Bah Humbug

That's it.

It's gone.

What little ounce left of holiday cheer and Christmas spirit is gone.

And I knew it was gone when we watched, "Mickey's Christmas Carol" tonight and at the end everyone had that happy smile on their face when Tiny Tim gets picked up by Scrooge and then I turned to the people there and said, "Just your standard liberal propaganda." It got a couple laughs, but I was serious about it. I followed up with, "You know, this kind of stuff is meant for kids. You gotta get 'em started early."

And with that, I heard Santa sigh a little bit. Baby Jesus' cry was muffled and the Star of David turned slightly dull.

Another adult lost to the mentality of "Just another day on the calendar".

How did I get here? I used to be so excited about Christmas. And ever since that one special Christmas eve night (almost 10 years ago now), it's just become cheapened for me.

How I got here:

A) Commercialization of Christmas. Constantly trying to find the perfect gift for everyone. And knowing it'll never happen. And not getting gifts for people I know are going to get me gifts. And looking at a lot of my gifts and saying, "This is going to be a re-gift". As a kid I was definitely excited to get toys and money. But now? There is nothing I want that I don't already have. There is nothing that could really be bought for me (that someone could realistically afford) that would have actual meaning to me (other than an inside joke or something of that sort). I suppose it doesn't help that the "recession" word has been on everyone's lips for the past month.

B) Lack of spirituality. When I was younger I'd go to every single advent candle lighting. We'd have an advent calendar. I'd go down to Saint Marks because they had special Christmas season programs for the monks. I loved caroling, and even to this day I still enjoy Christmas music. On that last special Christmas, there was a hokey retelling of the birth of Jesus in our standing room only sanctuary. Where the light from an angel was a youngster willing to climb a ladder and shine a flash light down on a baby. On that Christmas the bell that rang at midnight to mark the change from Christmas eve to Christmas I felt to my core. It's an odd thing to say, but that night I felt like God was there, hugging us all. But no more. After almost 10 years of going to the midnight service, which I have continued to see dwindle every year in attendance since then (or maybe because the sanctuary is just too big and cold now) I am actually debating on going. If someone had asked me 5 years ago, there was no question I was going to be there. "This is a holiday tradition!" I would've scoffed. I have talked about living a balanced life a lot on this blog. I feel that this is one of the main things I am missing.

C) A combination of the holidays sneaking up on me and the routine just being that - routine. Being in Charleston until Halloween did not help my holiday attitude. I feel as if someone picked me up out of September and dumped me off in to the middle of December. There has been so much that has happened the past 2 months that I don't feel like I've had the chance to really settle in. And because of that, spending time with old friends and family just doesn't seem as interesting as it used to. Heck, we'll even have a white Christmas this December and instead of rekindling my childlike joy I curse the snow for screwing up the roads. I don't know how people like me put up the facade during family times, but I've done it pretty well. Or maybe not, of course no one's going to mention that they can see right through me. Hopefully they can't.

So there you go. Ba Humbug. To completely deflate myself on the way home tonight I said, "You know, if I was given the opportunity to work on Christmas, I'd put in at least 10 hours. I'd rather take the holiday pay. Heck, they're making me work on Christmas eve anyway."

It's just another day on the calendar. Nothing special. And why we put so much emphasis on that day to actually make it feel special just sets people like me up for this kind of failure later on in life.

I'll just be in the back corner counting my gold coins. Tap me on the shoulder in February when all of this holiday crap has passed. And until then you can call me Ebenezer.