Sunday, December 09, 2007

Happiest season?

Try as I may to keep cynicism at bay during the holidays, the onslaught of seasonal schmaltz is a merciless tease. A Christmas song bleated from my car radio today about "the hap, happiest season of all." And, ever the contrarian, my first thought was "bull dookie." Okay, I didn't use the word dookie, but I'm trying not to curse like a sailor, it being the holidays and all.

So, it's the happiest season, presumably because we all march like lemmings to retailers and spend money to create the perfect Christmas - which, of course, includes jewelry-bearing husbands, a surprise visit from a relative who wakes the household with fresh brewed Folgers and a small child or a lost pet who shows us all the true meaning of Christmas. Ever notice that the moral of made-for-TV Hallmark movies is always about gifts not being the true meaning of Christmas, yet every commercial urges you to buy, buy, buy? No wonder we're all so confused and agitated these days.

You see, I'm just not big on superlatives. They set up expectations and, lately, I've not been able to rank events in my life as better or worse, more or less fun, happiest or saddest. There's connection among events, one supports another. Events, seasons, situations ... they're all building blocks. I enjoy Christmas nowadays because I've cultivated relationships with my family and friends all year long. In years past, I've not been so lucky.

Yep, I got all that from a cynical reaction to a Christmas song. Oh, and I think I may have also broken out in hives.

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