The Evolution Of The Family Christmas Tree

Every year my Aunt Kim has a beautiful fresh-cut Christmas tree. Without fail, her tree always looks like something straight out of a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. She comes up with a different theme and a color scheme. Everything coordinates; the lights (usually in elegant white), the ornaments, the tree topper. The ornaments are all perfectly distributed and evenly spaced. It's classy and chic. Perfectly planned. Perfectly executed. A thing of beauty.

I've always wanted a tree like Aunt Kim's.

When I was young and newly engaged and imagining what my home and family life would look like, I thought to myself, "I'm going to have an elegant tree like that." I could picture peaceful Christmas Eves around our beautiful themed Christmas tree sipping hot cocoa, everyone in matching pajamas. It would be picture perfect.

I've never had a tree like Aunt Kim's.

The first years of married life, the ones before kids came along, we were just poor struggling college students. We couldn't afford a tree. Besides home still seemed like somewhere other than our tiny apartment. We visited parents for Christmas and appreciated the fact that we didn't have to pay for the electricity to run Christmas lights.

Our very first Christmas tree made it's way into our house for our son's first Christmas. He was only ten months old and I was a freakishly cautious new mother. That first tree was a sad little artificial table topper (I wouldn't hazard my precious son eating pine needles), kept well out of reach of tiny groping hands. It was barely two feet tall and was decorated with non-toxic wooden ornaments... just in case.

A few years later, we graduated to a real tree, eight feet tall. The ornaments were mostly non-breakable plastic and wood, positioned on the highest branches well out of the reach of toddler hands. After that tree was knocked over THREE different times by the toddler onto his baby sister, I started to suspect he was actively engaged in a black ops mission to take out the baby (especially the third time the tree mysteriously made it's way across the living room to land on his sister who should have been well out of the way), That year the tree was tied to the wall with 550 paracord (not particularly fashionable) for everyone's safety. By Christmas Eve most of the branches were broken, hanging at odd and unnatural angles and the ornaments were mostly broken or missing. (Toddlers love to play catch with Christmas ornaments.) Plus there was no peacefully sipped hot chocolate. We all collapsed fully clothed into 4 AM comas after the baby wailed herself to sleep.

The lights have always been multi-colored and completely over done (How many strings of lights can you fit on one Christmas tree? We might hold the world record), because that's what caught the children's eyes. I loved to see those bright colors reflected in their eyes, as they stared open-mouthed the first time the lights were plugged in.

The years the kids were short, all of the ornaments were placed about knee high, on only the right side of the tree. Everything crammed onto the same three branches. The selection of ornaments was not particularly chic. Instead we had paper chains and popsicle stick reindeer, plaster hand prints and glitter glue creations. There were always a few cartoon character ornaments adorned with the children's names. And one teddy bear "Baby's First Christmas" ornament that had a place of honor front and center. Nothing frail or fragile has made it through the years.

Those trees were beautiful.

Last night, I pulled the Christmas decorations out of the attic. Our tree is sitting in the dining room, without securing paracord, waiting to be decorated. My almost grown children surveyed the ornaments as they were unpacked. The box of handmade keepsakes was pushed aside. Someone held up a box of coordinating ornaments that I bought at an after-Christmas clearance sale a few years ago. It's full of gold snowflakes and fashionable light-catching gold balls. It could potentially be the beginnings of a theme and a color scheme.

"I think we need more gold ornaments, Mom."

Perhaps we do. I should be hilariously happy. My long-held dream of that magazine-worthy Christmas tree finally within my grasp.

But I think we need more paper chains.

Giving The Gift of Constant Surveillance (Elf on the Shelf is Watching You)

We never "did" Santa with our kids. Instead of portraying myth as reality, we instead chose to accept the idea of Santa as an explicit rather than disguised symbol of generosity and compassion. Our children have always known that the presents wrapped in pretty packages and stacked under the tree sometime after they drifted off to sleep came from Mom and Dad and not a magical fat guy in a red suit. Some people have criticized our decision to not "do" Santa, saying that we robbed the children of the "magic of the holiday". Maybe. But my bed full of excited jumping kids plastered all over my Christmas memories tells me otherwise.

