Christmas, Peanuts & someone else’s Snow Day

I'm having fun this Christmas season, as compared to some years past where I could really care less. I have paper snowflakes in my windows, along with lights, and cards on almost every conceivable surface not covered in plant life or books. In a fit of YAY!, last night I went and bought the soundtrack to A Charlie Brown Christmas from Starbucks. And I am thrilled. It's lovely, simple Christmas music and will go nicely with the Bing Crosby CD I ordered from Amazon to replace the one that was destroyed in the gutter truck years ago. Anyway, in the cover appears the following quote:

"Charlie Brown wasn't a happy kid at Christmas 1965. The holidays were supposed to be a time of optimism, of receiving gifts and sending greeting cards. Of choosing and decorating lush, green trees, of spending time with friends and family and of stretching a holiday event into a while month of activity. Growing older, Charlie Brown began to notice the over commercialization of Christmas… 'I think there must be something wrong with me,' he said to his friend Linus."

As I sat here listening to the cool jazz that everyone associates with Charlie Brown and thinking about this, it was brought home even deeper than normal how badly all of the basic ideas of Christmas have deteriorated in the face of commercialism and apathy. Yes, apathy. Although we rush around, desperately trying to find a gift for everyone we think thinks they deserve one from us, trying to fit in concerts and parties and soirees and card writing, I think that a lot of people sink into a well of since-I-bought-them-a-present/went-to-their-party/wrote-them-a-Christmas-card, I don't need to worry about actually talking to them or, heaven forbid, letting them know at some other time in the year that I care about them. Not that I'm guiltless here. I mean, I use Christmas cards to maintain an often tenuous contact with friends that I should by all rights call. But there then, I also use them to try and establish contact with family members that have slowly drifted out of my life. But that's beside the point. The point is that around the holidays we can get apathetic about letting loved ones know that they are truly loved and aren't just a name on a card list, and that we love them all year round.

I guess what I'm saying is that this year I'm more upset than ever about what Christmas is becoming. Not what it has become, not yet, because many people still celebrate the real reason we have Christmas – the birth of the Christ and what that meant to mankind – and many people still experience Christmas as a wonderful time for family and friends. However, you only have to open the newspaper the day after Thanksgiving to see what They (the amorphous They it would be too difficult to define) want us to see as Christmas: a chance to buy the love of our children/parents/friends/spouses and assuage our guilt for past wrongs, the best time of the year to out-do the Joneses, a time to pick through the best sales of the year for the receiver and of course yourself. Christmas is about family and friends, about giving gifts not because we feel obligated to or we want to create a sense of obligation on the part of the receiver but because we want to see that person's smile when they see something we thought long and hard about and finally bought because we honestly thought they would like it. I'm having a great time shopping for my parents this year. I'm totally looking forward to Christmas morning when they open their presents. And it's not because I feel obligated to repay the years of gifts they've gotten me or because I want to one-up my brother (okay, not much); it's because I tell my parents that I love them every year and this is like the icing on the cake, the ……. we're getting Dad and the ……… we're getting Mom.

I think my favorite example this year of what Christmas should really mean in a secular context comes from the Yarn Harlot, who got snowed in a couple days ago, in the middle of a massive knitfest to attempt the finishing of an unbelievable number of projects and last minute shopping. At first she freaked out, but then they invited their neighbors over for cookie-decorating and friendship (you can read about it here. Look for the Snow Day entry). That is Christmas. Frantic last minute shopping, not Christmas, no matter what the "comedies" would like us to think. Christmas is a time for gathering together and being thankful for everyone we have and for everything we have been given. I am now stepping off my soap box for the evening.

Note: So many aspects of the over-commercialization of Christmas drive me crazy that I had to leave several of them out, or this post would have been HUGE and I know Zach never reads my long blogs. I'm having fun with Christmas but every time I hear about "the new big thing" I just want to swear off Christmas presents for the next few years.

