Merry Christmas from the Family

The Kingwood Reeders

Yikes! Who let those people into Kingwood? The good part, I mean. Not those dumps off of Northpark. Full of my non-equals. As I recall, we first rolled into Kingwood in the spring of 1973, late at night during a huge storm. We used a long-successful Reeder family tactic: get in when no one's looking, stay until they get rid of you. Kind of like termites. Or Justin Bieber.

OK, that's not really relevant to anything. So I'll move on.

Haven't gotten to share nearly as many fun times with you this year as I'd like. Stupid work and life keeps interfering with the important stuff. Like writing in a blog. By the way, 2004 thinks blogging is way cutting edge. Eh. Well, still. It keeps me from hitting the Pabst Blue Ribbon too hard I guess.

Anyway, hopefully I can turn this trend around and focus less on my career and building a successful personal life, and more on solitary time spent spewing out riveting observations about the issues that grip the world. Like who wins a fight between Patrick Swayze's Road House character (Dalton) and his Dirty Dancing character (Johnny). Or the best way to see a bullfight. Or whether we should throw Hugh Grant or Jimmy Falloninto the saarlac pit first.

Tonight, now that all the stockings are hung by the chimney with care, I just thought I'd issue my Christmas Message. Actually, that's something the Queen does every year. You know. To all of her non-equals. This is more like a Christmas Message in a Bottle.

Let's get this out of the way. Hope all you Affirmers and others have a great Christmas. Enjoy your families, friends, bartenders, what have you. See everyone on the other side.

Frankly, I have kind of mixed feelings about Christmas. Its basically the Hot Cheerleader of the holiday calendar. Its totally beautiful and alluring and exciting on the outside. But when you get involved and dig deeper, you find its either empty and hollow or the shiny exterior masks a dark interior. Either way, eventually it takes away your will to live.

Oh, sure. There's the "peace and love and goodwill to man" vibe that flares up every now and then around Christmas. In between 50,000 Old Navy commercials and waiting two hours to find a parking place at the mall, someone might wish you Merry Christmas like they actually mean it and that gives you a little lift. Kids run around elated, counting the days until the toy and sugar bonanza coming their way. Families gathered round the TV, watching the same specials that the parents watched as children with their parents. Well, at least while their parents were mixing martinis for some of the Dad's work friends and their wives who'd come over for a little Christmas party. God the '70s were obnoxious. Enjoying the gleam in a child's eye on Christmas morning as they behold Santa's bounty and open their presents (on Christmas morning, not Christmas Eve or Christmas afternoon, like true Americans who really love their country).

Christmas in my family was a mixed bag. We'd go to the annual family get together and see our cousins (the sadistic older ones and the not-quite-right, cockeyed ones who live out on the farm) and our aunts and uncles (most of whom scared the living crap out of me, the rest of whom ignored us or happened to know every disgusting intimate little detail about our lives courtesy of the veritable "hotline" they'd established to keep current about such things). We'd go see Santa and have our pictures made, then go the old Borden Ice Cream shop, right next to the plant. Or in later years go to the House of Pies and...eat pie. We'd attend Christmas Eve church services, then go to a movie. Usually the only movie of the year we'd get to see. Dad made Mom go to K-Mart and buy candy (lemon drops...lame) to sneak in with her purse. She hated that. Then we'd go back home and eat and open one, and only one, present. Then Christmas we'd open our presents (see above...this is how real Americans do it). A 30-60 minute period of satisfaction would follow as we enjoyed our new toys. Then, like a margarita's buzz wearing off, the new toys or other stuff would fade into obscurity, and it would be back to waiting for next Christmas. Oh, and one of us would generally get sick. That's all normal, right?

Anyway, we all looked forward to it. Whatever it was. Family. Togetherness. Tradition. Spirituality. Ice cream. Christmas can engender these things among us. And, perhaps uniquely among all other religion based holidays, non-believers widely enjoy Christmas and enjoy many of the same attributes. Hey, that's cool. I'm not here to judge. As David Puddy once said, you want to go to hell, that's your business. You're more than welcome to enjoy our holiday.

But Christmas just as surely evokes a dark side. Just keeping up with all its social demands causes enormous strain. Finding time to buy all the gifts, obsessing over whether some people will like what you bought them, spending a fortune in the process. dealing with shopping traffic, enduring the "holiday party" slog, eating other people's near-toxic cooking, putting up with your no-boundaries relatives criticizing all your life choices, becoming engulfed in crass commercialism, wrapping presents, sending cards, and of course, the obligatory Full House marathon. Sheez!

Beyond just the inconvenience, Christmas can exact a heavy toll on the people suffering in life. The hurting, the lonely, the sick. As Stevie Ray Vaughan would have said, "for everyone who's still suffering." A time when everyone's running around all happy, and when everywhere you turn you see images of people having fun and cherishing their loved ones. When you don't have that, its pretty tough to take the relentless positivism. Christmas reinforces your problems.

Christmas still means something positive, on balance though. When you peel away the dozens of cracking paint layers that have covered over Christmas, it still dramatically symbolizes hope. Even for non-believers. Think of the original Christmas story. The one Linus recited in A Charlie Brown Christmas. The angel of the Lord appeared to the shepherds, "and they were sore afraid." But the angel said "fear not." Well, and some other stuff. But that's what everyone can draw from Christmas. It embodies the fight back against the fear that inhibits you, crushes you, and steals your will. Christmas represents hope that something else awaits us besides the abyss. Despite plenty of evidence to the contrary. Like, the Kardashians.

So when Christmas runs you down like an 18 wheelertaking out a deer on the highway, just forget all the surrounding nonsense, like the Sonny and Cher Christmas Special (replete with Cher's very moving rendition of O Holy Night). Think about the hope it symbolizes.

Hey, if nothing else, take comfort knowing that Pee Wee Herman wishes you a Merry Christmas.