[Originally published in December 1990 or 1991 in Eastern Connecticut State University's Campus Lantern student newspaper and part of unpublished manuscript "In Mediocrity We Trust... In Debt We Die and other Essays]
I have just recently recovered from the trauma of Thanksgiving, or more cynically, 'Thanks-For-Nothing-Worth-Giving Day. Anyway, it seems that the Animals were right when they sang: "It's a hard world to get a break in. All the good things are taken..." At times it seems that there's less to show gratitude for every year. To make matters worse, Christmas decorations and sales go up the day after Thanks-For-Nothing-Worth-Giving Day. Sometimes even earlier. To add insult to injury, at least two Boston area radio stations play all Christmas music starting around Hallowe'en.
I lost the so-called Christmas Spirit eons ago. Even when I was once actually excited about Christmas, I was a Scrooge and I expect I will continue to be one far into the future. Come to think of it, I no longer even refer to Xmas as Christmas. On every gift and Xmas card I reluctantly buy or send I write Merry Stressmas." For me, it is a second annual tradition that will likely last until I die.
Stressmas season reminds one in oh so many ways that the only guarantees in life are misery and misfortune (Death and Taxes belong to both categories). Bills are just about due. Tuition tends to go up. My boss typically gives either nothing or worthless trinkets instead of an Xmas raise or bonus.
Just about any potential Xmas gift has an artificially inflated price-tag to add to other aggravations. It's also cold out and the car always seems to break down at the most inopportune times.
Holidays also give a cold reminder of the cruelties of fate since relatives are often what makes Stressmas (and other holidays) most stressful. Certain relatives I would give up up a substantial amount of my pay to never have met. Some of them continue to treat me like I'm eight years old to this day: "Wear a suit. Sit where we say. No TV. It's rude to look at the paper when all of your kin are together. Maybe we won't invite you back..." (What a dubious tragedy that would be!)
Certain relatives I have to deal with around the holidays are: an elderly spinster with a Marie Antoinette-like Superiority Complex, with no convenient guillotine in sight; and a loudmouth uncle who is darn lucky we don't all gang up on him and do him in. (to be cont'd)
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