Happy Hollow Days

Yeah, it's a shitty phonetic trick in the title there, huh? It's not that funny. I know.

I love the holidays, I do. I enjoy every bit of it. When I could afford it, I even loved the over-commercialization of Christmas. Sure, I've spent years of my life struggling with the drama and bullshit that seems to erupt towards the end of the year, even pinching myself in the aisles of department stores hoping I make the right gift choice for whoever it is on my shopping list. It seems ridiculous because it is ridiculous. We've over thought this thing for so many years that we can't see that it is so fucked up. I mean, really.

When I was a kid it was all about Santa. Of course, my brother and I were slaves to Santa. Especially come November because that's when parents start hammering that shit home. We got older and morality gained prevalence and the Christ story became a larger part of our Christmas. Santa and Jesus had quite a feat before them, taming the wild heathen children of the early 1980's.

Christmas has always been crazy. It's gotten so crazy now that I feel insensitive just calling it Christmas. If I don't say "Happy Holidays" I'm probably stepping on someones' toes. Kids in grade school have it the worst. I feel sorry for the lot of them these days growing up in a politically sound world. When I was a kid and we had a Jehovah's Witness in the classroom it was their tough shit that they didn't celebrate. "Ahh... look at poor Brian... He doesn't get a cookie because his family adheres to ridiculous ideals." We didn't hiccup. They didn't get a cookie. Their parents had a lot of explaining to do.

Nowadays, everybody must be included, to the point that it is even more fucking ridiculous.

It just doesn't make sense. When I was a child, if I didn't enjoy something, it was my fault. Now we walk on eggshells, hoping that we did it right. Hoping we made everybody happy. Crossing our fingers that we weren't found at fault for someone's foul mood. None of it makes sense.

We are trying too hard to impress ourselves. Shut up. You can't do it. Don't buy me a french press, I already have one. My daughter doesn't need another tutu. I'm sorry, I didn't know you had three copies of 'The Catcher in the Rye.' Why can't we just hang out and have a good time? oh, yeah, 'cause there are socio-ploitico- religulious obligations called the fuckin holidays to be had. I think I just made up words. word.

love to your breasteses.