This I Believe

cynthia - anchorage, Alaska
Entered on December 28, 2007
Age Group: 50 - 65

I am never quite certain who the original MORON was who decided that the

holiday season is jolly. That has lately not been my experience. Even if one harkens

back to the First Christmas, the scenario was far from jolly : a virginal young woman gets

the crap scared out of her by a towering blond angel who tells her she will be knocked up by God,

her boyfriend will have to put up with being the cuckold, she’ll give birth to the Holy Savior, grow incredibly (as in normally) attached to Him, then live to see Him tortured and summarily

executed after He is besmirched by legions of His peers. She then must live with the

moniker “The Blessed Ever-Virgin Mary” for the rest of her grieving, chaste days, and don’t tell me that Joseph didn’t have a problem with any of this, because I just cannot buy it.

Fast forward to modern times, and we witness situations that create and/or prolong

horrible, vicious, rancorous, spiteful, and wicked family feuds where everyone’s nose is

bent out of shape over the perceived slights of who spends the holidays with whom and who

spends more on whose presents, even though nobody likes any of the presents they receive anyway.The alcoholics in the family get drunk and verbally abusive or worse; the psychotics in the

family forget to take their meds and become paranoid, which they probably would have

done with or without Respiradol, and then take it as a personal insult that the stuffing is too dry, too moist, or doesn’t (or worse, DOES, resemble Mommy’s.)

As if all these lovely factors were not hideous enough, one week later, it is the beginning of

a New Year. People feel compelled to go to parties at which they drink far too much,

pretend to find ecstatic joy in the coming of a new and probably even worse year, and leave the party inebriated, thus getting into head-on collisions that result in them being maimed, paralyzed, or dead. If they are lucky enough to survive all that, they wake up on January 1st with a hangover the size of Kansas, deliriously make a plethora of ridiculous resolutions which they’ve not

a snowball’s chance in Hell of achieving, and then watch endlessly muy macho football

games in which some promising young player ends up with a cervical fracture that necessitates a tracheotomy, followed by a respirator, allegations of steroid-abuse, and a heartrending pulling of the plug. Jolly ? I don’t think so. Happy New Year.

Although I was raised by a Christmas-loving mother who made the

holiday season one that is filled with tender memories of presents and

giving that color my adult days and make me ashamed sometimes of

my adult perceptions, the following is the result of looking around without

the rose-colored glasses and of listening to people whose opinions I respect.

Is Christmas for kids? In my case, I would have to say yes.

Jolly? I Don’t Think So

I am never quite certain who the original MORON was who decided that the

holiday season is jolly. That has rarely been my experience. Even if one harkens

back to the First Christmas, the scenario was far from jolly : a virginal young woman gets

the crap scared out of her by a towering blond angel who tells her she will be knocked up by God,

her boyfriend will have to put up with being the cuckhold, she’ll give birth to the Holy Savior, grow incredibly (as in normally) attached to Him, then live to see Him tortured and summarily

executed after He is besmirched by legions of His peers. She then must live with the

moniker “The Blessed Ever-Virgin Mary” for the rest of her mournful days, and don’t tell

me that Joseph didn’t have a problem with any of this, because I just cannot buy it.

Fast forward to modern times, and we witness situations that create and/or prolong

horrible, vicious, rancorous, spiteful, and wicked family feuds where everyone’s nose is

bent out of shape over the perceived slights of who spends the holidays with whom and who

spends more on whose presents, even though nobody likes any of the presents they receive anyway.The alcoholics in the family get drunk and verbally abusive or worse; the psychotics in the

family forget to take their meds and become paranoid, which they probably would have

done with or without Respiradol, and then take it as a personal insult that the stuffing is too dry,

too moist, or doesn’t (or worse, DOES, resemble Mommy’s.)

As if all these lovely factors were not hideous enough, one week later, it is the beginning of

a New Year. People feel compelled to got to parties at which they drink far too much,

pretend to find ecstatic joy in the coming of a new and probably even worse year, and leave the

party inebriated, thus getting into head-on collisions that result in them being maimed, paralyzed,

or dead. If they are lucky enough to survive all that, they wake up on January !st with a hangover

the size of Kansas, deliriously make a plethora of ridiculous resolutions which they’ve not

a snowball’s chance in Hell of achieving, and then watch endlessly muy macho football

games in which some promising young player ends up with a cervical fracture that necessitates

a tracheotomy, followed by a respirator, allegations of steroid-abuse, and a heartrending

pulling of the plug. Jolly ? I don’t think so. Happy New Year.

Jolly? I Don’t Think So

I am never quite certain who the original MORON was who decided that the

holiday season is jolly. That has rarely been my experience. Even if one harkens

back to the First Christmas, the scenario was far from jolly : a virginal young woman gets

the crap scared out of her by a towering blond angel who tells her she will be knocked up by God,

her boyfriend will have to put up with being the cuckhold, she’ll give birth to the Holy Savior, grow incredibly (as in normally) attached to Him, then live to see Him tortured and summarily

executed after He is besmirched by legions of His peers. She then must live with the

moniker “The Blessed Ever-Virgin Mary” for the rest of her mournful days, and don’t tell

me that Joseph didn’t have a problem with any of this, because I just cannot buy it.

Fast forward to modern times, and we witness situations that create and/or prolong

horrible, vicious, rancorous, spiteful, and wicked family feuds where everyone’s nose is

bent out of shape over the perceived slights of who spends the holidays with whom and who

spends more on whose presents, even though nobody likes any of the presents they receive anyway.The alcoholics in the family get drunk and verbally abusive or worse; the psychotics in the

family forget to take their meds and become paranoid, which they probably would have

done with or without Respiradol, and then take it as a personal insult that the stuffing is too dry,

too moist, or doesn’t (or worse, DOES, resemble Mommy’s.)

As if all these lovely factors were not hideous enough, one week later, it is the beginning of

a New Year. People feel compelled to got to parties at which they drink far too much,

pretend to find ecstatic joy in the coming of a new and probably even worse year, and leave the

party inebriated, thus getting into head-on collisions that result in them being maimed, paralyzed,

or dead. If they are lucky enough to survive all that, they wake up on January !st with a hangover

the size of Kansas, deliriously make a plethora of ridiculous resolutions which they’ve not

a snowball’s chance in Hell of achieving, and then watch endlessly muy macho football

games in which some promising young player ends up with a cervical fracture that necessitates

a tracheotomy, followed by a respirator, allegations of steroid-abuse, and a heartrending

pulling of the plug. Jolly ? I don’t think so. Happy New Year.