Bah, Humbug

I don't know what it is with me but I just cannot get into the holiday spirit.

The total unspirited doldrums started before Thanksgiving and I believe it was transmitted to me via the hundreds of Black Friday flyers that filled my mailbox and fell out of the newspaper like a daily avalanche of paper. I tried to fight the urge to look but alas, gave in to the lure of the sales. While I did not need a 50% off can of turkey Spam, for a moment, I considered joining the rest of the crazed Hawaii folk eating a turkey bento in line at Walmart from Wednesday.

I take it back, the malaise actually started at Halloween because Christmas decorations were popping up next to the bags of candy. Seeing Santa next to a Spongebob Squarepants costume was jarring and way too premature a sighting for me. I guess it really bothered me on a subconscious level because I just cannot bring myself into a jolly, holly spirit.

I am ashamed to admit that the family actually went shopping on Thanksgiving Thursday. I told myself this was okay because everybody else would be doing it but when we got to Waikele, the shops were pretty empty. Please Sir, can I have a heaping spoonful of guilt on top of my lump of indifference?

It only got worse when I caved into the Diva's momentary lapse of sweetness and actually went to Ala Moana on Black Friday. Not early in the morning like the crazed hordes (yes, I can name names but I won't because I asked a bunch of you to buy stuff for me), but after lunch like the semi-nuts regular folk. I thought it was a good sign that I got a great parking spot where I usually park (behind Macy's out in the sun) but I was wrong. After unsuccessfully trying to squeeze my uh overly fluffy body into the Apple Store, I settled on a brochure from the salesperson in the front who had a look on her face of utter terror - like a lone mango tree being approached by a flock of starving mynahs. It was just not worth sacrificing life and limb to save $43 on an I-Pad.

The Diva didn't even get that far. She would be 1-2 shops away from the store she wanted to go to and would stop in her tracks to make a hasty retreat.

Chanukah didn't make things much better. While I always enjoy watching the kids light their candles, the minute the flames are struck, the inevitable question that escapes the lips of my delightful triad is, "WHERE'S OUR PRESENT?" usually followed by grumbling about having to read the Diary of Anne Frank play by the twins. Throw in having a sore arm and smelling like Tokuhon b/c I had to grate 3 pounds of potatoes and latkes and that is enough to bring on the whole Scrooge vibe to any Mama's already black heart.

I realized then that what is really getting to me is the whole cliche of commercialism over sentiment. Christmas is no longer a religious celebration, a time for bonding with family or a season of giving - it has become one extended Zooper Sale. Think about the conversations you have had with people since Thanksgiving? I bet the ones about the great bargains you got at Best Buy or what you ordered online on Cyber Monday are much more numerous than the ones about going to Church or visiting your parents. I can't condemn anyone though as I too am one of the credit card bearing lemmings jumping blindly and madly into the sea of holiday debt.

As I circled the Nordstrom parking lot yesterday, I tried to remember when this whole shift in consciousness had occurred. In the Neaderthal ages when i was a kid, I don't ever remember spending hours in December nagging my parents to buy me something, particularly something that I knew they could not afford. The answer to a request for something insane would have been simple, "No" and that would be that. Unlike the present where the response to a "No" can vary from "We'd have money if the Mad Cow would quit school" or "Can't you get another job?" or "Just charge it" or the ever popular, "Oh, I'll just tell Grandma to buy it for me."

When I think back to holidays when I was a kid, I cannot remember a single present that I received for Christmas. I vaguely remember wanting a doll named Velvet something where you pressed a button on her tummy, pulled her ponytail and it would grow but beyond that, I have no recollection of any of the stuff I hauled in. Instead, I remember a year where Santa fell off the chair at my Uncle's house b/c he had substituted his cookies and milk with a six pack of Primo beer. I remember catching bugs with my cousins at my Grandparents house as we listened to my Grandpa's radio blaring Christmas songs with a running commentary by J Akuhead Pupule. I remember seeing the real "Rudolph" at Ala Moana and getting a sticker that said "I met Rudolph" which became my prize possession. I remember the awe I felt, like travelling to another planet, when my Grandparents took the whole family to see Danny Kaleikini at the Kahala Hilton (okay, that one is kind of a consumer fantasy).

I wonder what my children will remember about the holidays spent in our home? Will they remember Tiger eating the reindeer poop that was deposited on the steps last year by Santa's crew? Will they remember when Alvin and the Chipmunks made a surprise visit to the Chongs' Christmas party? Will they remember the year that New Years Eve was cancelled because I was in the hospital but the five of us had a nice quiet celebration (instead of our usual housefull of people) as I recouperated at home?

Now, I know this feeling would totally turn around if Santa leaves me another scruffy dog in my stocking!!!