Sunday December 26 2004I don’t celebrate Xmas. Not since I was nine years old anyway. I woke up that fateful morning to find my drunken grandfather had put on a Santa suit, and hanged himself from the banister with my little sisters jump rope. Santa has been dead to me since then. I used to go to a psychologist who told me that ignoring Xmas is un-healthy. I got tired of all the criticism. Now I go to a psychiatrist who tells me it's unhealthy to ignore Xmas; then writes me a prescription. I go to great lengths each year to avoid the inane “Xmasisms” that begin in late October:
Television
I don’t watch television from Halloween through the Chinese New Year. I hate being bombarded by advertisements for the perfect gift. I don’t have any friends and if I did I wouldn’t buy them a gift. What would be the point? I don’t like being given gifts either. If I decide I need a nose hair trimmer or a foot spa, I will go buy one for myself. As if the advertising wasn’t offensive enough, almost every TV show is decorated for Xmas. The shows that aren’t decorated put a little piece of holly or a snowman in the bottom right hand corner of the screen. Even the news is schlepping Xmas. Television is just impossible.
Radio
I don’t listen to the radio from Halloween through Chinese New Year either. It is equally unbearable. The stations which play all Xmas music all the time are easy enough to stay away from because they are always playing Xmas music. The ones that throw in an Xmas song every so often should be outlawed. There is no way to know if they are going to play one or not. This is disingenuous. About the time I let my guard down, here comes Holly Jolly Xmas, or Barbara Streisand's version of Jingle Bells. Excruciating! The same goes for the stations that don’t play any Xmas music all season but then on Xmas eve they play a marathon. It drives me insane!
I burn all of my mail from Thanksgiving through Martin Luther King Day. I pay my bills on-line so I am certain that any mail I get around this time of year is just more advertising for perfect gifts (there is no such thing by the way), 0% interest till April credit card offers and unwanted Xmas cards from unwanted friends. My real friends, if I had any, would know better.
Public Places
I try not to go outside of my house from Thanksgiving through St. Patrick’s Day, especially at night. Everywhere I look I see nativity scenes and illuminated plastic Santas. The houses on my street are so brightly lit that I have to close all of my curtains to get to sleep at night. What really hacks me off is that some of my lazy neighbors don’t take down their lights until the first weekend in March. Last year some kids built a snowman in my front yard. I shot at them with rock salt then had them arrested for trespassing.
To help me to avoid the Xmasisms in mid-October I stock up on enough supplies to get through New Years. That way I avoid the crowds. This year, I had an extremely rude houseguest who managed to use a hundred rolls of toilet paper and a case of Lysol during her 1-week stay. She also ate all of my Ramen Noodles and Vienna Sausages. For some unknown reason she took all of my Levitra pills and a few other unmentionables. Suffice it to say that I found myself in need of provisions by Xmas eve.
I ventured out to the Super Wal-Mart against my better judgment. The traffic was hell. I managed to find a parking place about a third of a mile from the store. As soon as I got out of my car, I slipped and fell on the ice. It felt like I had broken my tailbone but I managed to get up. I made it about half way to the store when I began to hear the annoying sound of a Salvation Army bell ringer. I turned and headed back toward my car. Charity is something I don’t handle well but that’s another story.
I drove around from store to store but there were bell ringers everywhere. Finally I found a Super Target. I had to park a third of a mile away again but at least the Salvation Army wasn’t around. It was pretty picked over but I was able to find everything that I needed (except the Levitra, the pharmacist said there had been a run on it and he would be out till after New Years). I saw a guy in a Santa hat. It made me think of Grandpa.
Copyright © 2004 Quaid Davis. All rights reserved.
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