Xmas Time is Here

And so it has come to pass that yet another Holiday Season is upon us. Another year of Ebenezer/Ebenita, Tiny Tim, Charlie Brown, Wassaling, and the like. Kwanzaa, Christmas, Chanukah, and Winter Solstice are being celebrated; as are Playstations, things in small hinged boxes, and various distractions. So, the Garbage Pail Kids and I wanted to bring you our own thoughts for the Holiday Season. It's not that I'm not enthralled by the hustle and bustle, the Salvation Army bells, and the generally cheery dispositions knocking about in shopping bags. But as the great Negro philosopher The Notorious B.IG. once stated, "Damn, things done changed."

Happy Holidaze

by

drék davis

On this eve before the eve to end all, I remember Charlie Brown’s plea – “Can someone, please, tell me what Christmas is all about?” Of course, the ever-dutiful Linus broke down the knowledge for Señor Blockhead. In my post post-Thanksgiving haze, I wonder if we all don’t need A Clockwork Orange-type reeducating.

Forgive me while I beat a dead horse, but weren’t we supposed to collectively get a little deeper after that dark day in September? I mean, I’m just saying. Sure, I know that buying, giving, and receiving are part of the whole American ethos, but what about the logos? What about the reason? Even for some non-religious types, Christmas fosters a sense of appreciation and gratitude for life, friends, and family. Yet other’s still get caught up in bulking the gift-age underneath the perfect tree.

For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?

So, when the stuff becomes dust and the day becomes a chore, how do we salvage the magic of the season? Perhaps we begin by remembering the life – our life, and every other unique soul roaming this planet. Yeah, it’s a warm and fuzzy, touchy-feely approach; and anyone that knows me will confirm that that’s generally not how I get down, but it’s real. And I don’t mean real in the manufactured television sense of the word. I mean real, as in soul-stirring tangible. This brings me back to the bulking gift-age underneath the perfect tree. Sure, you can touch that hooziwhatzit, but does it touch you? Does it guide and pull you like the North Star, or is it only good for mild intoxication?

It is possible for a thing to mean something. There’s no doubting that. But consider the gift giver’s desire to please you. Isn’t that more important than what you’re presented with? This is not a test, so these questions don’t need to be answered right away. Besides you still have a day to figure it out. What is Christmas all about?