I’m a happy person. People who really know me will agree with that. I rarely take things seriously, and I crack jokes constantly. Not necessarily good jokes, mind you, but jokes nonetheless. I like to follow Ferris Bueller’s (sp?) advice; “Don’t take life too seriously. You’ll never get out alive.”
So it comes as a shock to people that I’m not a big holiday guy. Don’t get me wrong, I like giving presents and stuff, but I’ve never really been into the whole hoopla about decorating and singing and eating mass amounts of food. I don’t understand those people who wake up on the day after thanksgiving and wait outside some walmart in 40 degree weather just to get the mittens that they saw were $5 marked down from $5.99. They say it’s “tradition” or something. I call B.S.
Then you’ve got the families that deck their houses with so many lights that the whole neighborhood is embarassed. Having some christmas lights is one thing; having your house become an amusement park for the 40 or so days between thanksgiving and christmas is just ridiculous. Ask the electric company- they’ll agree.
The holidays aren’t even really holiday-ish when you live in Southern California. Today was the coldest day I remember in a long time. It was in the mid to upper 60s. I remember one christmas where I wore shorts all day and had to stay inside in the air conditioning. “I’m dreaming of a white christmas.” Ha. I’m dreaming of my wife coming home with some friends and saying “So Ryan… you wanna try something new?” Both have the same chance of coming true.
The holiday station became the background music for us at work. I suppose it’s supposed to put us in “the holiday spirit” or something. Don’t get me wrong- I’m not a traditional “scrooge” by any sense. First off, I’m not old and bitter. Second, I like Tiny Tim. Not in that way… like in an I-don’t-hate-you way. I guess I just don’t like being forced to be happy. It all seems so fake to me.
Then there’s the food. People always talk about putting on their “holiday weight” or the “extra padding” from christmas dinner. It’s your own fault. How about you stop eating when you’re full? What are you trying to prove- than you CAN eat 3 helpings of yams without bursting? Who the hell likes yams anyway? Not me. I remember the days when Sally Struthers was always on television talking about the starving people in Africa. What- did they all get fed or something? These seemingly socially-aware people who really feel for the suffering of the people in the world can stuff themselves silly whilst the starving people in Africa die of starvation? Don’t the starving people in Africa deserve a chance to eat some of those yams? I guess I can’t talk, though. I’ve never given a dime to Sally. But, for the record, I also don’t give a crap about the rest of the world, and I’m not socially-aware. I don’t even know where Africa is. Somewhere near Arizona, right? The closest I ever got to helping someone in need was not picking up the remains of my half-eaten hamburger one day when I saw a homeless man who was surely going to pick it up after I left. I hope he picked it up. Otherwise there goes my ONE story about being altruistic.