Enough with the Fucking "War on Christmas"

I don’t really believe in the War on Christmas. Do you?

In New York and Philly I worked with a good number of Jewish people, a few Hindus and Buddhists, and very few Muslims. But I still say Merry Christmas, because it’s the holiday I’m celebrating, even if I am not particularly religious. If they say, “Thank you, but I’m Jewish,” then I say, “Well happy holiday/happy new year/have a nice day.” It’s about sharing a warm sentiment, not forcing my beliefs on people who have no interest in converting.

I have yet to have anyone snarl at me, “Look, keep your Christianity to yourself, asshole! Long live Mohammed!”

The only people who seem offended this time of year are Christians. I recently received an e-card which stated Merry Christmas, along with the following note. Is it me, or is this a little hostile and dictatorial for tidings of great joy?

I will be making a conscious effort to wish everyone
a Merry Christmas this year ...
My way of saying that I am celebrating
the birth Of Jesus Christ.
So I am asking my email buddies,
if you agree with me,
to please do the same.
And if you'll pass this on to
your email buddies, and so on...
maybe we can prevent one more
American tradition from being lost in the sea of
"Political Correctness".

The real issue, it seems to me, is why certain Christians seem to have a need to feel like an embattled minority. A brave, lonely few—rather than the largest and most prominent religion in the country—desperately fighting the good fight against the forces of evil. Why?

I know, I know…it’s very seductive to feel like the underdog. Believe me, I adore wallowing in self-pity as much as the next War-on-Christmas whiner. I love thinking the whole world is going out of its way to trip me up and destroy me. When, three days before Christmas, I found out my car needed over $600 of repairs, I was convinced the Universe itself was out to spite me (and made sure all of my long-suffering friends knew exactly how put-upon I felt). But then I realize that I’m just an insignificant speck of dust and no one gives a damn about me or my problems, much less is going out of their way to cause them, and all is right with the world.

Also, was it really “political correctness” that started this alleged war? When conservatives whine about the War on Christmas, I can’t help but recall that the phrase “Happy Holidays” wasn’t even on my personal radar until I went to work for a big corporation. The small, privately owned company I originally worked had no problem talking about the “company Christmas party” or the “Christmas bonus.” Conversely, the large multinational companies where I’ve worked, terrified of alienating a potential source of profit or savings, whether they be a Hindu vendor in India, a Muslim colleague, or a Jewish customer, issues generic greeting cards that say “Happy Holidays” or “Season’s Greetings.” After all, you wouldn’t want to lose out on those Hannukah or Kwanzaa dollars!

Big business is the true take-the-Christ-out-of-Christmas sellout. They’re so eager to make a buck and turn this religious holiday into a festival of secular spending that they use any means necessary to lure shoppers to the mall. So listening to pro-business conservatives whine about businesses pushing “Happy Holidays” in their advertisements is a wee bit hypocritical—it sounds to me like the conservative version of liberal parents blaming “society” for their kids’ problems.

Also, it’s the big businesses that have the most to gain from swapping out “holidays” for “Christmas.” I recall a Jewish coworker telling me with a shrug that Hannukah is not even the biggest holiday in the Jewish calendar. (I forget which one is: Passover? One of them is more important, but is not timed to coincide with Christmas, and so goes ignored by Macy’s and Walmart.)

She seemed to imply that, if anything, there was a “War on Judaism”—that Hannukah was being misconstrued simply because of its place in the calendar, taken over by corporate America and the media and remade into a big, gift-giving, gluttonous, Festival of Mass Consumption, the better to compete with Christmas, rather than the smallish holiday it actually was.

She said when they were growing up, they didn’t really receive tons of big gifts. It wasn’t “eight crazy nights,” it was a few small things—chocolate coins, coloring books, scarves and mittens, a cassette tape, and of course, the dreidel toy. Not a Wii, an I-Phone, a new Ralph Lauren cashmere coat, jewelry. She was like, “Yeah, we’d light a candle, say a prayer, open up some candy. Hannukah was never a big deal.”

Could it be that big department stores are the ones who really have the most to gain from convincing non-Christians that Hannukah and Kwanzaa are BIG, BIG GIFT-GIVING HOLIDAYS? I don’t know a single Christian who, frankly, gives a damn what Jews or Muslims do to celebrate, as long as it doesn’t involve freaky music blaring at all hours of the night. I don’t know any weak-minded fool whose faith is so flimsy that they are going to stop going to church or not put up a Christmas tree simply because someone wished them “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas.” But retailers certainly care, and are willing to alter their decorations and advertising language to suit their myriad customers.

According to Wikipedia:

In the United States, "Happy Holidays" (along with the similarly generalized "Season's Greetings") has become the common greeting in the public sphere within the past decade, such as department stores, public schools and greeting cards.

Exactly! Among my friends, family, and acquaintances, people I know well enough to know their religious affiliation, we say Merry Christmas to each other. In the PUBLIC SPHERE, i.e, at work, school, and in stores where I’m simply exchanging pleasantries with a sales clerk, I may say Happy Holidays or whatever.

Frankly, given my misanthropic bent, the fact that I’m wishing them well AT ALL is cause to rejoice, since my true sentiments are more likely to be, “And could you move any slower, dipshit? Oh, now you’re going to WRITE A CHECK IN THE EXPRESS LINE—are you aware it’s the 21st century? I know leggings are back in style but what made you think YOU could pull that off? Oh, an Annoying Yappy Elmo doll. Thanks a lot. I look forward to sitting next to your child on a plane! Like his constant seat-kicking and screaming isn’t bad enough!”

Instead I smile and say Happy Holidays.

Some advocates of the phrase view it as an inclusive and inoffensive phrase that does not give precedence to one religion or occasion. Critics view it as an insipid alternative to "Merry Christmas", and view it as diminishing the role of Christianity in Christmas, or part of an alleged secular "War on Christmas".[4]

Again, I agree. Inclusive. Inoffensive. I’m not trying to alter your faith. I’m saying I have no fucking idea what your faith is because you are a total stranger but, you know, supposedly Christ was all about the brotherhood and love, and ‘tis the season to be jolly, so have a nice day, OK?

Finally, if there were truly a secular War on Christmas, wouldn’t we, the secular, be warring on EVERY expression based in religious belief? Even my most stone-cold atheist friends say “Bless you,” when someone sneezes, not “Gesundheit” or “May the temporary glitch to your system not herald the onset of serious illness!”

We also say things like, “God forbid I don’t get my end-of-year bonus!”

Newsflash: I’m not actually praying to God. I’m praying to the C.E.O. But it’s just a common expression, as devoid of meaning as “Happy Holidays.” It’s not making me more religious to say it.

I feel like it doesn’t really matter what anyone says—there are always going to be the loudmouth Hannity/Coulter/O’Reilly types who just need an excuse to be outraged, because it gets them ratings and book sales and gives shape to their otherwise unproductive lives. It’s so much easier to rail and rebel AGAINST an imagined enemy, than to work to positively construct something solid and real. Why work up a sweat by, say, building and operating a Christian orphanage, when you can just go on TV and complain about Everyone Else?

They should thank their secular “opponents”—without them, what would any of these people actually DO for a living? At least priests lead congregations. What is sadder than a pundit without an audience? Oh, right—lots of things, like children left homeless and dying of dysentery and malaria following a natural disaster. But let’s not waste time trying to do anything about that! Not when there’s the War on Christmas to fight!

The truth is that secular folk really aren’t thinking about Christians at all. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Have a Nice Day—whatever. Seriously. We really are that self-absorbed. The ones who aren’t, are busy volunteering at Planned Parenthood and donating money to animal shelters and the Sierra Club. That’s kind of the point. If we don’t care enough to go to church, what makes you think we care enough to war against you? There are way more interesting wars to fight.

As for me, I send out my Christmas cards based on how cute ‘n cheap they are, not what the pre-printed message says. If the most affordable box of cards with the prettiest picture says Happy Holidays, oh well.

Try to keep up, Christmas! Maybe you just need cooler artists!

(Also, it seems tacky to talk about a "war" on Christmas when there is a real war going on, fought by real soldiers, not retailers and advertising reps.)

Gifts from Boys to Girls

It's so hard to shop for a gift for anyone, much less a significant other. I know, because I am hard to shop for (or so I've been told), and also I find it impossible to shop for anyone I'm dating. It's one thing when your mom gives you a Winnie the Pooh nightgown. Moms are old, and nostalgic; they may forget you aren't four years old anymore. It happens.

But how could a boyfriend think of you in that way? Is he seeing someone else? Why else would he give you a Winnie the Pooh nightgown? Why would he give you a cordless electric screwdriver, if not to say, "I don't love you anymore. Do your own home repairs, I'm outta here?"

Is it me? Do I read too much into these things?

Bad Gift #1: The Cordless Screwdriver, Part One

Rationale: "But you needed it!"

Moral: Girls may NEED power tools. We may WANT power tools. However, with this gift, timing is crucial. The time to give a woman power tools is on a Saturday when she has some work to do around the house, just to show you care. The time NOT to give a woman power tools is Christmas, her birthday, or Valentine's Day. On these days, am I wrong to expect perfume and theater tickets, not chainsaws and staple guns?

Bad Gift #2: Cubic Zirconia Earrings

Rationale: "I had some leftover travelers checks and was at Macy's. I didn't know what else to get for twenty bucks."

Moral: Fake diamonds? Do I give you fake blow jobs?

It's not like I'm a snob. I wear fake jewelry. I like fake jewelry. Fake jewelry is what I buy for myself. My mom forces fake jewelry on me all the time, under the assumption that a woman who is not bedazzled is not truly a woman and I'd probably be married by now if I just dressed up a bit more.

However, handing a woman a small velvet box with something shiny inside has become too much of a Major Event. You have to make sure what's in the box is worth the build-up.

If you only have $20 to spend, buy chocolate or even a cute Tshirt, buy food and cook her a nice dinner. Just don't buy the shame of having female family members gush over the sparkly thing on her finger and then, when they find out it's fake, stare at her with deep pity. Pity is never a thoughtful gift.

Also, it will backfire as your girlfriend's female relatives will then begin to relentlessly hound you at every gathering with "So when are you going to exchange that for the Real Thing, huh?" Nudge nudge! You don't want to do that to yourself.

Bad Gift #3: The Cordless Screwdriver, Part Two

Moral: There is no moral, only angst. Why do people keep buying me cordless screwdrivers?!

Even great gifts can backfire, through no fault of the giver. I received a cashmere scarf from a man who wasn't my boyfriend, but wanted to be, so it came with a huge helping of guilt and angsty "should I really accept this expensive scarf when I know I'm never going to sleep with him?" I also received a Coach handbag from a boyfriend, which was nice, but then I was bored with it within a year yet felt obligated to continue carrying it seeing as how he'd spent over $250 on it. (Could it be I broke up with him just so I had an excuse to stop carrying the old bag? No, of course not.)

I received two poems in college, which was nice, except one was from a good friend who then became an awkward not-friend, and one was from a pseudo-hippie who self-published an embarrassing pamphlet of poetry and quotes cribbed from French novels, and used to frequent the diner where I worked, which then made it awkward when he came in for coffee. Still, I liked receiving the poems, since I hardly consider myself the kind of woman men wrote poetry for (and considering I didn't date either of them, I'm probably not).

Another time my then-boyfriend bought me a Crock Pot. I can't recall how this came about, but since it wasn't given on a birthday or Valentine's Day, I didn't mind. I still have that Crock Pot. I've finally gotten to the point where I can make chili without thinking of who gave it to me.

Maybe expectations are too high when romance is involved. Maybe I've read too many articles about celebrity couples who exchange sports teams, castles in Europe and bracelets that cost more than my life insurance policy.

I feel like I don't care what I get, as long as it doesn't cause me to think, "A gift certificate to a seafood restaurant? My God, you don't know me at all." (Everyone knows I hate seafood. Everyone. I'm sure even Barack Obama knows at this point.) It just seems to make sense that the person you spend the most time with, should know you the best. But oddly, this often isn't the case, and gift-giving time is when the truth comes out.

For example, once I lost my favorite pair of sunglasses. They were plastic and cost maybe $20. When I received a replacement pair as a gift, I was extremely happy. He was paying attention! That's really all I want, I think: proof that he's actually, you know, listening.

I want a gift that says: I think you are beautiful, feminine, smart, and perfect in every way.

I do not want a gift that says: Cook for me, clean up after me, you are so practical and down-to-earth (read: dull) and easy to talk to, which is great, because then I don't have to try so hard with you as I do with other women who need to be impressed with fancy jewelry and perfume, and because you are such a hearty, hefty peasant women, I know this plough will come in handy in the garden, and because you are such a big pushover I know you won't complain no matter what, because you have to be grateful to get anything, because you are hideous and I don't really love you enough to make an effort. Enjoy your cordless screwdriver!

OK, I answered my own question. I do think too much about these things.

I don't think I'm great at buying gifts for men, but I blame them. I don't know if guys are less materialistic than women, but basically, guys seem to need less stuff. And the stuff they do want tends to be extremely specific and/or expensive and/or dull. He may need shirts and ties and boxer shorts, but that's dull. He may want a flat-screen TV, but that's too freaking expensive. Perhaps he likes golfing or computers or building robots in the basement, but how the hell would I even begin to know what kind of special, specific piece of equipment would be useful to his hobby? And chances are, if he's really that into the hobby, he already has everything he needs, because when someone loves something that much they don't hesitate to buy it for themselves.

And guys just don't like...stuff. You can't get off easy with an adorable set of miniature candles or lotions or soaps or lip glosses in six flavors including Gingerbread, Vanilla Cupcake, and Candy Cane. You can't give them cute little ornaments or knick-knacks, even if it is in the colors of their favorite sports team. And a guy who owns one nice leather manicure set owns one nice leather manicure set too many, because he's only ever going to steal the toenail clippers out of his girlfriend's manicure set anyway.

So I've given a lot of crummy, boring gifts to guys. Sweaters, books, new electric razors, wool socks, I don't know. I don't even know what to get my brothers. I know they like video games, but they buy the ones they want for themselves the minute they're released, leaving nothing to chance. One of them hunts, but I'm not giving someone a box of ammo for Christmas.

But unlike me, guys don't seem to read anything into it. At least if they have, I've never noticed. They just don't seem to care. "A sweater? That's nice." It gets chucked in the corner where it sits, tags still attached, until I pick it up and take it to the Salvation Army. There's no ill will.

As far as I can tell, the only thing men like about the holidays is the food. As long as there is lots of meat and potatoes and pasta, followed by cookies and coffee, they are happy and consider the day a success. I've now met at least four men who say that Thanksgiving is their favorite holiday, and why wouldn't it be? They get to eat and watch football. No high-pressure gift exchange, and the women do the cooking.

Last summer I had drinks with a guy who told me he'd recently had a physical and his doctor had given him the all-clear. He was totally healthy, which was great considering he'd really been wild in his 20s and was glad to settle down now knowing he had low cholesterol and no STDs. This was within one hour of meeting him for the first time. I suppose when it comes to romance, I should just be grateful never to have received the infamous gift that keeps on giving.

Fortunately I'm not dating anyone right now, so I'm off the hook this year, for both shopping and STDs. But rinsing out the Crock Pot and putting it back on the shelf makes me think of these things.

What is the best gift to buy for a significant other? Have you ever received a truly terrible gift from someone who should know better, considering they've been sleeping next to you for months or years? Have you ever given a gift that made someone cry--and not with tears of joy?

The Gift That Keeps On...

What IS "the gift that keeps on giving?" Where did this expression come from, and what does it mean?

Wikipedia has not been helpful. Google turned up an article on sperm, in which a man is suing for emotional distress after his ex-lover used his stored sperm to have a child after they'd broken up. It also turned up references for subscriptions to The Economist, Sarah Palin, the House ethics committee, Christian values, a new French holiday film, and anything else that, like the Energizer bunny, goes on and on and on.

And here I always thought it was a sarcastic expression referring to herpes! Then I heard it in an unironic context, like in a TV commercial for a mattress warehouse. Whenever the holidays come around, I see it applied to everything.

Jelly of the Month Club? It's the gift that keeps on giving, because you get a new jar of jelly every month!

A new television set? Netflix subscription? It's the gift that keeps on giving, because you can use it all year, not just one day. But shouldn't that be true of most gifts? If that's the criterion, than shouldn't a sweater or pair of slipper socks also be a gift that keeps on giving?

How about constructive criticism? If someone tells you you really need to lose weight, and the comment stays with you, forever and ever, and even after you've lost 20 pounds you still keep thinking about it and thinking you're a terrible person every time you eat a cube of cheese, could that not be considered a gift that kept on giving--reminding you to improve yourself while trashing your self-esteem year after year?

Or a bad habit? If you're 14 and a friend hands you a cigarette and says, "Come on, do you always have to be Little Miss Pure and Perfect?" and you develop a lifelong habit that you can't kick, is that a gift that kept on giving?

And then there are the gifts that come back to bite you in the ass, again and again:



















Actually, this one wasn't really a gift--more like an act of charitable malice on my part. Charitable, because the talking Rosie O'Donnell doll, a what-the-fuck-was-he-thinking gift to a friend from an uncle, was headed for the scrap heap. She was on her way out to the Dumpster when I stepped in, maliciously recognizing her power to serve as an irritant of almost unfathomable potency.

She chuckles with evil glee: Heh heh heh!

She baby-talks: "What a cutie patootie!"

She encourages: "Dreams come true--with Rosie!" (And without Rosie? Dream on, kid!)

She sexually harasses: "Give us a kiss! Mwwwaahh!"

I brought Rosie to the office, where she provided at least a full day's torment before I abandoned her. When I left the job, I left Rosie to the care of an apathetic colleague.

Shortly after starting my new job, I received a FedEx package. Out flopped Rosie, squealing "What a cutie patootie!" in the silent, grim white morgue that is my new office. I kicked her under the desk, where she lived for several weeks while I strived to find her a new home.

When that didn't happen, I decided she'd had a good, long reprieve from the Dumpster, a few years at least, and It Was Time. But as I tried to put her in the trash can, a coworker happened to gaze upon her. It was love at first "Give us a kiss!" Rosie moved to a spare chair, and has lived there ever since. One woman has developed a disturbing fondness for the doll, and will often come over and cuddle it.

Last week a coworker received a gift bag from our boss. (He was the only one in the department to receive a personal gift from the boss.) It contained several items, among them a toy windup train and a pair of felt reindeer antlers.

Or are they horns? There is a difference between antlers and horns which my sister-in-law, a wilderness recreation management major, once took pains to point out to me. In what had to be an immense faux pas in Montana, I incorrectly referred to an elk as having one or the other, and she was horrified. And now I can't remember, but probably in New York no one will know or care.

Anyway, knowing they were destined for regifting or recycling, I claimed the antlers for Rosie right away. Doesn't she look festive? In an office lacking in holiday cheer, Rosie does her best to keep our spirits uplifted.

Maybe the Talking Rosie Doll is the gift that keeps on giving. Never have so many been so irritated for so long, over something so little. Oh well. Beats herpes. I guess.