Which one of us in today's world doesn't remember the magnificently-humorous Erma Bombeck? She was a woman who saw something funny in every single aspect of life, even the hardest and, sometimes, saddest, moments.
Erma said, "There's nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child." G I Joe a touching and telling comment. As adults, we scurry and run around and worry. Have we bought presents for everyone we need to buy for . . . and enough? Did we get the house decorated, and does it look as good as the neighbor's house? What are we going to make for Christmas dinner? Who are we going to invite? Who can we not invite, Fantastic Four insulting too many people?
Can we really afford all this?!
There is very little we don't worry over during the holidays. For a time of the year which is supposed to define universal love, happiness, and hope, it's become, instead, a season where dollar signs are the most predominant visions we see dancing in our heads day-in-and-day-out . . . rather than sugarplums (what are they, anyway?!). So many things to do, and really only a few months in which to do it all. Usually, Christmas Eve arrives and we're all still running around, by this time a glazed and battle-weary look in our eyes, stalking the mall aisles for anything-anything!-still on the shelves. Oh no! We forgot Uncle Arthur . . . there! Grab that, that . . . that whatever-it-is, right there. It's green and he likes green.
And why is it that so many of us leave wrapping all these whatevers 'til that last minute, often only a few ticks after 12:01 on Christmas morning? There are scores of us still sitting on the family room floor in the wee hours of the morning, paper strewn everywhere, three tape dispensers in various spots around us, packages in two locations-on one side of us, those we've already wrapped (in the last hour) and on the other side of us, the mountain of gifts still awaiting holiday dressing. Christmas music wafts through the air, as if we're happy to be slapping pieces of tape between two unmatched ends of a too-small piece of wrapping paper, desperately attempting to make it fit. Our Santa Claus nightgown is hiked up to our knees and if Santa were to walk in on us at this moment, he'd take away our membership in the Pretend-Santa club.
Step back for a moment, folks. Give yourself a break and allow yourself a few very deep breaths. Iron Man action figure many of our relatives are really going to nail us if that package looks just a little bit like a drunk elf decorated it? Even more, how many kids will care? Really. When my kids were little, most of their packages were wrapped in the Sunday comics . . . and on Christmas, it was the holiday Sunday 1969 Topps baseball cards Seriously. And guess what? They loved it-LOVED it!
And there was a bit of Erma in that practice. It made me feel something like a kid to use the comics. Playful. Fun. A wee bit on the silly side. I couldn't help but smile each time I pulled my ink-stained fingers away and looked at my literally comical works of art.
It all boils down to some really very simple ideology. Take the love and emotion of the holiday seriously. Do NOT take the hype serious. Make every single Christmas practice a playful one-draping the house in lights, decorating the tree, addressing Christmas cards, pulling the steamy, delicious-smelling cookies out of the oven. Even when you're deciding whether or not to go into battle with the other mothers at the toy store for the latest work of technology for your dear darling son . . . you must be at play. You must have fun.
There is no other way to do Christmas. If you're not having fun, folks, you're not doing it right. And if you're not sure, remember Erma. If you wake up Christmas morning and you're anything but happy and ready to roll down the stairs with all the other children, anything but ready to face the day with a smile on your face and giggly mischief in your heart, anything but anticipating all the joy of the full day of playtime ahead of you, playtime no matter what you'll be doing . . . that, my dear grown-up children, will be a very sad day indeed.
And Christmas should never be sad. We can be a kid again, if only for that one day.
El Jay Alexander, http://www.authorsden.com/lindajalexander enjoyed the entertainment scene of the 'seventies. After doing the hustle, watching the Mod Squad, and listening to the Monkees and the Herman's Hermits on her Duster's car radio, El Jay grew up to interview and write about the people who engaged her imagination . . . those entertainers. These days, she sometimes does the entertaining herself through her own writing. A good print company is essential for her business, and El Jay uses 123print.com. El Jay appreciates all the reprints, as long as this bio box is included.
