The past three or four years have found me gearing up for Christmas in ways I never thought I'd have to.
Instead of merely buying cards into which I insert my children's picture to send to relatives and friends, I have to make up my own and have them printed for me. The problem? Finding preprinted greeting cards that actually say MERRY CHRISTMAS.
Two years ago I went into my local Hallmark store thinking I'd pick up a couple of boxes of those frame cards, the ones you slip standard 4" x 6" pbotos into. I wanted them to say MERRY CHRISTMAS because I'd become sensitized to the vanishing of the religious bent of the season in such places as Walmart -- whose campaign to make it a Happy Holiday drew such fire they subsequently played CHRISTMAS music in their stores and reprinted their signage.
But try as I might, Hallmark couldn't deliver. Shelf upon shelf of beautifully illustrated cards that said everything from, "'Tis the season" and "Happy Holidays" to "This time of year is so special" and some mumbo jumbo about winter.
What season? Which holiday? What time of year? Winter? Are they serious? We're in south Texas where winter is little more than a two-page spread in a coffee table book about polar bears or Russia.
CHRISTMAS has become the proverbial elephant in the middle of the room. Merchants tiptoe around it, public schools dare not whisper its name, and even privately owned companies think twice before putting up wreaths or trees.
CHRISTMAS means many things to many people but for some weird reason its spiritual significance is its cultural downfall.
I am always amused by those who profess no religion yet get so balled up at those of us who do. If you don't believe in God or in the life and teachings of Jesus, why should a tinsel-draped tree make you grit your teeth?
I don't eat meat, but I don't become apoplectic when I see longhorn cattle grazing in a field near my house.
I don't like football but I don't puke and pass out at the sight of someone wearing a Texans jersey at the grocery store.
I don't drink alcohol and have, for most of my life, quietly endured gnarly tacky billboards advertising everything from Spuds Mackenzie in a speedo to slinky women in erotic poses with bottles of wine.
I don't speak Japanese but for three years worked in an environment surrounded by those who did. They often forgot I didn't know their language and would start talking to me in Japanese before switching halfway through to English. Did this piss me off? Nope, not one bit. It was their office, they could speak as they wished as long as I got paid.
So where in the world are all these whiny athiests and so-called multiculturalists coming from that they feel compelled to ruin a holiday loved and observed by more than 70 percent of Americans?
And can we send them back?
Meanwhile, I'm plotting my attack on political correctness run amok. When cashiers in stores say, "Happy Holidays," I will be responding with, "MERRY CHRISTMAS." When I'm signing a card for someone I'll write the same. And I'm forgoing the trend of adorning my front lawn with santas and Peanuts characters and light-up reindeer in lieu of a nativity scene. Yep, got my three-piece Holy Family ready to go.
You may laugh, but Jesus IS the reason for the season, and I'd be a traitor to my faith -- and a big fat liar -- if I played it any other way.
happy
No comments:
Post a Comment