Sincerity

We were on one income, and our first was in a stroller, so regular trips to my wife’s favorite chocolatier were out of the question.  But Christmas was nigh, and our semiannual trek (right—Valentine’s Day too) was rich with the opulent decorations of a mall where the parking lot was replete with Jaguars.  The mall decorations were a visual delight for any Christmas-loving kid—or, in my case, kid at heart.

The chocolatier was in the middle of the mall, so we had to make our way through a high-end department store, the kind that still has white-coated makeup artists wandering about.  Maneuvering through the aisles, we came across a display designed to impede anyone’s progress, labelled with an understated, but still notable, sign:

“Stocking stuffers.  $25.”

I put a little extra speed on the stroller, and felt the need to offer clarification to our yet-speaking son.  “Honey, in our house, $25 is not a stocking stuffer. It’s a gift.”

Subsequent Christmases were wonderful affairs, but there were signs things were getting a little out of hand.  One local radio station developed an all-Christmas music format—that they started airing November 1.  Then there was a second.  A lawn service company sent a flyer offering to put up Christmas lights at a steep discount, as long as they could string them in October.  Halloween candy displays were downsized to make room for Christmas trees.

This year is no different.  It’s early November, and the dominant commercial on televised sporting events is a version of Carol of the Bells that features the name of a cell phone company. Historically, advent calendars are made of cardboard and have 24 windows, where the first window is opened December 1, offering a small morsel of chocolate.  Trader Joe has long offered Advent calendars with better- than average chocolate for as low as 99 cents.  The prominent Advent calendar ad on my social media page runs $149.99

But the real bubble burster comes from upscale department store Nordstrom—which was not the store with the $25 stocking stuffers.  Just a few years ago, Nordstrom proudly defended their long-standing policy of “celebrating one holiday at a time”, only decorating their stores for Christmas after Thanksgiving was over.  That appears to be over, as Nordstrom’s website contains a press release announcing the “unofficial” arrival of their holiday decorations.  Throw in the November 1 debut of Starbucks’ holiday cups (in the very un-Thanksgiving colors of red and green), and it’s clear Christmas is now a two-month event.

American Thanksgiving comes with a lot of baggage, so it’s easy to see why some companies steer clear of turkey day.  Still, I can’t help but think of the seven-year-olds who wake up Christmas morning to 20 gifts under the tree. Somewhere around gift 4, the joy becomes more of a wrapping-paper-ripping ritual, where the delight and the “thank yous” seem less sincere.

Gift-giving occasions are rare, and the love of children is big, regardless of their age.  There are also years when a hard-working family’s ship finally comes in, and that year’s Christmas is seen as a way to make up for past lean holidays.  Still, the meaning of the day—open to interpretation as it is—needs to be honored for what it is, as much of the meaning of any other day.  This thoughtful, brief (200 words) Christmas tale gives us all a chance to make sure our perspective is healthy, both for us and gift recipients—the perfect length to read as we drink our favorite beverage from a Starbucks’, um, cup.

November Bright

The sun seems early
Blaring through leaf-speckled frost-free branches
And its message is clear.
We rush outside
Breathe relative warm air
And walk
Run
Or rake our way
To a well-deserved glass of cider.  

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