Merry Merry

Merry Christmas everyone. Or Happy Hanukkah. Joyous Kwanza. If it was occurring this time of year – it very seldom is – I’d wish you a pleasant Ramadan. Certainly, have a fine Solstice or Saturnalia. Festivus for the rest of us for those Seinfeld fans (I don’t worship at that particular altar). I’m sure I’ve left some out. There are just so many religions; it’s hard for an atheist to keep track.

But I send each and every one of you Seasons’ Greetings – for whatever it means to you. That, after all, is the nature of communication. I send a message – containing what is meaningful to me – and you receive it and place your interpretation on it.

Some might say this is a war on Christmas. Which is to say, a war on exclusiveness. A war on imposing your particular religious views on everyone around you. Which, if you are an evangelical whatever, is exactly what your religion requires of you. I say whatever, because proselytization is not simply a Christian thing.

Anyway, all I’m really trying to say is that I grok this Christmas thing. Or things. It is, after all, a very amorphous event. Celebrated at solstice (or damn close to it) despite the fact the birth being celebrated was almost certainly a spring one (shepherds in their fields or big clue: Lamb of God; lambs being born in the spring). There was a lot of competition with other holidays and if you weren’t doing the solstice thing, you weren’t doing it right. I often wonder what would have happened if all these religions had been born at the equator where the solstice is just another day.

Then, of course, there are all those northern European tie-ins. Christmas trees and lights – bringing nature indoors, which by the way is specifically condemned in the Bible. And of course Santa Claus, who has as much to do with Krampus as Saint Nicholas (‘he knows if you’ve been bad or good’ is kind of a threat of punishment, isn’t it?).

For those who think Christmas has become too commercial – that part is in the Bible. Those three wise guys didn’t exactly stint on the birthday gifts. Gold and incense is kind of neat but myrrh? Wasn’t that used in embalming? Well, I guess they knew what was coming; they were Magi after all (which is just a fancy word for magician or fortune-teller).

But none of it really matters. I like it when people wish me Merry Christmas and I like to wish it back at them. Because what they are really wishing me is peace, joy and happiness. What they are hoping for is a new beginning better than the last messed up year. Why would anyone object to that? Sure a few cranky curmudgeons might get their knickers in a knot and proclaim their atheism from the mountaintop but who cares? They are no more fun than those supersensitive church goers who find offence at everything.

So Merry Christmas or whatever it is you celebrate. And if you don’t celebrate anything? I wish you well, my friend, I wish you well.

And that’s ten minutes (which is taking a few days off for Christmas).

Christmas Movies

If you wanted to – that is to say, if there was something wrong with you – you could find a Christmas themed movie to watch every day of Advent. Each day you would open up a sickly sweet gooey gob of sentimentality (with the occasionally bitterly cynical nugget thrown in) and, depending on your nature, would either sneer in derision or sit, sniffling great snorting snotty tears. Most Christmas movies, as you can tell from my analysis, suck.

There are gems of course – often bittersweet pieces about personal redemption that may or may not require angelic or ghostly intervention, but generally can be watched as a life lesson about family, community and the role of good people in making the world a better place. White Christmas, for example, is completely without any kind of mysticism but is thoroughly uplifting – and a lot of fun, too. Its central theme is loyalty, between friends but on a larger stage as well.

On a more serious note, there is “It’s a Wonderful Life,” the story of Harry Bailey and his struggle to support his family and make his community a better place. In this he faces the grasping banker, Potter, the very stereotype of the evil capitalist. One might think that Frank Capra, who directed it was some sort of socialist, but you would be wrong. Capra was a lifelong Republican who strongly opposed The New Deal and believed deeply in the American Dream. In fact, most of his movies were about how that dream had been suffocated by corrupt governments and evil rich people. As a conservative, Capra recognized that the American way of life depended on people being able to get ahead and that anything that prevented that – like excessive income inequality and monopoly capitalism – was a blight on the landscape. It’s a Wonderful Life is a paean to American capitalism – writ small – rather than a criticism of it.

A Christmas Carol – perhaps the most produced Christmas story ever with everything from serious renditions with Alistair Sims or Patrick Stewart to more frivolous examples like the Muppets or Scrooged with Bill Murray – is a slightly different kettle of fish. Dickens, while not much of a human being at a personal level, was a great reformer, viewing the excesses of the industrial revolution and the rising power of individual wealth as a danger not simply to society but to our humanity. He struggled in his writing and his personal campaigns to uncover the worst excesses of capitalism in early nineteenth century England. It is notable that Dickens relies on ghosts rather than angels to do his dirty work; he had a certain skepticism regarding the role of the Church – especially the high Anglican one – to actually make things better.

Rather, Scrooge is visited by three ghosts who are given the task of giving him three basic lessons, which can be simply stated as these:

• No man is an island – everyone owes their wellbeing to those who went before and those who helped them; before anything, we are part of a community.
• Hoarded money does no-one any good, not even the hoarder; we are all human and misery is ultimately shared, as is joy.
• Money will not buy you happiness or a way into heaven and, if you are foolish about it, will not even buy you comfort or pleasure.

So there you have it. Christmas in a nutshell, whether you are a conservative or a progressive. Community, sharing and a beautiful dream.

And that’s ten minutes.

Christmas Day

Well, here it is Christmas morning and I’m stuffed to the gills with licorice all-sorts, the crack cocaine of candy. The presents are open, the home made croissants are eaten, music is playing on the CD and Liz is poodling around in the kitchen planning something fabulous for lunch. You should all be so lucky (and I hope you are).

This will likely be the last 10 minutes of words I write so enjoy it.

Early April Fool’s Day joke — if I’m writing this on Christmas day , do you think I’ll let you off the hook for the rest of the year? Not a chance.

I’ve got plenty of things left to say and now that I have a handy portable notebook specifically dedicated to the project, there is no chance I’ll run out soon.

It looks to be a great rest of the day, what with brand new red socks to wear and an electronic wine thermometer to make sure my late vintage port is served at precisely the right number of degrees. Port and chocolate and nice non-wooly scarves to wear when I go out to my good friend Mike’s place for dinner.

And when I come home tomorrow I can settle in and read one of my six new books or maybe watch a Charlie Chaplin marathon while drinking coffee from one of several new mugs. Yes, the holidays don’t come better than that. Too bad the lottery tickets didn’t work out — but there is always next year to become a millionaire, right?

Does that about cover it? Not by half! There is a nice new set of sweat pants and jacket to lounge around in and bear bells (catering to my pathological fear of grizzly home invasions) nicely attached to a chocolate bear. And if I get tired of sweets, there are always some nice cheeses and smoked meats to eat. All my favorites — all at once.

So, what I’m trying to tell you is — thanks to everyone who shared my Christmas this year, giving gifts of time and attention and love and friendship. Thanks to all who came to our open house or sent us cards or well-wishes by e-mail or Facebook. Thanks to everyone who spared a kind thought for us — or even better for a friend or, best of all, a complete stranger.

Best wishes to you all. I hope your holiday brought you a measure of comfort and joy. Or at least — for those who are suffering — a moment of release and relief.

And that’s ten minutes.