“The Fine Print”, by Michael Schrader
TREATISE ON A HOLIDAY
(Written 24 December 1997. Published in the Neighborhood Journal. Posted 22 June 2009.)
I've decided that even columnists need a holiday every once
in a while. That time has come for this
columnist.
Heck, after all, it IS the holiday season. How do I know this? Well, just watch the television, listen to
the radio, or read the newspaper. They
all say that it is the holiday, so it is.
No argument.
Of course, my idea of a holiday is a relaxing time spent
someplace warm, with cool iced teas in my hand and my bare toesies
playing in the sand while the sea laps at my feet. Shivering in the cold does not really fit in
with my image of a holiday. But, I must
be wrong; cold and snow must be a holiday, because the advertisers have told me
so.
I've always imagined a holiday to be relaxing and
stress-free. No worries, no
aggravations. I'm wrong again. You see, a holiday, according to our friends
on Madison Avenue, is supposed to be about herding ourselves into enclosed
spaces like cattle being squeezed into the cattle car on the way to
slaughter. The only difference between
us and the cows is that the cows do not choose to subjugate themselves to this
kind of treatment. Then, after we have sardined ourselves into the enclosed spaces (a.k.a. malls),
We spend whatever money that we should be spending on non-essential items like
food and shelter (as told to us by the advertising execs) for more essential
items such as trinkets, toys, and cheap jewelry and perfume for people that,
364 days of the year, we really couldn't give a fig (or any other fruit, for
that matter) about.
However, if we were to really do something nice for
somebody, and give them something they really want, like love, respect, or
companionship, that is not an acceptable gift to give, as is has no material
value, no dollar value, it is absolutely worthless. It doesn't matter that an act of true
kindness and generosity is probably worth more to a person than all of the
trinkets, all of the chocolates, and all of the smelly perfumes in the world;
Madison Avenue has decreed, and society has concurred, that this is not
acceptable.
No, the season is not about giving and sharing at all, no
sir. It is about waiting in lines for
hours on end. It's about pumping noxious
fumes into the air as a result of the endless traffic congestion fueled by the
guilt hoisted upon us by marketing executives.
It is about being shown rude hand gestures by seemingly innocent senior
citizens for taking the last available parking space in the sea of asphalt at
the local "Cookie Cutter Chain Mart."
It is about watching people altercate about toys that they really could
not care about 364 days of the year, and that their children will probably play
with for a month, tops, before losing interest or the toy itself.
Hmmm... According to
Madison Avenue, I'm wrong. I do not know
what a holiday is supposed to be like.
Oh well, so I'm wrong---I'd still rather have
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