Christmas

Christmas

Speaking personally, there is not much about Christmas I like. I am not conventionally religious, still less Christian, so that angle carries little appeal for me. It is also quite exclusionary to dwell on this aspect, given that many people are not Christian and it is meant to be a holiday for anyone who chooses to celebrate it. More to the point, and more controversially, I think the whole Santa Claus palaver is tacky, absurd, and a giant lie. Why this affection for the fat man in the red suit in a cold place with a big white beard? Would it be as popular if he were dark-skinned, dressed in Victorian garb, and with only a moustache? Does it have to be reindeer in the sky instead of dogs going across land? And what is it with the compulsory present-giving—whose idea was that? Very inconvenient, fraught with danger, and tedious beyond belief. Why punish ourselves like that? Nor is it a nice day for the turkeys among us (maybe we could have a turkey story instead). It’s also incredibly boring on the day itself once lunch is over. The television is terrible, the weather is usually bad, and indigestion is rampant. It just isn’t much fun. You always feel happy when it’s over. Why do we have it? I don’t know. I’ve given it up. I just do the things I most enjoy on that day—tennis, reading, cooking, maybe seeing friends. I quite enjoy it that way. You don’t have to be like Scrooge in order to give Christmas a miss.