Psychic

Contrary to the opinion held by many, including (until today) myself, I. Am Psychic. Yes, I, Mindy the Magnificent, am able to read peoples' minds. You question me, citing my apparent difficulty with being sympathetic, much less empathetic or telepathic?? Behold, The Proof:

A contractor called and asked if we carry rebar. I told him that yes, we do. After getting his name, I told him that I could predict what he was going to order. His order would be, in point of fact, rebar. I was correct, of course. Then he decided to get tricky and asked me what exactly he was planning on ordering. After a few milliseconds searching the ether for the answer, I stumbled upon his brainwaves and told him "25 pieces of number 3 rebar." He started laughing and said, no really, this is what he honestly said, "you're right!" I laughed, too, and was all, "you're just trying to make me feel good about being completely wrong," but apparently I really was right!!!! *laugh* It was so funny!! We both had a good laugh about it, punctuated by me saying "no, seriously, is that really what you want?" Ahem, I mean, yes, I, Mindy the Mellifluous, have triumphed against the skepticism of ... people... um.... like me. It almost totally made up for some of the stupid things I had done earlier in the day, like get out of bed. I think I may have to post a picture of my bed, because it may be the world's most snuggly, comfortable, dangerously warm bed. But I did get out, and I did have my incredible psychic moment *snickers* and now I get to go back to bed. Whoo hoo for bedtime!

PS Happy birthday my darling Nicio!! Again I am the worst cousin/ex-roomie! But someday I will remember!!
PPS It is so stinking cold right now. And no snow of course. But it is pulling up the fog, so my castle is once again shrouded in mysterious mist. Unfortunately, I got home too late to really enjoy it by reading old mystery novels or Two Towers. Or finish writing more Christmas cards.
PPPS I have decided that as much as I like the Phantom of the Opera movie, as far as soundtracks go I definitely prefer the original cast recording, even though I think I would probably be cast as the prima donna.
PPPPS G'night, all!

NPR

This wasn't going to be my next topic. I have actually been meaning to blog about how incredibly thankful I am for my life and friends and family, but instead, I am about to reveal the depths of my utter dorkiness: I love NPR. Specifically, I love the shows that you can listen to on NPR that you don't find anywhere else. I've been listening to "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" while attempting Christmas cards and I've had to stop because I'm laughing so hard that I'm about to seriously color outside the lines. Since my wonderful Uncle Jimmy bequeathed me a pair of computer speakers I have been able to listen to podcasts of various different programs, in addition to my music (finally!). I like the news shows (as much as I can), especially since they cover topics that I would never hear about otherwise. I can listen to Latino USA and keep somewhat keeped…. I can't believe I just wrote that. I can listen to Latino USA and keep somewhat up to date (there we go) on things happening in the other half of America. If I tune in at the right time to the LCC station from Eugene I can listen to all sorts of Latino music announced in Spanish. I can learn about art, science, music, history, current events, and just about anything else. Perhaps the best part is that I have an alternative to listening to the same 100 songs over and over and over again. Or those ridiculously moronic morning shows. Am I the only one who thinks that most of those shows are STUPID?

I have the sneaking suspicion that this intense love for NPR comes from my family listening to Prairie Home Companion and Unshackled, not to mention other shows, when I was a little girl. I can distinctly remember when we lived in the bottom story of my grandparents' house, tuning into the AM station for Unshackled, or while we were on our way to church in Grants Pass on Sundays. When I was in my teens, I would carefully hunt for the one station that would play the old radio shows at 10 pm on Thursdays, carefully placing my radio to pick up whatever faint signal I could get. The radio makes me feel safe and comfortable in a way that television never can. Okay, as long as you don't mention the time we were camping out at the logging site with Grandpa and listened to the one with the church bell and the monster that still gives me nightmares. *shivers* Ohhh, it was creepy! I wonder if I could find it again…

Now, I know some of you are out there rolling your eyes about what a supreme geek I am and how glad you are that you have more of a life than to sit around listening to radio shows, for crying out loud, on the computer. All I have to say is, this is what I enjoy! Unlike watching television, listening to the radio allows me to multi-task. TV invades my brain through any available USB port and makes it rather difficult to do much else. Oops, I'm degenerating into my anti-TV rant, which is a topic for a later blog! So, yes, dorky it may be, but at least I have something to listen to at night now! I do admit that I've been catching up on my old movies as well, courtesy of the library. Does anyone else suddenly get the sense that I'm starting to ramble?