Bah! Humbug! (Or, Ebenezer Scrooge Meets 21st Century Tennessee)

Bah! Humbug! (Or, Ebenezer Scrooge Meets 21st Century Tennessee)

DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed below are strictly those of Ebenezer Scrooge and are not meant to thwart the happiness on The Happy Book Blog…or that of Christmas.

Mr. Scrooge: One thing I can’t stand about Christmas is that it begins appearing in stores as early as the 4th of July. You walk into Lowe’s to grab a piece of wire or a light bulb, and your senses are immediately smacked with cinnamon and your hair dusted with “snow” shooting out of a five foot tall Christmas tree now on sale for only $199.99!!!! (+ tax). Never mind the fact that we are still swiping on deodorant every two seconds to counter the cloying humidity of the South, and our yards will have to be mowed until Thanksgiving…dag-um, this is Christmas! The biggest holiday in the free world! And if businesses can’t get you in the red before Black Friday, then you are not even bona fide American!

Another thing I can’t stand about Christmas is the stress surrounding it. I believe this scarring took place when I was a young boy forced to do child labor. No, I did not sit in the back of some sweat shop sewing together cowboy boots with my tiny fingers or braiding rugs with pieces of my own hair. This child labor took place at my family’s very own kitchen table where I had to sit for hours upon hours doing the one thing I swear I will never EVER do again:

Addressing and stuffing the Scrooge’s 10 page Christmas newsletter.

Why are Christmas newsletters so stinking important? If we didn’t know that Frankie Earl Jr. is on the Honor Roll this year at Podunk Elementary and that Sally Sweetums has perfected the Shuffle, Ball Change to the detriment of Mommy Dearest’s polished floors and Father’s equilibrium, we really, really didn’t want or need to know! Plus, this is the age of Facebook and Twitter and that prehistoric social media medium called Myspace! Over the past 12 months we’ve been privy to more details of each other’s lives than if we’d all been participants on The Jerry Springer Show. I’m telling you, we do not need to know any more.

Then you have those who bypass the Christmas newsletter for the Christmas card. It usually has a manger scene on the front with the Virgin Mary in a halo 10 times bigger than her head, or a four inch angel wearing more glitter and gold than a Las Vegas show girl. Inside these cards are the usual holiday greetings and below this just:

Love,
Aunt Em and Uncle Stan

That’s it! No, How yous guys doing? No, Hope to see yous guys soon! Instead, all we have is Aunt Em and Uncle Stan’s John Hancocks that aren’t worth the 99 cent card they were written on. They could’ve at least sent a picture….

But then again, maybe not.

Speaking of Christmas pictures, that’s another thing I’ve been wondering….At what point in your life can you start sending those? Surely not when you’re single for that would only emphasize the fact, and all your well-meaning aunts would send you eHarmony gift cards for Christmas, and even when you are married, the picture-sending waters remain trickier to traverse than George Washington crossing that Delaware.

Don’t you at least have to have something to squish between you and your significant other before it is worthy to be viewed by Aunt Em and Uncle Stan? Like a baby or a stuffed bear? I’ve also noticed that real animals work great for this. You can put them between you and your significant other, angle their little doggy/kitty/goldfishy faces toward the camera and wa-la! your Merry Christmas pictures are good to go!

I am never going to mail those Christmas pictures even after I have a dog or a stuffed bear to claim because I would be at the mercy of all who received them. I am not going to mention any names, but I’ve witnessed this picture critique firsthand:

Oh, would you lookee here, Sally Sweetums…ever since that Tasty Freeze came to town, your cousin Marybelle sure has packed on them pounds, bless her heart.

Or:

My, oh, my! Auntie Em’s hairdo makes her look like something the cat drug in!

I also hate despise Christmas because it feels to me like one big competition. If the goal isn’t to have the tackiest wreathe on the front door, it certainly is to have the most twinkly lights on the house and fattest Santa on the roof without the poor plastic fellow falling right down through. Then you need all kinds of presents under your tree from the most expensive stores in town, and these sand tarts scrolled with icing so intricate it looks like something from off The Rosetta Stone. 

But, wait…oh my! It’s already 4:10, and I haven’t even gotten my beard trimmed and my Christmas vest on and my cheese tray compiled….

I know you’ll understand if I cut this kind of short. I’ve got a Christmas party to attend, and you know this time of year is when we really must prove we can keep up with them Marleys.