It must be tough keeping up the Santa facade. Lying to cover up lies. Concocting elaborate stories to answer honest questions from the inquiring minds of children. There have been other parents who became completely ticked off when my children accidentally tipped theirs off about the non-existence of Santa. Here I will officially apologize that my children exposed them in their lies. #sorrynotsorry.

Now there's this little guy to complicate the lies even further:

Elf on the Shelf. For the unfamiliar (Seriously, what rock have you been hiding under?), Elf on the Shelf is based on a self-published children's book of the same name. It's been all the rage with parents of small children for several years now. The $30 plush little "scout" elf  pops up after Thanksgiving Day to watch over kids and report back to Santa each night. They are Santa's informers, constantly keeping tabs on behavior. The children can't touch him or he loses his magic. He just sits there watching with his creepy doll's eyes. Parents must move him every night when their children aren't looking to maintain the front that their elf is actually real and visiting The Big Guy every night to discuss naughty/nice status, thus reinforcing the elf's constant vigilance.

The Elf on the Shelf phenomena has certainly added to the entertainment value of the season by filling up my Facebook news feed with pictures of him suggestively posed with Barbie and alcohol and other obvious mischief. (Makes me wonder how qualified the guy is for reporting on acceptable behavior. Elf on the Shelf is apparently quite corrupt and hypocritical... like government politicians). But what else has the cute, yet creepy little guy added to children's holiday memories?

Elf on the Shelf is supposed to add to the magic of the holiday, plus make a handy manipulative tool for managing young children's behavior. It's kind of an extension of the worst part of the Santa Claus myth, that he's always watching. "He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good. Blah, blah, blah..." Basically, the Elf is a prop masquerading as a holiday tradition to be used in the psychological bullying parents happily wage on their young children. Which is totally in their best interests, of course.

But the road to surveillance (elf inspired or otherwise) is often paved with the best of intentions, national security being the most glaringly obvious. But I'm coming from a cynical adult place that is filled with Edward Snowden and Wikileaks and Anonymous and the NSA run amok. Although, perhaps it is best to desensitize them when they are young, to get them used to the loss of privacy. Constant supervision and control from the early years will normalize wiretapping and government spying so it will be less traumatic for them as they grow up and lose any sense of privacy.

What better way to prepare our children for life in a full-surveillance totalitarian society? ...In the name of security, of course.

Pay no attention to George Orwell.

Besides, if you aren't doing anything wrong, you shouldn't have anything to hide... From Santa or your neighbors or the government. Privacy is selfish and just a way to protect bad behavior. You can't be trusted to make good choices without the threat of exposure should you make a mistake.

You can't be good for goodness sake. Be good because the elves are watching you.

Waging The War On Christmas

I ventured out from under my rock yesterday and went shopping. It wasn't entirely a miserable experience. The cashier was rather cheerful. She even wished me a "Merry Christmas". Having a customer service employee actually acknowledge my existence made me smile. I felt kind of warm and fuzzy with the spirit of the season.

But as I was hurrying away, my packages in tow, I wondered if I should be offended. It wasn't a very politically correct sentiment to share with random customers... and nothing is more important than being politically correct. If you aren't careful, the wrath of the entire planet might fall on your head. Look at Darius Rucker; he couldn't even get away with singing White Christmas without suffering from internet fall-out. Traditional Christmas songs are apparently offensive in their racial exclusiveness. (Forget that snow is white... as well as a very traditional symbol of the Christmas season. Don't confuse people with your science and logic. We have no room for that here!) Wishing people a "Merry Christmas" could be offensive in it's religious exclusivity. (Note for the sarcasm impaired: I'm being incredibly snarky here.)

Then I braved another store, also not an entirely miserable experience. This time the cashier wished me "Happy Holidays". Again having my existence acknowledged by a retail employee made my day. Plus being wished "Happy Holidays" was like a multiple choice question. I could choose which holiday to make happy. The list of winter holidays is after all, quite extensive. Saturnalia, Hanukkah, Ramadan, Boxing Day, Yule, New Year's Day, Festivus... I didn't know whether I should pick just one or all of them. This cashier could literally be wishing me happiness for the entire winter season!

