I do not see Christmas the same way as others do , I am not apologetic about my views, I am not Grinch. But they do not coincide with the views of others.
I had a lady tell me the other day that she shops for 50 people at Christmas. And she can't wait to dive into the shopping fray, she loves shopping. I wonder if she loves people as much as the shopping. I did not say a word, so I scored majorly on the not an Asshole list with that one, because I could have just as easily said "What are you freakin nuts?" And I am sure I was not thinking "freakin" which had it been said would have jumped me to the top of the list .
Why am I this way ? Am I scarred from my youth ? If so I should re-adjust my thinking. Underwear and stripped polo shirts and pajamas --Christmas gifts of our past were surely not as desirable as a "Red Ryder BB Gun" of "You will shot your eye out" fame. But they were used and needed. In our largish clan we had our fair share of those gifts , but interspersed in the mix was always a few special gifts. So I would have to say my out of synch views do not stem from any deep seated emotional scars, save those which come from the realization that our parents had to start setting aside pennies in January to afford anything for Christmas in the following December. Their sacrifices are never far from my mind. They were children of the depression and I suspect that they were ever mindful of the deprivation that accompanied that economic disaster. Somehow I became a grandchild of the depression and I for some reason became somewhat similar. (Several of my siblings fall into the same category). My wife pretends to not be, but she has some of the same characteristics. The good thing about this is that our kids will not be saddled for half their lives with college loans, the bad thing is that we have become accustomed to driving our cars for a decade. We make do as much as possible.My wife complains that I wear my clothing for too long. I don't know, I have so many clothes. My shoes the same, but I have more than I need. I change my own oil, do my own landscaping, paint my own house, do my own repairs. My son has said to me "Why don't you hire someone to do that?" on more than one occasion. I do not know any better.
So getting round to Christmas, I have not wanted anything for Christmas for some long years now.
Why ? I have all that I need. if there is something I do want or need I will buy it. So because I have all that I need or want I tend to think that others must feel the same way and that is where I have to be careful to not become the Christmas Asshole. So we will spend a little for our children this time of year. I will fold a few bucks into envelopes for the food bank, we bought some toys for the children in need program, The homeless shelter got a nice gift from my wife . I thought I was well on my way to the true meaning of the season, giving for others in need. Need is never in short supply. I was cheered by this spirit. This cheerfulness is mine to be shared with whomever reads this. I see it differently but it does not mean that I am not enjoying it. I like the idea that some child named Mariel in Paterson NJ will open a present on Christmas Day that she would not have otherwise gotten, were it not for my church giving tree. She and I will never lay eyes upon each other, but I will see her Christmas Morning. The folks going to the soup kitchen may say a prayer of thanks on Christmas Eve as they pick up new socks and gloves and hats. I will join in their prayer.
Getting things is not going to make me happier. I don't keep score that way.
So I know it annoys when I answer nothing, to the question of "What do you want for Christmas?" But that is a truth. And the truth is that it will not make me enjoy the season any more or less.
But if you let it , my view of Christmas starts to flow and I begin to feel it palpably.
It starts to grow on you. So the other night on my way home the Bell Ringer in front of the Foodtown launched into a spirited rendition of Silver Bells, so I joined her in song as I dropped a couple of bucks into the Kettle. Loudly and without a single pleasant tone, we regaled those rushing by to shop. The Bell Ringer wished me a blessing as we finished our song. Strangely I had never done this before, and I was not the least bit embarrassed as I probably should have been. What was coming over me. I was moved by her song to join in with her. Only a few neighbors saw me belting out it's Christmas time in the city, but I also saw them fail to drop a coin in the pot.
Later as we ate dinner and I told my wife and son of my singing I just knew that they were thinking--
But they would be wrong. I am not the Christmas Asshole, I am just a regular asshole singing in front of the Foodtown..