Reluctant Spirit

Wendy is crazy. So is Kelly. I can't believe how early they got up to do their Christmas shopping yesterday. 3 AM? 4 AM? The real madness is that there were lines in each instance, and these weren't remote occurrences. All across the nation, people either completely mad or truly dedicated to their families embraced Black Friday, waking up insanely early to battle crowds and catch bargains a month before Christmas, and a good three weeks before I'll probably be shopping.

I suppose their actions are commendable, but I personally dislike crowds at any time, especially during hours I reserve for sleeping and dreaming of a better life. Every year, my holiday spirit seems to decline a little bit more. Earlier and earlier, commercials skew toward the holiday season. If movies only have a few holiday scenes, the trailers magically focus on them. Garland and lights begin to insidiously creep over houses and street signs. When I walked into work last Wednesday, I entered a perfectly ordinary office lobby. When I left for the long weekend, there was a wreath and a tree set up already. Radio stations are cluttered with holiday music, and people in the halls may belt into song without warning.

I'm not sure when I soured on the magic of the holidays. I used to look forward to getting presents every year, and playing in the snow. Now buying presents is a chore, and snow is nothing more than an impediment to driving. Maybe this is a natural phase between being a kid, and being an adult with kids. One good thing this year is that there were several family members I didn't get to see last year, whose presents are still wrapped. The workload will be less. At some point, gift giving loses its meaning and becomes more about “trading” than an actual gesture of generosity. Why do I have to get a gift for So-and-so? Because So-and-so always gets me something. I wonder if somewhere relatives aren't having the same exchange about me. It'd be nice to restrict gift giving outside my immediate family to children, and just buy things for my cousins' kids.

I realize how horrible this all sounds. It's not about money. I have a decent job and I live at home. I can afford to buy presents. It's about sheer unadulterated laziness. Every year I have to go to stores, battle crowds, accumulate about 50 items for my parents, aunts, uncles, cousins and their children, and subsequently wrap, label and sort them. Every year at this time I'm still in serious denial over the end of Summer and the falling thermometer. Holiday decorations hammer the point home that it's now Winter. Sometime in my life, “I can't wait for Christmas!” became “I can't wait until the holidays are over!” At some point, I became the Grinch.

Of course, I'm just letting off steam. Eventually every year I brace myself, set foot in stores, and get the job done. Last year I made my life easier and bought gift cards for all the adults in my extended family, and personal specific items only for children and my parents. More importantly, no matter how much I fight the holiday spirit in November, it still creeps under my skin and grows more powerful each week. Now I'm complaining; in a few weeks I'll be merrily wrapping and whistling carols. There are some who'd say marching in a parade at night this time of year is as mad as shopping, yet tonight I found myself way out in Patchogue surrounded by people in Santa hats and elves and various radio stations. The sidewalks were packed with families, and children huddled under blankets cheered as we played songs very much out-of-tune due to the cold metal of our instruments. It wasn't as cold as last year's parade, but it was cold enough. I still feel it in my bones. But I also liked seeing all the colored lights, brightly wrapped presents, and cheesy light-up plastic candy canes.

Holiday spirit. I fight it every year, and every year I lose, darn it.