But as I was rushing off to brave the chaos that is the mall parking lot, I wondered if I should be offended. According to Bill O'Reilly, there is a huge war on Christmas, and that smiling, well-wishing, existence-acknowledging cashier was on the front lines of the attack.

Seriously, there's like a war on everything these days. What kinds of weapons are used in a "War on Christmas"?

Tinsel and Glitter? (Very likely weapons of mass destruction.)

Holly? Ivy? Debauchery?

Alcohol and Santas?

Alcoholic Santas?

Tanks and fruitcakes? (Which one is more deadly?)

Demagoguery?

The War on Christmas has nefarious roots dating back to the 1950s, when the John Birch Society attempted to expose a communist plot to "take the Christ out of Christmas". It's always the commies...

Arm everyone! It's the War on Christmas!

Now people like Bill O'Reilly, The American Family Association, and the Religious Right are taking on evil Wal-mart greeters (seriously... they are evil), in-store advertisements, and rampant paganism. They are fighting to keep Christ in Christmas.

Certainly a noble battle.

However, dear noble warriors of the Christian faith... if your Christmases haven't been overflowing with good deeds...

If you haven't busied yourselves with the feeding of the poor, the clothing of the naked, the caring of the sick...

If you haven't been forgiving the guilty, welcoming the unwanted, and loving your enemies...

If you haven't been doing unto others as you would have done unto you...

Then perhaps your Christ was never in Christmas to begin with.

A holiday with Christ at the center would welcome the sinner and the non-believer. It would be filled with hope and love and charity... not the greed and gluttony and exclusivity that all too often characterizes this holiday.

I just can't see the Christ of the Bible caring one whit about whether the cashier at Target wishes you a "Merry Christmas" or a "Happy Holiday". He'd be too busy working on the things that matter, which would probably not include shopping at Target... unless he was purchasing clothing for the poor... but if Christians were busy about His work, He wouldn't have to do that, either.

So maybe there's no "War on Christmas" at all. Maybe pagans and Wal-mart greeters and democrats aren't trying to remove Him from the most sacred of Christian religious holidays, because He isn't there anymore. Maybe He left because he was tired of the hate and bigotry. Maybe He was tired of the shiny tinsel and glitter (God knows I am... pun intended... especially glitter. That stuff is like The Plague) and the lack of substance.

So stop shouting at each other. Stop with being offended when people don't think just like you. Stop lobbing fruitcakes at one another. Those fruitcakes are dangerous. You'll put an eye out. Focus on the important things. Then you'll be too busy to be offended.

And please, let's stop referring to this trivial childishness as a war. It's an insult to the victims of the destruction and savagery and carnage that is REAL war. There are no similarities here. There are no victims in this war.

Unless you count that one time my cousin got hit in the head with one of Aunt Edna's fruitcakes...

How Holiday Shoppers Are Exactly Like Zombies

Brace yourselves. It's almost time for the kick start of the Holiday Shopping Apocalypse AKA Black Friday. Little known fact: Black Friday gets it's name from the annual deaths of trampled holiday shoppers... and also the annual death of my faith in humanity. True story.

I know that if I venture out from the safety of my rock this weekend I'm going to be forced to face the hoards of mouth-breathing, crazy-eyed, brain-dead, object-driven consumers. It's going to look a lot like the zombie apocalypse out there, only without Daryl and Michonne (which we might as well just admit are the coolest parts of the zombie apocalypse).

If you do feel brave enough to venture out this long weekend for a holiday supply run... Godspeed. Be careful. Watch your back.

Because holiday shoppers are a lot like zombies.

Wait... which ones are the zombies again?

Don't believe me? Check this out...

How Holiday Shoppers Are Exactly Like Zombies

1. They are both attracted to flashy things and loud noises. Zombies like heat and loud noises. Remember in The Walking Dead, how Daryl burned a perfectly good yellow legal pad to distract zombies so he and Carol could slip by? Ever notice how zombies move mindlessly toward loud noises, assuming there might be something tasty making the noise?

