"Mister, can I buy these shoes/ For my mama, please?..."
And so begins the chorus to one of the most morbid, twisted, annoying, and plain wrong-minded modern-day Christmas carols ever. It's this tune called "The Christmas Song," (no, not the Mel Torme one) and it's been around for quite a few years now. It's still one of my most hated Christmas carols, because it glamorizes everything that's wrong with Christmas.
If you're one of the fortunate who haven't heard this song, let me give you the gist of it. There's this kid, see, and he's poor (or something like that). He's in this department store and he wants to buy a specific pair of shoes for his mother. Two catches: the first is that he quite obviously doesn't have the money for it; the second is that his mother is dying, and he wants them for a Christmas present to give to her.
As I say, it's morbid, twisted, and wrong-minded. Why do I say all this, you ask? Simple. It's wrong-minded because the kid is buying his dying mother a pair of shoes. God knows that if she's dying all she'd want is a hug from the kid and an "I love you." But, no, the hack of a songwriter has some kid begging the salesman, please, if he could buy these shoes for his dying mother. In a day and age where we've been saying that it's not the gift but the thought that counts, here's a song touting that it's the gift that's important, and it's in the Christmas spirit to let the kid buy the shoes so he can, supposedly, make his mother "happy."
Can we say "bullshit" boys and girls? We can? Good, because that's what this is. That's what's wrong with Christmas.
You're not following me, are you? Well, try this rationalization on for size, then. Christmas is not a time for giving gifts and receiving them (though, even I'll admit, it's nice to get presents; and when you give someone that one present that you know they've been wanting and their face just lights up, well, there's little in the world that can make up the satisfaction that that gives you), but rather a time for kindness. Yes, that's right. You heard me. Me, a cynical little shit at the best of times has just said that Christmas is a time for kindness. That's what we should be giving eachother, is kindness and understanding. Then again, my brain asks me why we need an excuse to treat eachother with goodwill? We don't! And yet we use Christmas as just that: an excuse to treat people well.
And then there's the "true meaning of Christmas." Well, y'wanna know what it is? Really, honestly, and truly? It's the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who would eventually die to bring us all Salvation. That is the true meaning of Christmas. That is why we have it. Not to exchange presents, but to celebrate the birth of the Saviour.
Now, I'm not a religious man. Far from it. I'm quite unreligious, but there's a certain sanctity about this holiday (a word which is derived from "holy" and "day") that we tend to forget in the commercialized hubbub that surrounds it. We're kind to others during this season because of the fact that something grand happened at this time approximately 2000 years ago.
(this all depends on your religion; I'm obviously speaking from a Roman Catholic point of view)
You're probably hoping that I'll get to the point soon, so I will. My point is that Christmas has been commercialzed and bastardized by today's society. It's now a stressful mad rush to decorate the house and buy all your gifts in time when it really should be nothing more than a nice gathering with family and friends, each sharing in everyone's company. Nothing extravagant. I don't expect Christmas lights, or a Christmas tree (traditions that I don't even know the origins of). Just time with family and friends. That's it. Sure, yeah, presents are nice and all, but Christmas isn't about presents. It's not even about the birth of Christ anymore (sadly enough, I must say). It's about loving others.
Well, it should be. Right now it's about spending as much money as you possibly can at those "Temples of Affluence" (as a friend of mine likes to call them) we know as "Malls". It's about trying to find that "perfect gift" and spending oodles upon oodles of cash on it.
Ah, the joys of Commercialism, eh?
Oh yeah, and I ever hear that fuckin' carol "The Little Drummer Boy" one more bloody time, I swear to God, I'm going to shove those drumsticks someplace mighty uncomfortable.
"Pa-rum-pa-pum-pum" my ass.