Christmas, the most wonderful time of year. I know it’s not specifically Christmas. Chanukah is also part of the most wonderful time of year. I don’t consider Chanukah very wonderful though. It’s a celebration of not running out of oil for 8 days. My car can only last about 5 before I have to fill up my tank. If my car got better gas mileage than maybe I would understand Chanukah a little bit more. And why am I spelling it Chanukah? I’m used to Hanukkah. I don’t get it. Why two spellings? I’m sure it has something to do with translations, but why not make up your mind? Oye Vey! I hate indecisiveness.
This is the first holiday season that I’m feeling terrible about it. I never used to get those jokes about Christmas Suicides. I always thought it was funny because who would ever kill themselves on Christmas? It’s such a happy day. You get presents and time with your family. The older I get, the lonelier I get. The lonelier I get, the less people I have in my life. The less people I have in my life, the angrier I become. Skip forward a few more cause and effects and we got to the point of feeling the holiday blues. I totally get this now. Most holidays I feel pretty bummed out myself. They’re not the same as they used to be when I was younger. Now they feel forced. Almost as if the family is trying to recapture the wonderful moments of ignorance we had when there were children involved. It’s killing me inside to continue to pretend that I believe in Santa. But I’m doing it for the family. I want to keep this magic going. The second I admit I know the truth they’ll make me bathe myself. I have short arms. There’s no way I can cover every inch of my body with these things.
(Sometimes I forget I have arms, they’re so short. I really should just have hands that shoot out of my shoulders like this guy)
It’s not necessarily the holidays in general that I think bum people out. December is pretty gloomy itself. It’s dark by 4:30 and starts to become cold. This would make anyone with a heart depressed. Being alone on the holidays is something that I know I will have to endure at some point in my life. It’s slightly scary but I know that I’m not alone in that. At some point we all have to spend the important holidays alone. Unless you’re a Siamese twin. I’ll bet that a Siamese twin never reads this. When I say Siamese twin, I also mean that both their legs have to hit the ground. I don’t count the ones with someone attached to their forehead as Siamese twins. As Doug Stanhope said, they’re people with midgets attached to them. I’m sure you know the TLC whore I’m talking about. You’re probably more confused as to what a TLC whore is. It’s someone who is on the channel TLC way too much. Usually they’re freaks.
My holiday woes are simple. I have to be in too many places at one time. Don’t tell me to go out and rent “Four Christmases” so I can have something to relate to. Reese Witherspoon hasn’t been cute in years and Vince Vaughn hasn’t been funny in centuries.
(“Vince Vaughn, very funny.” – Caveman, 10,001 B.C.)
There isn’t an extensive travel list that I have to go through. It’s just that I have to travel at all that bothers me. Christmases past I wouldn’t have to go anywhere. I liked those years. I would go into the front yard and play catch with my dad with my new football. Or if I didn’t get a football we’d play catch with one of my sister’s gifts. This year I’ll be at every corner of New Jersey over the weekend. I’ll be traveling 500 miles total in 3 days. I know, I thought New Jersey was pretty small too. I could probably get to the Carolinas for that mileage. I don’t know what I’d do there. Visit Raleigh? Get away with a hate crime?
The more I think about it there are Christmas images that beg us to all kill ourselves. Wreathes look like green nooses. Angels are everywhere and that’s what we turn into when we die. Look how cute most of those angels are! I want to be one of them. Then there’s that whole random Jesus aspect thrown into Christmas. I don’t get it either. Jesus is such a deathly image. He’s always on a cross looking like he’s in agony. We used to have one of those hanging above our house phone in my childhood home. Then we found out that we were the only family in the world that still used a landline so we threw it in the garbage disposal. I’m kidding. It was the trash. No way in hell would we have a landline but be able to afford a garbage disposal.
I’ve never known anyone to kill themselves around Christmas. Most suicides I know of happen around Thanksgiving. I never got that. That’s like killing yourself on a Monday. There’s still time. There’s still hope. Tuesday and Wednesday are the perfect days to kill yourself. All hope of having a good week might be gone and you’re too far away from a fresh start. If I ever killed myself it would be on a Tuesday at midnight. That’s called suicidal compromise. I would not do it around Thanksgiving either. Thanksgiving makes me hopeful of having a good Christmas. I already know this year will be pretty lame (how can it not be lousy with that attitude?) but that’s okay. Whether or not my Christmas is good or if I go into it with a negative attitude, it’ll happen. All over the world children will be eager and wake up early. I’ll probably rise around 10 in the morning and won’t talk to anyone until noon. Maybe a neighbor. And what would I even say to them? “Merry Christmas I don’t know you.” That’s exactly what I will say. Christmas has no boundaries when it comes to wishing someone to have a merry one. You don’t have to know a person to wish them luck. Maybe that’s what it’s all about. Connecting with others. Making someone feel special. Smiling for no reason other than the fact that you have something in this world.
I wrote this hoping to complain about how much I am not excited about Christmas this year. Instead I found its true meaning. Not worrying about how it will turn out. It’s still Christmas whether it’s a good day or not. That’s all that’s important. That it happens. Good, bad, or neutral. Christmas is coming. Don’t kill yourself until after it sucks.
(I’ll need a lot of acid if I want my Christmas to look a thing like this. Although Bunsen does remind me of my Grandma)
“Merry Christmas to all and to all a good fight!” – What Michael Buffer should say if there’s ever a big Christmas boxing match