Saturday, December 20, 2003

Bah, Humbug

Five days to Christmas and I have wrapped no presents and sent no cards.

There are no decorations clogging up our apartment. Outside, many of our neighbors have brought out the gaudy lights and blow-up plastic dolls. One such bedecked house I have nicknamed Santa's Old Time Las Vegas Whorehouse. It's a wall of multi-colored lighting and a clusterfuck of holiday figures on its tiny front lawn.

My lack of enthusiasm is partly laziness but mostly indifference to the materialism embedded in the festival.

It's hard to buy presents for me and Ann. We're both at a point in our lives when we have enough stuff. I just want to spend some time with friends and family cooking, eating and talking. Or I would like to just curl up on the couch with Ann and enjoy some of our many unread books and unseen films.

Plus I feel too much pressure at Christmas to enjoy it. There's the desperate ruckus at the stores to find presents that people would want. Then there's the pressure to smile when you open your present on the day and it's not what you really wanted.

So this year I've pretty much checked out of Christmas. I will enjoy spending time with Ann and her family at her mother's house in Hyannis. Together Ann and I will buy a few presents for each other at the stores and on-line. And, with luck, I'll read at least one book of fiction. That's how I prefer to be festive.

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