Christmas: A Satire

My husband asked me on Monday what I was going to write about this week.  “I really don’t know,” I replied.  We aren’t going anywhere until my Christmas break, so I won’t be drawing inspiration from my anxious traveling.  “But I’m not too worried,” I hurriedly added.  “I’m sure I will think of something.”  

I was worried just to be clear.  I never really know when inspiration will strike.  Sometimes it’s watching television and I have to quickly pull out my phone, go to my notes app, and type the idea, before it’s lost into the cosmic graveyard where all brilliant, but forgotten ideas go to be buried with their hearts heavy and leaking, their heads dragging three quarters of a mile behind them because if they were only remembered the world might have changed for the better.

On Tuesday an inkling of something did come to me and it actually stayed as if begging to be thought of, written about, so I began to turn it over in my head, like I sometimes do to make sure it could live between my brain and my computer. It started out more like a question acutally; one that I find myself always asking this time of year and maybe reader you do as well if you are someone who cringes when the Christmas decorations come out, all of that over-inflated reindeer, elves, and candy canes littering the front yard of so many. The overly cheerful music that plays over and over again and again causes your ears to begin to bleed. The old men who dress up as Santa Claus so children can sit on their wrinkled laps make your spine tingle. Why would a grown man want to be around kids? You ask yourself. And you can't help but to stare at all the people who populate the world and more importantly your place in it. Why are they so cheeriful amidst the cold and the crowds? It's like they have quite literally come out of whoville with their upturned red tinted noses and round bellies full of gingerbread cookies, sugar rimmed ham, hot chocolate and whatever else you eat to get into the Christmas spirit.  If that all turns your stomach to a putrid green, causes you to roll your eyes at the inauthenticity of it all, the fact that there is soon going to be endless amounts of family time, smiles that threaten to break your whole face into half, limitless amounts of sweets and carbs in your future, then you may have wanted to adopt a new holiday. 

FESTIVUS is the holiday in quesiton (if you know, you know, but if you don’t than I will enlighten you).

This new holiday appeared on an episode of the late 90s sitcom Seinfield. I rewatch this particular episode every year (It’s season 9, episode 10, entitled “the Strike” if you were wondering.)  and if you haven’t seen it then shame on you, where have you been and I don’t think we can be friends.  A lot happens and it’s not just about Christmas or should I say the lack there of, but it does center around George’s father Frank, who decides to bring a holiday that he created back called Festivus.  Festivus is an anti-commercial holiday that traditionalizes an aluminum pole, airing your grievances, and feats of strength.  And I don’t know about you, but I would forgo Christmas for such an alternative.  A holiday where the exchanging of gifts is not a thing. It always feels like it’s more about the giver than the receiver anyway.  An opportunity for family members to apologize for how they treated you throughout the year.  Sorry for the name I gave you, sorry for not spending enough time with you, sorry for not being there when you needed me, just sorry for anything else I may have forgotten, but here is this present so whatever you may be aggravated about should be forgotten amidst all of that bright Christmas wrapping, tinsel, and don't forget the sparkiling card.   Maybe instead of all of those gifts we air the grievances that have annoyed us throughout the year, then we can start afresh, anew, all the dirt and grime now out in the open to be discussed, analyzed, gotten over.  I think this type of communication would be a great deal healthier than burying that grievance somewhere between yesterday and today. 

Feats of strength can be useful as well, especially if you are of the more aggressive sort.  It may help to prove your worth to that brother, sister, nephew, aunt or at the very least help others to see what they could potentially go up against if they were to cross you in the end.  I find that it doesn’t hurt for humans to have a certain kind of pecking order.

I would have my grievances of course, like everyone else, but I warn you they may be more extensive because I tend to hold on to things.  I often pray that I will one day forget whatever it is that annoys me about a certain person so that it doesn't fester in the pit of my overly full stomach like some rotten undigested meat.  It would be so cleansing, I sometimes think, like the best colonoscopy, to have a designated moment in time to air my grievances with the world and the people who live within it.

Maybe one day people will get tired of celebrating a holiday that was at first based around Jesus’ birth, even though historians have collectively agreed that he wasn’t born in December, some believe that it was actually some time in March.  I have read many reasons why December 25th was the chosen date.  It may be that it aligned with the Winter Solstice and the Pagan Festival Co-option and that's why we celebrate this particular date. Whatever it is I think we can all agree that Christmas has gotten out of control. There's just too many fat Santas, devilish elf on the shelves, runaway Polar Express trains, obnoxious advent calendars where you either dress up or drink yourself to death.  Wouldn’t a simple airing of grievances and a wrestling match be better, less stressful, and accomplish so much more?  

This is all just food for thought as you rush around trying to please the ones’ in your life that need all of that pleasing. Festivus is a holiday that is not a celebration, but rather something for the rest of us to enjoy who do not believe in such commercialization of a moment in history that was meant to be one thing and is now unrecognizable. But maybe, just maybe we can come back to ourselves and recognize this season for what it is: a plunge into inauthentic humanity, and honestly I'm okay with that if we recognize such a thing for what is it. It's the inauthentiicity that bothers me, and isn't that true with most things? So, if you can regonize why you like Christmas, not becuase of Jesus, but because of something that is dark green, oblong in shape and size and sometimes a bit worn down, than I suppose it's okay in the end.