holiday sneer

Admittedly, I'm one of those fools who is capable of feeling sitcom special style holiday ambiance. It strikes as a kind of cerebral jingling. It's the overdone lighting spectacles and the half-inch snowflake showers and the recordings of children's choirs and the warmth that comes from entering a decorated establishment after walking seven blocks in the freezing wind. There is a moment when the tears on my nearly frostbitten eyeballs well up, the scene becomes a Christmastime blur and I nearly have a yuletide seizure. This sounds like it may be disorienting, and it is, but it's not at all unpleasant.

I mentioned that this overwhelming sensation resembles a sitcom's Christmas special's intended mood enhancement. I seldom watch television at this age, but as a child I camped next to a fire, which crackled in a Franklin stove, and in front of a television through most of my vacation from school. A point was made to view as many Christmas specials, particularly animations, in order to saturate myself with this feeling.

Cynicism is a trait of mine, and I justify it well. And however being an atheist, the jadedness hasn't seeped into the celebration of Christmas. The meteorological, the auditory and visual changes in the holiday season are probably more important to my emotional epilepsy toward it than are the honoring of a human god or the tradition of gift exchange. Some folks could make me sick with the amount of preparation and effort they devote to the season, while others sadden me in the way they regard some of the traditions.

I speak of reunion with family and gift giving as traditions that can be debased with one's attitude. To touch lightly on the reuniting: my family is without interpersonal grievances as far as I know. The people I hear talk here and there speak of grudges held against and distaste for seeing certain members. It puzzles me that for some no gathering is without discomfort. At any party one is likely to want to avoid or only feel obligated to talk with another party goer. To me, being home with the bloodline is a solace from my social life, which is sometimes filled with awkwardness and avoidance. My family, however lame it may sound, is a major key to my psychological support.

While I was dining at the Brady Street Pharmacy today, I observed a young woman sit down next to a man shoveling down pancakes at the bar section. She began rambling to him in a mildy upset manner, while he barely acknowledged and never slowed his devouring of the nighttime breakfast. The girl was shaken because she was buying movies for her relatives and didn't know that one she had bought was released last year. She was sure her father had the movie, and didn't like the idea that he would have to exchange it, but he wouldn't be able to get a refund. She brought up a movie she had gotten for the pancake-eating man. He had apparently hated it, but he made no indication either way.

We happened to leave the counter at about the same time, so I followed the conversation all the way to the cash register. She still carried on, in disbelief that she would give movies as gifts that the people she knew either didn't like or already had. "Just get him a fruitcake!" I wanted to offer. The idea of returning gifts is appauling to me. I'd sooner spread the wealth by donating the duplicate movie to the local thrift store and allow someone to score a bargain. If by some large oversight the gift I receieved from someone was absolutely and totally useless to me, there's a good chance I'd say my thank you, make up a terrific story about how I'll use it, and stash it somewhere forever.

A sigh of relief is granted to myself when all the presents I have bought for my kin are exposed to them. Sometimes I think we all should just take a trip to Florida like I've heard others' families do for the holidays. But then, I'm more afraid to fly than disappoint Uncle Larry. (I don't have an Uncle Larry. I just wanted not to offend a particular family member.)

Christmas doesn't turn me on and make me frisky, and I've spoken of Christmas quite enough now. I am beginning to get a distaste for the subject. My true ultimate intolerance for the season is showing through, I guess. If this were a Christmas card, I'd wish you a white Christmas or something. I don't know. How about this for a sendoff in a Christmas greeting card? May all your gifts please you, or at least be returnable.