I am *so* done with Christmas.
Oh, sorry – wrong pronoun. WE are so done with Christmas: you, me, everyone. That’s it; it’s over. How do I know? Here’s my go-to grocery store in Tempe AZ on Dec 30.
This display was relatively modest: Walmart had an aisle (or maybe two) of Valentine’s Day paraphernalia. Standing at one end, I peered cautiously into the modern analogue of a formal Victorian garden, an arch of hearts above me standing in for the wrought-iron trellis supporting trailing wisteria.
Epiphany is still seven days off, but we say pfft to Epiphany. As for the Jan 11 Feast of the Baptism of the Lord (which feast I’d never heard of before today, honestly, that whole liturgical calendar thing not being a big thing in the United Church in which I grew up, and like, is it always on Jan 11? Dunno.)? Well, we say pfft to that, too, although that seems a little more disrespectful somehow. But in any event we can’t be expected to sustain Christmastide for more than two weeks. No, we are done with Christmas. After all, that Valentine’s Day chocolate isn’t going to sell itself, you know. Pitter, patter, let’s get at ‘er.
If my assigned duties ever included policing retail/promotional start times for holidays, surely I would now be excused from the Christmas portion of these duties. In fact, though, no one ever did ask me to take on any portion of this task and it’s just as well: It’s as futile as it is thankless. But that lack of formal responsibility doesn’t mean that I don’t notice the infractions, especially the ridiculous ones. And going all-in on Valentine’s Day before we have even begun to celebrate New Year’s Eve is ridiculous.
Our culture was once a dinner of appropriately sized portions, each beautifully plated with ample white space. Now we’ve doubled or tripled the portions and then smeared them all together. We’ve gone from a multi-course meal with time to anticipate, delight in, and think back on each offering, to plates piled high with a hopelessly muddled hash with no discernible beginnings or endings.
And the thing that’s really awful about this trend? It’s as unnecessary as it is obnoxious. Because chocolate really does sell itself.
“Our culture was once a dinner of appropriately sized portions, each beautifully plated with ample white space. Now we’ve doubled or tripled the portions and then smeared them all together. We’ve gone from a multi-course meal with time to anticipate, delight in, and think back on each offering, to plates piled high with a hopelessly muddled hash with no discernible beginnings or endings.”
I have no idea how you come up (out?) with these analogies but you are so descriptive in the imagery as you hit the nail on the head.
PS: Welcome to back Tempe – enjoy!
Jim R – Many thanks. And yes, it’s good to be back. 🙂
Excellent transition from micro to macro. I remember when a seaside full of people didn’t look like a convention of Overeaters. Those 1970s folks in bathing suits now look anorexic. The animated movie Wall-E got it dead right with all those bloated folks in lazy-boy chairs moving on tracks. Of course, this is now considered fat-shaming but I stand by my opinions. I will not be shushed at my age. And, just so people know, it is as hard for skinny people to gain weight as fat people to lose it.
As for these force-fed religious “observances”, I remember what my ex-husband said about Easter, “Does it fall on a Sunday this year?”
Barbara – Thank you – and I know what you mean about the “old” photos, which are merely from my early twenties. As a society we’ve definitely gotten fatter. As for your ex-husband, he could have been Jewish! We never know when the holidays are without looking them up. It’s something to do with a 17-year cycle to sync the lunar calendar with the Gregorian one. Some festivals can start on any day of the week. I’m still trying to get it straight, but I may settle for just looking it up each time.
Easter always falls on a Sunday!! that’s the joke. 😀
Yeah. He’s like the opposite of a retired military guy I once knew who asked me in early Feb one year when Valentine’s Day was. I thought he meant what day of the week. Nope, he didn’t know the date.
Well said. Except, we do have Christmastide not for weeks but for months. Problem is, the retail preparations for Christmas start in September. Yeccch!
There is a chinook on here – I may take down my Christmas lights today. Weather plays an inordinate role in my external decorations.
Judith – Hahaha. Yes, we do indeed “do” Christmas for months, looked at that way. Yecch indeed.
In response to Barbara’s ex-husband, I once turned a worship Committee meeting into hysterical laughter by asking, “What day does Ash Wednesday fall on this year?”
Jim T – Were you making a joke, asking for the date (as opposed to day of the week), or uttering one of those phrases that make sense until you hear them aloud?