O O Ø O O O O
Got Spirit?
Do you remember when you were smaller and thought about all the loot you'd score on Christmas morning, and how you were so excited about Santa's visit you peed yourself at a drop of a hat? Do you remember poring through the Consumers Distributing, Shoprite, and the Sears Wish Book catalogs in September through December looking at all the cool new toys and hoping against hope you'd get the newest Lego set, G.I. Joe, or in Stevo's case, Rub-A-Dub-Dolly, and were always surprised when you got it? Do you remember mom baking up a tonne of goodies, trips to visit with the extended family and friends, and the overall warm and fuzzy feeling of the time of year? Me too, but where'd all those good feelings go?
Is it any wonder I'm not a fan of the season?
These days, this time of year makes me cringe. Canned music blaring at an obscene level wherever you go, be it elevators, the can (at work, on some floors, it's piped in - I shit you not), the malls and, worst of all, my dad's place all drive me batshit. Idiots in their SUVs moving at warp speed down the 417 during a blizzard in their rush to grab that parking spot that's three feet closer to the door cutting me off and putting my heart in my throat when they spin out in the passing lane - did nobody tell these idiots that four-wheel-drive is great to get you going, but once you're going it's about as useful as Bill Clinton doing a Planned Parenthood commercial? Rampant, out-of-control consumerism spurred on by retailers whose ad campaigns try to guilt you into giving gifts that cost more than most people on the planet make in a year because if you don't you must not care too much about them (yes, it's a run-on sentence with major grammatical errors, I don't care). Tales of the yearly toy that people buy in bulk to re-sell at ten times the list price because children want it, and there's no way a parent is going to disappoint their child.
Ugh. Is it any wonder I'm not a fan of the season?
I'll be the first to admit that I am a materialistic son of a bitch. I played the game, and blew a whack of cash on gifts for family because I wanted to understand much they meant to me. I had a great paying job and wanted to share my good fortune with those I cared about, so I bought into what was playing on the TV and spent, spent, spent. I had no regrets when I got the gifts, and have no regrets still. My friends and family are worth it, and there is nothing anyone can say or do that will change my opinion on that. What I am slowly learning however - and I am a little thick about some things - is that extravagant gifts weren't/aren't necessary. Something from the heart means a lot more than something from Blue Nile or Neiman Marcus. Why did it take me so long to figure that out?
It's times like these that believing in Santa Claus would come in handy.
It's not about how much you spend, and it never has been, no matter what the wonderful retail machine tries to make you think. It's all about sharing the moment with those you care about, and letting them know how important they are to you. It should also be about caring for your fellow human, but that message seems to have been torn up, stomped on, burned, and the ashes thrown to the wind. Even I'm guilty of that, as evidenced by the amount of volunteer work I do and how quickly I turn my head so I can't see those less fortunate than me.
I don't know what happened along the way to adulthood, but I seem to have misplaced or strangled something that I hope I'll find again. I've gained a lot over the years - wrinkles, percentage of body fat, cynicism, and stress - but I've lost the magic of the moment that used to come with the second half of December. I want my childhood again. I want that electric feeling I had on Christmas Eve where my brother and I would stay up until the wee hours shaking with excitement and trying like hell to wait until 6am so that dad wouldn't kill us for waking Santa up early after a hard nights' work. I want to see my grandparents and extended family for the big dinner and share the moment and feel like I'm part of something bigger and more special than life normally is. I want to feel what I used to feel when my family opened the gifts I had worked hard to make or save up for, because it was purely out of love, not because the TV said I should. I want my mom to be with us, because it was her favourite time of year.
I want a lot. I can't have some of it, and the rest won't come easy. It's times like these that believing in Santa Claus would come in handy.
trying like hell to wait until 6am so that dad wouldn't kill us for waking Santa up early after a hard nights' work
All is not gloomy, however, as I have great hopes that I will be able to ressurect my little lost spirit through my friends and family. My brother has a beautiful little girl, and a large portion of my friends have kids now. Watching them (both friends, brother, and kids) get excited about Christmas because of/with their kids is way cool, and seeing them happy makes me happy (weird how that works). I just wish all the other shit wasn't so invasive every where I go.
When you're out shopping for “Crazy Stripes” at The Gap or a Chopper Command Vertibird clone on E-bay, remember why you're getting it. I'm not telling you not to get the gift, just to think about why you're getting it, and to really savour the moment when the intended recipients eyes light up. Remember to give because you want to, not because you feel obligated to.
Try to ignore all the incessant marketing around you, remember that it's ok to not buy everything the kids want by puitting a third mortgage on the house, and avoid being one of the nasty rude people who tromp on everyone. And last but not least, remember there are folks around the world who are nowhere near as fortunate as us, and do something about it - no matter how small you think it may be, it's important and adds up in the end.
I'd apologize for the personal, rambling vent, but I feel a lot better now. If you made it this far I'm not sure whether to offer you congratulations or to be appalled. Thanks for sticking around, have a safe and happy holidays, and I'll see ya in the New Year (ugh - I just realized January first is a Tuesday and it'll be my pode. If you're thinking of getting me a gift, Ibuprofin and water would be appreciated).
Tuesday, December 10, 2002
PD DLXXVII