'Tis the Season

As I sit down to write this morning, realizing that there are just a mere 45 days, 16 hours and 21 minutes left (yes, Virginia, there is a website dedicated to this important information) til the jolly one arrives bearing gifts, I seem to not be able to motivate myself much past breakfast.  I feel a jolt of “old and jadedness” falling upon me and fear I may not have much fight left.

Coming from someone who thought marrying Santa Clause would be pretty cool because I would get presents everyday, I was still taken aback by seeing Christmas decorations in July.  After the persuasive influences I encountered in August when I noticed the festive adornments placed for retail exploitation next to the swimsuits, I felt strong and fought my impulses.  I went hot and cold and couldn’t decide between a summer clearance sale or the sparkly seasonal paraphernalia that I already have too much of and too little space to store it.  I know I could and should be in the spirit but I am resisting and trying to hold out for a couple more weeks.

There must be a November 1 deadline for retailers because it was well before Halloween when the influx of the desired “gotta-haves”, “can’t live with-outs”, the baubles and the sure to please items were pulled out and the race for the sales of potential presents for your loved ones was on.  I suppose some people need this boost to get into the spirit.  But frankly, in our society of instant gratification and the ability we have to buy what we want anytime of the year really takes the edge off of something we have to postpone to receive.

Long ago, when I was a kid, we did have to wait for the designated day to get the goods.  There was extraordinary anticipation and excitement that built and exploded when you opened a present you never thought in a million zillion years your parents would get you.  I miss that feeling.

Is it me or are they rushing the holiday season just a tad more than they did last year, and the years before that?  What happened to Thanksgiving?  Turkeys may not be the most handsome of birds, but we should give due respect to them – they could have been our country’s national emblem (move over Mr. Bald Eagle)… oh, and lest we forget the true meaning (can’t forget that… I say sarcastically, because we always seem to) and tradition behind the celebration.

My advice to the ones already out of the gate with your cash and credit cards… pace yourself, if you don’t, by the time December 25 gets here you will be so over the holidays.  Tis’ the season for overindulgence but don’t burn out too soon.  Try to remember, recreate and pass on the exhilaration and eagerness of not knowing what is wrapped so brilliantly and waiting, waiting, waiting to be the first gift opened.

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life.  Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-