No, I’m not talking about porch pirates, although they have taken some of the loving kindness out of the holiday. But now that I’m on the subject, has it occurred to anyone that some of those thieves might actually be paid by the Ring doorbell company to boost business? Just sayin’.
Anyway, since the world already has enough negativity in it, and this is the season of joy, rather than complain about all the things victimized by our new cancel culture, I’m going to reminisce on some traditions I find wholesome and comforting about Christmas that remind me how much good this season brings.
Granted, I never roasted chestnuts over an open fire, but I sincerely hope, in a time of coin shortages and card-only retail, that we will still be able to enjoy the sound of Salvation Army ringers. That bellwether sound became a wonderful sensory experience that, in my mind, practically raises Norman Rockwell from the grave. Being out in the world with shoppers and community, all thinking and going about showing love for family and friends, enjoying the anticipation of the season, is enough to keep me from buying everything from Amazon.
I like saying Merry Christmas. I didn’t realize until this year that there are many -mases in the calendar; i.e., St. Michaelmas is September 29. Still, to me, Christ is the King of kings so there’s no debate on what I will wish you now and again. I don’t even mind Xmas. X is the first letter of the Greek word for Christ, and for the past 999 years it has been used for His name because scribes like to save on ink and paper. His followers were even called X-ians in a lot of old texts. Lately, it just seems disrespectful because it is just one more thing that has become secular.
I once had a license plate that said FDFX. It’s worth noting, I was a volunteer EMT at the time and some people thought I was a conceited “fire department fox”, but it really meant “fully devoted follower of…”
I will say I feel a little ambivalent about the greetings. Writing and addressing dozens of cards was another chance to think fondly of loved ones, one at a time. A sweet labor of love, but definitely a labor—and not cheap. Still, it’s even sad to see the sometimes-annoying “Christmas letters” being turned into emoticon-ed Facebook posts. Then again, if you’re on Facebook enough, you already know what your friends did all year, so that annual Christmas catch-up isn’t really much on ‘new’-s.
When I was growing up, and everyone in my neighborhood knew everyone else, it was a treat to watch or go caroling. Having no fear of being outside in your own block, sharing cider or hot chocolate with new friends is so traditional, not to mention fun. I guess, if I decide to do it this year, I’ll keep a copy of the 1st Amendment in my pocket just in case.
I adore “Elf” and Ralphie’s BB-gun, but I insist that December 26 does not arrive without at least one viewing of “It’s a Wonderful Life,” “Holiday Inn,” and “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” There are no wise men or mangers, but there are few holiday messages more wholesome and comforting. You can keep your pandering “Krampus” and “Christmas with the Kranks”. Still, I’m not a communist… I do wear my “Die Hard is a Christmas Movie” sweater, as necessary, and I am happy to debate that. His wife’s name is Holly, after all.
I guess I’m just becoming somewhat of an ironic Scrooge, and maybe even a little proud of it. Return me to the sunrise awakenings, kids hovering at the top of the stairs waiting for parents to wake up, knowing they would soon be on a mixed bender of wrapping paper and glee, before an overly indulgent breakfast and a whole day of family, family, and more family.
Dear 2020,
Humbug on your Christmas tweets, and avocado sandwiches for Santa’s reindeer.