Columnists
The Peppermint Schtick
Before we’ve even reached the halfway mark in the month of November some folks are going on about the “Christmas” versus “Holidays” malarkey. Come on. No one, not even the P.C. Cops, is telling you the use of the word “Christmas” is against the law. Oy vey! Is this really about political correctness or are you just belly-aching about something someone whispered in your ear about a decade ago? Is it really about putting Christ back into Christmas or, for that matter, keeping Christ in Christmas? Seriously, a whole lot of people don’t give a rat’s nipple about the true meaning of the “holy day”. You know it’s true. Show me a page on anywhere in The Good Book where Santa Claus is mentioned and I’ll go to Midnight Mass. We’ve got ourselves a big ole Pandemic Christmas on the horizon and people are still whining and whinging about “someone” telling them they can’t use the word “Christmas”. Good grief, Charlie Brown! We’ve certainly got bigger cookies to decorate, don’t we?
Seriously, what the H E double root-beer flavoured- candy-cane abominations is wrong with us? We couldn’t possibly be any more annoyed with absolutely everything, than we are right now. Autumn was barely underway when we lined up at the cranky gate. Shucks, Giant Tiger and Rexall had barely put the tiny Hallowe’en chocolate bars on sale when the first comment about “Happy Holidays” versus “Merry Christmas” appeared on social media pages and feeds. A Toronto friend, who happens to be related, announces, every year, how he’ll never buckle under and switch from “Merry Christmas” to “Happy Holidays”, as if someone told him it was written as an amendment to the Constitution. The thing is he’s never afraid to take a holiday at Christmas, or to celebrate a happy holiday. Two minutes after Remembrance Day he gets all up into a tinsel tangle about what he sees as an affront to his “holy” merry-making. Pass the Holy Egg Nog and Blessed Gingerbread Men, please.
A woman in the local drug store felt the need to let me know she was going to email the greeting card company and tell them that anything other than “Merry Christmas” on those Hallmark-type greeting cards was positively wrong. “What would Jesus think of this “Happy Holiday or Season’s Greetings” nonsense?” Indeed, what would Jesus think about how the western world has twinkled-up his birthday? And, in all of my years, I never thought the debate over dark versus light fruit cakes would take a backseat to anything, and here we are. Obviously, the hue of your fruit cake can’t touch the evil of the subliminal messages of festive holiday greeting cards. A few years back we raged on about the Starbucks holiday message on their disposable cups. Apparently, we don’t all celebrate the Festive Season the same way and “shame on Starbucks” when they introduced those jolly, colourful take-out containers, to say nothing of their “Christmas Blend” of coffee beans.
We’ve twisted it all out of shape, kids. And not in a good, pepperminty kinda way, either. This Christmas thing, seriously, what are we afraid of? Most of us don’t even know what the season is all about, anyway. We’ve got Christmas trees in our front room because Jesus had one, if I remember the story correctly. We’ve got stockings hanging off the bookshelf —the same kind of bookshelf Joseph made for sale in his Middle East shop. Let’s not for get about the plate of goodies for Santa, who stopped over at the stable just after the Magi left. Then some of us have the nerve to turn around and blather on about whether we should be careful with our greetings. At our crazy mixed-up house, we’ve got a tree, we’ve got stockings, sometimes we have presents and we always have family around. It could be a time to be grateful, to show our appreciation for the good things, the good times and the good people in our lives. It shouldn’t just be a Christian thing. (Yeah, I’m not a Christian.) And, here we are, stubborn and stupid about the words on a flipping greeting card, the colour of a takeout cup, and the colour of our Festive Holiday Seasons Doorstop Cake. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday (that’s WTF, to those of you who don’t know me). By the way, Christmas cake should be dark, just like Jesus was, as far as I’m concerned.
Festive coffee cups. Happy Holidays. Merry Christmas. Light fruitcake. Dark fruitcake. Santa Claus. Baby Jesus. We’ve missed the point. Yep, we missed the pointy, licked, peppermint stick.
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