Merry Holidays

By Bob Cox

Tis the season to be...torn? Do we greet strangers with a smile and then say “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays”? For many Americans, the answer might be: who cares? While I was growing up in the 20^th Century version of the Wild West (the 60’s and 70’s in southern California), everyone greeted one another in the month of December with “Merry Christmas”. The way I felt about this expression was pretty simple back then: The spirit of the term had everything to do with celebrating the pure joy of the season and little to do with the acknowledgement of a specific religion.

When I was a kid, Christmas was by far the most exciting and joyous time of year. As a matter of fact, you could combine all the other holidays into one, stuff them in a giant box and gift wrap it with tender loving care and it still wouldn’t come close to the thrill of Christmas.

I just loved every little part of it, including the sound of joyous holiday songs, the minty sweet taste of an oversized candy cane, the fresh scent of pine needles in our wood paneled family room and the unbridled ecstasy of all the eye candy, especially the mass quantities of festively wrapped gifts stuffed under our enormously decked out Douglas Fir.

I even got a devious little thrill out of seeing the look of exasperation from my dad, as my mom, three sisters and I laid our new tree at his feet. To say that dad didn’t share our passion would be a gross understatement as he never failed to find a way to make Scrooge and the Grinch look more festive than Tiny Tim from The Christmas Carol, not that other Tiny Tim who tip toed through the tulips!

After a long, dark and chilly evening of spirited and thrilling tree hunting, my mom, my sisters and I would stuff the mighty green beast through the narrow front door, drag it laboriously across the thick olive colored shag carpet in our living room, leaving behind us a gloriously satisfying trail of moist pine needles and tiny twigs. Once we got to the family room, we would proudly prop up the 10 feet of majestic beauty beneath the eight foot cork-lined ceiling. Without uttering a word, dad would simply scowl, shake his head in bewilderment and head off to the garage to retrieve his trusty wooden handsaw.

Upon his return, it would be a festive serenade of swearing and sawing until dad’s contribution to the winter madness was complete and our tree stood tall, wide, proud and naked. From there, our 10 busy little hands handled the business of dressing our treasured new companion with bright lights, shiny bulbs, paper thin silver icicles and a white felt blanket where those brightly wrapped boxes would inevitably lie, quietly torturing and teasing my wild imagination until I was ready to burst.

Then, just when you couldn’t think a fat little doughball of a kid couldn’t get any more excited, think again. Whenever no one was around, I would quietly inspect, caress and then shake each and every one of the dozens upon dozens of presents every day until the big day finally arrived. And when it did, it was a noisy and rambunctious free for all, unlike anything you’ve ever seen, even at the busiest shopping malls at 4am on Black Friday! There was screaming, grabbing, clawing and biting aplenty. It sort of reminded me of a typical family dinner at home.

Now, back to the Great Merry Christmas vs. Happy Holidays Debate. What should you say? We could delve into a deeper and more philosophical conversation by acknowledging the growing diversity of our population and ask each person we meet what greeting they would prefer and honor the true spirit of the season, which includes trivial things like peace on earth, good will towards men and ensuring that every person of every faith and ethnic background feels respected and included. Or we could just split the difference and say Merry Holidays!