Seasonal Terrors and Giftwrapped Fears
By Mr.e
Only x number of days until the next three-ring circus rolls across your doorstep.
It’s bound to set your otherwise tranquil home environment on its ear for
a while.
It’s coming. That holiday. And so are the dread and fear and all the other
uneasy feelings that have accumulated in the sack of horrific Christmas memories;
until now safely stuffed up the chimney.
I’m talking about getting together with family. Fun thought that one, eh?
Before committing any words to paper, I scrolled available memory, reviewed
seasonal movies and other holiday histories and discovered a disturbing trend
towards dysfunction. Seems every movie depicting seasonal family reunions around
the turkey or tree inevitably culminates in appalling rows that fragment the
assembled troops.
Christmas is a tough act to choreograph at the best of times, laboring as most
are, under the restrictive notions that every last family member must be present
and that it’s not Christmas unless all are there. End result: Either the
absence is lamented ad nausea or the presence barely tolerated.
It is little wonder a large number of us go into a state of depression, shock
or begin to wriggle about like reluctant worms on the hook. No wonder the ‘good
will toward men’ sentiment is spouted annually and often.
I don’t know about you, but personal experiences could be cobbled into
some sort of movie, at least for TV. Ok, so we’ve never thrown food about
or had to call the cops, but I wonder what beasts lurk below the thin ice we’re
all skating around on.
I guess that the bottom line is that certain obligations slam into your schedule
like snowballs thrown by the neighborhood punk. Unavoidable? Maybe. Fun? Depends
on what you call fun.
This Christmas thing has never really been one of my favorite holidays for all
of the weird memories I’m schlepping along from years gone by. Whatever
objections and protestations I voice during this season, I am resolved to insure
that my kids don’t start collecting the same weirdness.