the year of the Grinch

It's December 12th, only 13 days left till Christmas and I'm not in the spirit of things just yet.

It's not for lack of trying. I have bought almost all the presents I'm giving, listened to Christmas carols on the radio, enjoyed the snow and even bought some new lights for the house. But I have no tree, have not hung the lights and the stocking that hangs outside my cube at work makes me want to gag each time I see it. As I pondered my lack of usual Christmas cheer and the cause, I realized that Christmas is no longer Christmas.

You see, there have been Christmas decorations up since before Halloween, Christmas music was playing before Thanksgiving. Stores are bickering over saying Merry Christmas or not and everyone wants me to buy more and more and more.

I think I'm sick of the whole thing.

Christmas is one of my favorite times of year. Not because I get a lot of cool stuff, but because I get to give. And I get to reflect on what has been given to me (and the entire world) in the disguise of a little tiny baby. The whole peace on earth, goodwill towards man resonates deeply with me. That's what I want, truly. More love, more compassion, more grace, and so on.

But what do I get? I get songs about snowmen and reindeer and greedy children who want stuff, about songs saying it's all about spending Christmas with that one hot guy you met last week. I get stores who have Christmas gifts out the wazoo but won't say Merry Christmas. I have neighbors who put up lights a week before Thanksgiving, totally skipping one of the best holiday's this nation has.

So far, I have no presents wrapped (bought, yes, wrapped, no), no tree to decorate, no stocking hung. The spirit of Christmas seems to be missing this year, as if it knew that our nation had deserted it and offered it up on the alter of commerce and profit. So it stayed away.

So, pardon me if I just can't get into the season. Pardon me for wanting something simpler, something truer, something full of joy and love. But don't pardon me for wanting to remember why I celebrate Christmas or for mourning the loss of the meaning of this time. You can call me a grinch if you you want, call me a scrooge, I can take it.