Not A Blog™

I wish I could take the day off today. Not in the sense of writing here; that’s not a big deal. I mean in the sense of truly taking the day off—having no interpersonal commitments and not being expected to show up and participate in activities. This violates certain unwritten rules.

There’s something about this holiday—this series of holidays falling between the end of November and the beginning of January—that demands participation. Maybe that’s the definition of a “holiday”. To me, a holiday is just that: a day off. Who is to dictate what you do on your day off? Society, natch.

I had a rather interesting conversation a few weeks ago. It was regarding the odd practice of people who normally would never associate going out of their way to do something “special” on one or the other’s birthday or on a holiday. On a special day, people who cannot stand each other will do the quintessential “putting aside of differences” and put up with each other for four hours and partake in some eating ritual. This does nothing except to convince both people that the other person really is nuts, and it sure is a good thing we only get together these few times a year because otherwise someone would end up in an unpleasent situation.

I don’t get it. The holiday is a special time, right? It comes once a year and all that. So why does everyone go out of their collective ways to do something they may not want to do? If you are not the type who would normally hang out with me the rest of the year, why are you calling me—nay, expecting me—to hang out on the dang holiday? The problem has been exacerbated to the point where I need to take an extra day off, just so I can get out of the holiday what I want to get out of it, and which my family, my culture, forbids.

Allow me, if I may, to complain about this consumer-fest day of the year in particular. My father made a very curious comment this moring which I will be getting to, shortly. But first, and correct me if I’m wrong, but I seem to recall that the purpose of Christmas is to celebrate the birth of one, Jesus Christ. Note that I’m fully aware the holiday was borrowed—usurped, even—from some pagan groups as a way to replace pagan rituals with something more Christian. But let’s go with today’s cultural norm, shall we?

So Christmas equals celebrating Christ’s birth. When I was young, I used to remember being horrified that some people didn’t celebrate Christmas. They wouldn’t get any presents! I was a very pragmatic young boy. Yes, I knew of this Jesus fellow—but gifts! So practical. Later I grew up.

Today I don’t want gifts, nor do I want to have to bother with the human ritual of trying to figure out what gifts I should get for others. There seems to be a balance of things, here: the gift must be appropriately expensive, useful, and novel. Lack any one of these and you look like a cheapskate. Fortunately there is a sufficient variety in alcohol to fit the bill in all three catagories. Regardless, this gift giving is largely incidental, not to mention annoying, in light of the supposedly larger reasons for the holiday. Besides, I have enough crap; I don’t want more.

So, since Christ is, as the song goes, all we need, gifts are largely incidental, correct? I mean, assuming you’re a Christian. My father is a Christian. I was not a part of this conversation, however, others in the family were discussing this very subject. My father said, “you get people gifts to show you care.”

I have nothing to say to this. It is the state of our culture today. Things mean emotion. They mean you care. Inept at expressing appropriate emotions, I have used this trick (again, pragmatically) on numerous occassions, however, I have always regarded it shallow at best, disingenuous at worst. But among Those Who Know, it counts. I remain baffled.

I have no problem if others want to celebrate Christmas—or any other holiday. I’m certainly not going to be so presumptuous as to tell you what you should be doing on your holiday. But neither am I interested in going through these motions. To many, I’m sure they’re the meaningful memories which define a life. To me, they’re empty movements.

I don’t know if it’s possible for me to take this holiday off. But the first Christmas in which I am no longer living among my family, I shall endeavor to try. I will take Christmas off. This consists of: not buying gifts, not receiving gifts, and above all, not partaking in visitation traditions.

I do not restrict anyone’s celebration of the holiday; in return, I ask only the same.

-Ted