'Tis the Season, After All...

My editor is forcing me to write about something topical today. Normally I would resist, because this is a Monday, and nobody wants to read anything topical on a Monday. However, my car's odometer hit 77,777 miles this morning on my way to the office. I considered this a sign of good fortune, so I was comply The Man's request.

My editor is also forcing me to note that he is not "The Man," but merely the pawn to an even greater "Man."

I was going to comply, that is, until our morning staff meeting, wherein I was informed that, due to budget constraints, I would no longer receive compensation for my articles (meaning that the suits are taking away the free coffee). Ergo, I'm going to write about something entirely off-subject from what my brow-beaten and defeated editor intended.

What is it about Christmas that always brings out the worst in people?

Ostensibly, this is a holiday to celebrate, if nothing else, friends, family, and togetherness. It's a time of reflection, if you will, moreso even than Thanksgiving, about everything that's happened through the year, and a time to show the people we care about just how much we care about them (i.e. how much are we willing to spend). Of course many people attach all manner of religious significance to the season, which well and good and admirable, but analyzing or contrasting one religion's view against another's is not the point of this piece.

No, I'm wondering what it is about "the holidays" (if you will) that causes fist fights in a toy store? That makes bad drivers turn into angry drivers? That causes store clerks to judge customers by their attire? That causes us so much stress?

Perhaps it's that this holiday has grown larger than its month. We know that this is so because retail stores now start stocking and displaying their holiday fare in late October, when the ghosts, goblins, and naughty nurses are still lurking in the streets and barrooms of our fair cities. We also know this because how many of us can honestly say we spend two nights in a row in our homes doing nothing? There are presents to buy and wrap, Christmas parties to attend, decorations to hang, relatives to visit, parades and pageants to see--an ever-expanding, dizzying array of glitz and dazzle that becomes more and more like a gauntlet to be run.

Perhaps for some it is the sheer financial burden of Christmas. (I would include Hanukkah in this point, but from all appearances Christmas is tremendously more expensive than its Jewish counterpart). With all of the gifts (whose prices seem to increase pari passu with the cut-backs in my paycheck) and decorations and parties to be thrown and clothes to be bought and tips to be left, Christmas is a tremendous financial strain on the average celebrant. This is certainly true for this writer (who is not even paid with coffee any more). Christmas often reminds us where we are on the economic Great Chain of Being. Just yesterday this writer watched at a retail perfume counter as customers with less expensive-looking attire were passed over for wealthier-looking customers, as if to say, "You don't look like you can afford this, so talking to you will be a waste of time." Happy Holidays, Mr. Working Class. Your money's no good here.

Thus I ask you, gentle reader, what it is about the season of peace that escalates one's blood pressure to nadolol range? Should not this be a time for us to slow down the hectic pace of these modern lives we lead so well in order to appreciate (at the risk of sounding like an LDS commercial) the often-ignored joys of family, friends, and joyous fellowship? Should not this celebration go beyond economic and geographic barriers to be a celebration of humankind in commune, regardless of differences in religion, race, ethnicity, politics, ad. infinitum? Have we turned a delightful holiday tradition into a terrifying corporate juggernaut?

Just a few questions to ponder as you sit in traffic at the mall, slamming your fists into your steering wheel and spreading Christmas cheer with your horn and middle finger...all to get those last few gifts.

Cheers and Happy Holidays,

Lockhart.