Holiday shoppers are like that, too. They follow the hype and opinion of popular culture. Attracted by clever marketing and peer pressure, holiday shoppers spend money on things they don't really need but really, really, REALLY want. Even if it might break next week or they already have something that does the same thing or the product will be obsolete before next Christmas,they are going to buy it anyway, because the media created enough noisy social chatter and started a huge enough marketing fire, that consumers lose their minds and common sense (and often their dignity) to buy stuff. Like zombies, they believe that there will actually be something of substance behind the noise and the hype... but there rarely is.

2. They are both relatively weak and unintelligent individually, but are dangerous in large numbers. One middle class mom pushing a shopping cart isn't a big hazard. Mobs of crazed consumers waiting in crowded lines to grab insane holiday deals end up trampling security guards, sales associates, and old ladies (People, please keep your grandmas at home until after Thanksgiving weekend. It's for their own safety).

Zombies are like that, too. Remember how they busted down those glass department store doors in The Walking Dead season one and made a flaming mess out of the farm in season two? Good times. While they might be easy to deal with individually (like the solitary cart-pushing mom), it's easy to become overwhelmed by large numbers of them (like the materialistic consumer running-of-the-bulls that calls itself Black Friday).

3. They both lack common sense and a desire for self-preservation. On The Walking Dead, we've seen zombies impale themselves on sharp sticks in order to get to whatever shiny things consumed their attention. We've seen them walk straight into the flames of a burning building. They also don't seem to react at all to the destruction of their fellow zombies, walking instead right behind them into the same lethal dangers. I mean seriously, you would think that after seeing Carol and Daryl and Michonne stabbing all of those zombies in the eye, maybe just ONE zombie would think better of it and turn around to stagger in the opposite direction. Only zombies aren't like that... and neither are holiday shoppers.

Holiday shoppers ignore the financial hardship that will plague them come January first. Destructive debt is often considered a necessary part of the holiday shopping season. They may have seen their sister-in-law or their best friend run themselves into bankruptcy with violent bursts of holiday shopping consumption, but it doesn't matter. They still need more BOGO sweaters and iPhone6s and Disney Frozen Snow Glow Elsa dolls. So they barrel headlong into the self-destructive behavior that is flagrant over-spending and debt accrual, as if the same thing won't happen to them.

4. They both consume but are never satisfied. Zombies eat and eat and eat... and eat and eat, and if some poor living schlep happens to wander past, they're going to try to eat him, too. No matter how much a zombie eats, it's never going to be satisfied. It's just going to try to consume more in a hopeless pursuit of fulfillment.

Shoppers are like that, too. They buy and buy and buy... and buy and buy, and if they see some other cool thing while they are wandering aimlessly around the mall, they're going to buy that, too. This holiday season, Americans are projected to spend in the ballpark of 617 BILLION dollars (give or take a couple billion). In fact, they are predicted to do way more spending than they did last year. Yet only one in three Americans considers himself to be happy. As a nation we buy and spend and consume in pursuit of fulfillment that never comes, because happiness and satisfaction can't be bought and wrapped and placed under a Christmas tree.

5. They are both rude. Zombies step on each other and bump into each other and generally disregard other zombies while out roaming the streets looking for tasty people to eat. They never even say, "Excuse me." Then when they find someone, they gobble him up without once asking his buddy, "Hey Fred, do you want a taste of this yummy school teacher here. She just might be the best thing since sliced bread... and definitely more tasty!" You never see them scoot over and offer a severed arm politely to their companions. Never.

Holiday shoppers bump each other and smash into each other's shopping carts and sometimes step on, elbow, and even punch their fellow shoppers in their quest to be the first ones to grab the best deals. Then they snatch all of the on-sale HDTVs or iPad Minis without regard to the individuals behind them. You never hear them say, "You know what? I see that you really, really, really want these Beats By Dre headphones. It just might make your kid's Christmas. And since I already have more than a dozen in my cart, why don't you take this set? Your welcome! Oh.... and Merry Christmas!" Nope. Never.

See? Holiday shoppers and zombies. It's hard to tell the difference.

If you venture out this weekend, you might want to carry your crossbow just in case the holiday consumer-zombies get too dangerous. Of course, if you're going shopping... it's too late. You've already been bitten.