Sunday, December 20, 2009

Christmas is on the horizon. Woo freakin Hoo. I'm not in the Crimmis spirit this year. Last year I was channeling Martha Stewart as I baked countless cookies and prepared for the annual cinnamon- roll -Christmas -morning. I was super excited about Santa coming for the nieces and nephews.... this year, my biggest excitement is waiting for Dog the Bounty Hunter to locate Santa. This is generally the point where people reach for a hand gun and take themselves out before life gets any shittier.

...but life isn't shitty... not in the least... it just bothers me that I don't feel like anyone has shoved some mistletoe up my ass this year. Where is the crimmis spirit?

I remember being a kid. The excitement for Santa was unbelievable. The meteorologist in the gray suit and Christmas tie would show us Santa on the radar because not only can the meteorologist predict a thunderstorm, he can predict Santa's flight plan. I can remember my brother waking me up while it was still dark outside and racing into the living room to see what Santa left us. I remember the year I finally knew for sure (all lingering hope abolished) that Santa was a crock.... it left a certain sense of sadness that children can only experience when they realize that there is no magic in the world. It's a sadness that you carry with you for the rest of your life.

On my commute to work, I think about all sorts of random things. Lately, I have been thinking about Christmas past in a way that even Marley could be proud of. I wonder about the world often and most recently, I wonder what the world would be like if yes, Virginia, there really is a Santa Claus.... I wonder how many of us would really try to be good and how many of us would tell Santa to go fuck himself and go to Radio Shack and buy presents for ourselves.

Parents would face a particular dilemma. What if your kid was a real asshole, but you loved him anyway? Would you buy gifts and slip them under the tree and pretend they were from Santa to keep the magic alive? Would that put the parents on the naughty list? Would Santa be on TMZ after being stalked and harrassed by the paparazzi? Would an elf end up on 60 minutes admitting to years of sexual abuse from Father Christmas? Would Mrs. Claus put dents in the sleigh with a golf club after accusations of Santa's infidelities surfaced? Would she end up on Oprah talking about how all the spark left the marriage when he spent a questionable amount of hours with the reindeer? Would Santa end up as a spokesman for the American Diabetic Association, requesting sugar free cookies this year?

The possibilities are endless. I realize how Santa, even if he were real, could never exist in our present society.... that being said....

I can't remember a better time of life. The years spent believing in Santa are really magical and something I look back on with absolute joy. I remember getting my play kitchen one year and a play grocery store that was probably 100 percent cardboard but it was still awesome.

This train of thought made me think about religion. I don't know if there is a God. I have great faith that there is. I hope that there is. I like the idea of having something/someone to believe in.... So, I guess I would rather have faith in something that may not exist than to know for certain it's a hoax. Sometimes the joy is not in the truth, but in the belief.

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