I like Christmas. That is fortunate, since I am engaged in both a business and a profession in which Christmas figures into the equation of success.
Some people complain about Christmas coming “too early”every year. But not me. I am more bothered by Christmas ending too soon than I am by its early arrival. Bring on the holly and the jolly. The glitter and the holiday bling. And of course the music, which is as full of sap as a freshly-cut Christmas tree.
I feel no intellectual or cultural abashment for my predilection for sentimental expression. This allows me the freedom to enjoy the whole Christmas enchilada with cheerful abandon.
A recent trip to the Nutcracker was splendid. Although Dorothy Gunther Pugh offered up a compelling prologue that hailed the giving-ness of the ballet’s thematic underpinnings, I didn’t see any reason for it. The story is as frothy as a pair of ruffled pantaloons, which let me tell you, really were very effective for shimmying with the dancers movements, let alone their pirouettes. (Good–spellcheck figured out what I meant, although it was not sure if perhaps I meant “pierogies”.) But more about pierogies, I mean pirouettes, and sugar plums later.
Right now, I am just so happy to see twinkling lights I don’t know what to do. I love seeing them all the way from work to Mr. Wu’s and then all the way back to my house.
The LED lights I bought this year don’t look as warm as I would wish, but still, the clarity of their colors remind me of stained glass mosaics in the darkness as I walk to my door.
Light verse has a bad rap, as do “made for TV movies” and pop music. Why? My favorite authors include Dostoevsky and I made a study of Machiavelli early on. But it is the dark side of the moon that makes me embrace its brighter, silvery side.
Our joy as human beings is so often better expressed in laughter and what we have in common. Our feelings, our sentiments are so universal, and our wishful thinking can itself bind us together.
Maybe that’s why Christmas feels so good.