I Hate Santa! But What About the Real Meaning of Christmas?

Cheap ShapewearI have long struggled with my feelings on Christmas. No need to go into the whys and all right now, but let’s just say that though I have always felt the holiday had good meaning behind it, anymore it is nothing more than a commercialized joke. And a sick one, at that. Everyone just has to be out buying the biggest and best gifts. It used to be that people suffered from what they call “keeping up with the Jones'” (which means keep buying big stuff for yourself to keep up with what your neighbors are buying for themselves so you don’t look bad). But at Christmas time, it’s “keeping up with your family”- basically, an all-out attempt to make sure your relatives don’t outspend you on Christmas. Because after all, if they spend $100 on you because they can afford it, and you only spend $20, well then how does that make you look? Cheap? Well, that’s what the retailers would want you to believe. So you end up spending yourself into debt that takes you all of next year to recover from.

Then there is Santa Claus. Let’s first examine his minions- the guy at the mall with a santa suit on. Sure, he’s there to make your kids happy. He’s a stranger in a costume that makes them smile, gives them candy, lets them tell him what they want for Christmas. Just like other strangers want to do throughout the year… O.K., is it just me or does anyone else find that creepy? Does anyone actually know who these “santa” fellows are? Maybe it’s just me, but some old guy in a costume that I have never met before, he wants to give my kid candy while sitting in his lap… and I’m supposed to smile and pay for a photo of this? Any other time of year, and the guy would be arrested as a child predator, but hey, it’s Christmas time so it’s o.k.?!? And I say this while noting especially here in Boise, at the Boise Towne Square Mall, they put santa freak right next to the Victoria’s Secret store- so santa’s staring at you know what all day while passing out candy to the wee little ones. Can you say Mary Christmas?

Then there is Santa himself. The whole legend of some fat guy in a “magical” sleigh flying through the air pulled by eight tiny reindeer that most likely all combined weigh less than Jolly Old St. Nicholas. Seriously, as many cookies as this guy supposedly eats, he would be the Biggest Loser’s worst nightmare! It amazes me that he can make it to one house, let alone get out of bed! Obviously, from the weight of Santa alone we know that this story is a farce, yet we are supposed to treat him like a holy icon. Everywhere you go, it’s Santa this and Santa that. God forbid if stores actually say “Merry Christmas”, but it’s o.k. if santa’s hanging from every rafter in the building because after all, he’s the real meaning of the “holiday”- you know, the spirit of gimme gimme gimme cause I deserve it!

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