Deck the Halls with Hunks of Holly 


Surviving the season to be jolly—how I maintain my sanity amidst the vanity and inanity of pop-culture-christmas-think. 

I actually memorized the lyrics to the Tom Lehrer satire, A Christmas Carol when I was a young man. It starts this way:

Christmas time is here, by golly,
Disapproval would be folly,
Deck the halls with hunks of holly,
Fill the cup and don't say "when."
Kill the turkeys, ducks and chickens,
Mix the punch, drag out the Dickens,
Even though the prospect sickens,
Brother, here we go again.

Lehrer goes on in his own unique way to satirize many of the things that make the month of December so rotten. The average soul is forced into a nicey-nice posture that is a strain for most and truly hypocritical for quite a few. We spend billions of dollars on gifts just this side of meaningless, while the rest of the world goes hungry. The newspapers, TV, the internet put a relentless commercial twist on everything spiritual. Even Santa is a big bag of wind, and his reindeers, well, watch out . . .

Of course, there are those who "just love Christmas" and don't know what all the fuss is about. There are those who start shopping the day after Thanksgiving and don't stop until the bank account is well overdrawn.

We Episcopalians get a little help in resisting the tidal wave of toys, lights, cookies and carols, just because our liturgy is seasonal, and this is the season of Advent. We quietly anticipate the prophesied birth of Christ, and are sober and penitent in light of this monumental event. Our candles are mostly blue and pink, rather than green and red.

It does say something about Santa Claus in the Bible, doesn't it?

One of my personal ordeals (but sometimes not) of the season is how to deal with the mountains of Christmas cards and fantasized gift-giving obligations.

Let's face it, folks, Hercules could stumble under this weight. I've been through all the options on card sending. Don't send any. Just send to my BEST friends. Send unto others as they have sent unto you. Just print out the address book on labels and send cheap cards to everyone you vaguely know. Send EXPENSIVE cards to everyone you know. Send cards but no Christmas letter. Send a Christmas letter but no cards. Send BOTH an Christmas letter AND a card. (But Hanukkah cards to your Jewish friends, and Peace cards to your atheist and Unitarian friends. And Expect a Miracle cards to your New Age Friends. Hand-write a little note and (Oh, God, I am tired just writing this paragraph.)

So what I have been doing is writing a Christmas letter and putting it online. That has its drawbacks, but I am dealing with them. What I really like is that I can go back any time of year and read my Christmas letters for the last 35 years—well, I only read them ALL on Sunday.

And gifts?! Things are only worse here. For starters, my extended family has never figured out how to have a Christmas rotation scheme, so we all guilt our way through the season. Actually, I have taken to giving gifts to my relatives only when they seem really appropriate, weddings, deaths, when people actually need something. I've been more and more giving to charities in someone's name when I care about them, and hoping they will do the same for me. I've been buying MYSELF a gift or two. Heh, heh, I bought Sims 2 the other day. Now if I can only afford the pet module, too!

But, I have discovered an even more peaceable approach to holiday horror in the last three years (since I have been retired). The day after Thanksgiving, when everyone else is out shopping for bargains, I dig out my counted cross-stitch project that I have been working on since 2003. I bought it on eBay for $44, that's including the thread. I sit in my easy recliner an hour or two most days and do my counted cross-stitch. It is taking a LONG time. What you see is three months work, one month for each year—three months of one or two hours a day.

But it isn't just the fact that all this squinting and focusing on tiny thread through needle eye takes away my guilt. It's the subject matter, too. This is a 19th Century Christmas scene. A kid was lucky to have one or two good friends. People made gifts out of cloth and ornaments out of popcorn. They liked the cold and didn't try to get away from it. Yeah, life really was simpler and slower. I know I can't go back there, don't even want to. But REMEMBERING how it was, it really helps.

I figure it will take me about three more Advents to get this finished and under my tree. With any luck, I'll be 71, just dipping into my IRA. If I make it that far, I've got another pattern waiting in the wings. It's a wonderful counted cross-stitch of the 12 days of Christmas. Just a pattern, not even any thread. Gosh, I just can't wait! 

Posted: Thu - December 21, 2006 at 09:07 PM          

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