‘Tis the season for pensive and sappy messages. I’m so sorry, but it’s true. They’re appearing in TV commercials, in client and vendor emails - letters received in the mail about the joys of the season, and now’s the time to be grateful and all that. I hate being a cynic, but it all appears to be virtue signaling to me. The people I know sending these messages are savage businesspeople, and this move to virtue makes me shake my head. It’s like times running out, and they’re throwing a Hail Mary pass to make Santa’s good list. Maybe these people really are kind and generous and are thankful for their bountiful blessings, and the season is a gift meant for a deeper understanding of the commonalities of mankind, and that the cockles of their heart swell with the love of the joy of the togetherness of their fellow man, and the brotherhood of- …and all that. I can’t help but roll my eyes. I seriously doubt many of these people have heart cockles. I question whether some of them even have hearts, but, man, this time of year people eat this stuff up.
My father and I watched a lady on the local news early Sunday morning deliver such a message. Her message was about enjoying the season by simplifying it to the essentials. It’s a similar message that we all hear over this time of year. I was unmoved. My dad, though, was over the moon about it. He thought it was great. He repeated the message aloud several times, full of energy. "Dad," I wanted to say, "you hear this same message over and over again every year. There’s nothing new here." Instead, I kept quiet. The message made him feel good, and I guess that matters for something.
‘Tis season for extras, though. Whoever you are, you can justify something a little bit extra this time of year. “It only comes around once a year, so why not just a little more?” we say. A little more to eat. An extra slice of pie or two. Maybe a whole extra pie. Fill the wine glass a little fuller than normal … each time. An extra gift for someone and maybe an extra one for you, too. Leave the office a little early and then a little earlier and then earlier. Every day of the year only comes around once a year, but these are…different. These days are a part of the Christmas season, which, per the displays at Lowes, begins mid-October, making the Christmas season nearly a quarter of the year.
Some, like my wife and kids, have no problems with this. What does it matter, they say, if we like the decorations and they make us happy? My position is that the shorter it is, the more intense and special it is. If your default mode is that it’s nearly always Christmas, what’s so special about it? At least that’s what I say to myself, sitting all alone, while what remains of the cockles of my heart burn to cinders.
I’m Cam Marston, and I’m just trying to Keep it Real.
