoire inside my head. Driving through the burbs, appreciating the snow-covered trees and rooftops during the day, admiring the twinkling lights by night and, as much as I am tempted to make fun of the enthusiasm, the extravagant Christmas displays some families put up. The radio in my car is turned to the Christmas music station (though back to NPR on Saturday mornings). I sing along to almost every song, and I feel… *gasp* HAPPY. *ashamed* HOLIDAY-y. Except of course when they play “Christmas Shoes“. I cry so hard every time this song comes on that I am unable to catch my breath. Sappy? Sure. Do I feel manipulated and stupid? Of course. But is it the saddest, most depressing song ever and your heart is made of stone if you don’t cry when you hear it for the first time? YES!
The next minute, not satisfied with the old Internet meme of “creepy/scary Santas and crying kids” photos, I am spamming the Interweb with the new meme called “Santa Gone Wild”:
Annual Santa Speedo Run in Boston
Santacon in UK, complete with a pub crawl!
And the next minute I am wistfully looking outside at my boys frolicking in the snow while Sinatra crooning “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” in the background…
What reminded me of the true spirit of what has come to be known worldwide as “Christmas”, yes, the secular holiday that is widely celebrated in say, China, Taiwan, Japan and even India, the non-Christian countries, ironically, is when Mr. Monk, my youngest, observed out loud,
“Why did they call the radio station ‘Holiday Music Station’ when everything they play is about Christmas? How come they don’t play music for other holidays?… Shouldn’t they just call it Christmas Music?”
Mr. Monk, who still steadfastly believes in Santa, unknowingly expressed, IMO, what a true Christian should reflect upon– the existence of and the respect due to the others– as Christmas fever sweeps the nation, nay, the world. Faster than you know. Whether you like it or not.
