I can't explain it but the Macy's theory of inflated balloons to celebrate Christmas has made full penetration in the Florida Keys. I just don't see these crude balloons as an enhancement of the celebration or of the communities they litter. Call me a kill joy, but Cheyenne's puzzlement mirrors mine.
I don't like Christmas, the saccharine sentimentality doesn't work for me, the family connections less so as I grew up in a very unsentimental family and all the snow and Yule log stuff I am happy to forget about. I have a rather linear way of thinking so when I am presented with the birth of a savior mixed in with Good King Wenceslas and the Nordic holiday celebrating the solstice I ask myself what is this thing called Christ Mass really all about. The muddle deflates my understanding and thus my appreciation of the holiday, which is supposed to celebrate goodwill among men (and women most likely too, unspoken egalitarianism). The bit I like best is working Christmas Night as I get overtime and holiday pay and I earn brownie points among my more sentimental colleagues who want to be at home Michaelmas Night.
For Conchs who have never seen real snow I can understand the draw of cotton wool and foam spray to make up the shortcoming in their lives, but I've seen real snow and want none of it. And Good King Wenceslas should stay in Bohemia where he was invented! And for the rest of us how about we work for less social inequity and less reliance on feel-good charity? What would Jesus do faced with a world filled with super rich and abysmally poor? Would He feed the poor turkey a couple of days a year and call it good or would He do what he did, which is advocate the rich give up all their wealth as they will find it harder to enter the Kingdom of Heaven than the difficulty faced by a camel trying to thread the eye of a needle. See if you hear that sermon in church this or any other season. And then ask yourself why the preachers don't challenge their well heeled flocks. It's enough to turn a saint into a cynic on the Feast of Stephen, never mind a tired old skeptic like me.Now this is my kind of Christmas: