At the risk of sounding bah-humbuggy, let me just say that the Christmas season starts too early and lasts too long.
And why does Christmas rate a season anyway? Halloween doesn’t get a season. Memorial Day doesn’t get a season. The Fourth of July doesn’t get a season. Even Millard Fillmore’s birthday doesn’t get a season. Football, like Christmas, gets a season. What this means is that Christmas is as big as the Dallas Cowboys. Think Jerry Jones as Santa.
You can’t avoid Christmas unless you’re a hermit. Make that a hermit without grandchildren. If you’re a hermit with grandchildren, you’re over at Best Buy looking for Playstation 4.
For two or three weeks now I’ve been getting so many gift catalogs in the mail that if I piled them up and lit them, I could start a forest fire in a rainstorm. And most of them have come from businesses all over the U.S. where I’ve never shopped.
I hear that both Amazon and UPS are considering the use of drones one day that can deliver Christmas presents to your door. I suspect Amazon is already using a drone to land on my roof, and then sending my address to the National Security Agency. Otherwise, how would The Vermont Country Store know where I live?
Christmas is like dirt. It’s everywhere. I walked into Walgreens the other day and saw my first dog of the holiday season wearing those faux antlers. You know Christmas is a’comin’ when people start dressing up Fido to look like Rudolph.
It’s gotten so bad that some stores across the country started decking the halls (of the mall, that is) with Christmas sales on Thanksgiving.
That’s right. If you were thankful for the stores interrupting your stuffing, you got your wish. It’s not that I’m all that wild about cranberry sauce. But if I had gotten the wishbone, I would have wished that the stores would knock it off and wait until I’ve finished my pumpkin pie.
But they won’t. Or, as satirist Tom Lehrer once wrote in song, “Angels we have heard on high, tell us to go out and buy.”
‘Tis the season to be jolly. Is anybody listening to that message anymore? There have been reports of shootings, stabbings and pushing and shoving over Christmas deals at stores on Black Friday. Maybe they should change the name to Black-and-Blue Friday. Or Black Eye Friday.
I thought we were supposed to be celebrating Jesus’ birthday. As best I know, Jesus never said: “Thou shalt go to Wal-Mart and club somebody over the head over a Barbie Doll.”
I’m surprised I’ve yet to hear “Grandma Got Trampled by a Reindeer” on the radio, but I know it’s coming.
Want to know how overwhelming Christmas has become? The last vestiges of the much beloved and long-defunct Armadillo World Headquarters, the legendary Austin rock venue, live on in the form of a Christmas shopping opportunity.
Started up 38 years ago in part as an efficient way for hippies to sell fancy arts and crafts to well-heeled West Lake Hills and Tarrytown residents, this year’s Armadillo Christmas Bazaar opens Dec. 17 at the Palmer Events Center. The really good news? The bazaar has a bar. So you can Christmas shop and drink beer at the same time. How about a few stanzas of the “Hallelujah Chorus” here?
“We all know it’s the best selling point we’ve got,” said Bruce Willenzik, the Christmas Bazaar’s producer. “I had one lady tell me that ‘I hate my husband nagging me about Christmas shopping, but he always likes to go to the Christmas Bazaar.’ I told her it’s the beer that makes him happy.”
There’s no escaping the Kringle crunch, is there? Apparently I’m not getting out enough because I’ve yet to see a BMW on MoPac with a wreath hanging off the front bumper. You know it’s time to drag out the Christmas lights when the auto wreaths show up, right?
The day before Thanksgiving, I noticed that someone had decorated some of the cedars like Christmas trees out on Loop 360. Great, a Christmas tree that gives half of Austin a reason to visit their allergists.
And it’s not enough that you buy presents for everybody else. Ever heard the term “self-gifting?” That’s the new marketing tool, suggesting that while you’re out shopping for the kids, maybe you should pick up a little something for yourself.
As hectic as Christmas has become, might I suggest a Xanax?
Of course, it’s all for a worthy cause, and if you’re not decking the halls you’re not patriotic. The nation’s economy depends on all of you people maxing out your bank cards.
So get out there and shop so that the stock market doesn’t crash. It’s your patriotic duty.