From Cindy Lou Who, when she told the Grinch and all of Whoville. From Jimmy Stewart every year, trapped in his black-and-white wonderful-life time warp. Charlie Brown said it. Even totally lame shows on the SyFy Channel try to get the point across.
I don’t think any of them succeed for more than a few
seconds. About the time it takes for viewers to pretend they’re not a little
choked up—or that they are—and get off the sofa to hit the head or pour some
more eggnog. Dad grabs another beer and Mom dabs the corner of her eye with a
tissue while Sis rolls hers and fires up the smartphone to check her Facebook.
Little Bro wants to know can they watch a movie now. And those are the people actually tuning in to the yearly Ho-Ho-Jingle-Bell Blah, Blah together, in the same room. Imagine that.
So there’s this little moment where something tries to sink
in. Then it passes, and it’s business as usual. Another year and another big glitter-ball set to drop
in a near future we almost have the foresight to envision. Almost. I suspect if
they did away with the Super Bowl a big chunk of America would lose their año
nuevo compass altogether, drift around with zombie eyes like folks north of the arctic circle in January, their needles pointing in all directions and none. Stars and moon and seasons don't cut it any more. Got to be big and gaudy and well-lit to be seen over
the horizon these days. Otherwise Miley’s tongue might eclipse you.
Who cares, says a large slice of population. It’s all
marketing. Get real. And in a way they’re right. It is. But, like a lot of
marketing, it’s actually trying to sell you something good. Unfortunately, we’re so
inundated with people trying to sell us bullshit that it’s safer to just assume
it all falls into that category.
And it must fall into a category. That way you know what to do with it.
But I digress. The category in this case is Holiday Cheer.
Snappy, huh? Pulling Your Head Out Of Your Ass And Seeing
What Really Matters, not so much. Honesty makes shitty marketing, for the most
part. This isn’t anything new. Even Jesus had to market his teachings to the
masses, and I’m pretty sure he understood that meant selling out to human
nature. I could list all the adjectives covering that, but you probably get it. People who
show up at the ER with a candy cane stuck in their rectum. Or worse. Jack Ass goes to Washington, with stops in L.A. and New York along the way.
The end result is that we pay the obligatory lip service to what this “season” is supposed to
mean. But looking around makes it pretty clear it’s just that.
Us blowing ourselves.
Oh, there are always people who get it. One of my favorite authors had his first post-surgery radiation
treatments to battle brain cancer around this time last year. He sits down with
family and friends, dude gets it. He probably did before all that, but he's an exceptional guy. Most of us aren't.
So I’m sitting around in my slippers and fleece pajama pants writing
this post. I can’t go back to work for a few more days due to mechanical issues, and that’s going to
kick my ass financially. Been off since Tuesday evening, and you know what? I
love it. Yesterday, I did some major surgery myself, on a peach tree that broke
under the strain of wind and ice. Then I pruned its little cousins. Four days and counting
of being with my wife and our little family of fuzzy-butts, cooking good food
and watching good movies and listening to good music, doing chores around the
place, smelling the earth and fallen leaves and wood smoke and feeling the
sunshine or the cold wind on my face.
And yet I got up this morning worried about how taking a week of is going to affect us.
Then Victoria asked what was wrong, and looking at her with the covers up to her neck and a puppy on her head, I realized nothing was, and it didn’t matter. We'll get
through like we always do.
So I think I’ll go see why our bathroom
plumbing is backing up, prune an apple tree, maybe prep some beds and plant next summer’s garlic. Nothing like getting your hands dirty with someone you love to celebrate
the days.
All of them.
How about you?
SR
SR
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