I’ve had it with Christmas

By Drew Millard

That’s it. I’ve had it up to my eyeballs with this Christmas cheer. If I have to hear another version of “Silver Bells,” I might have to strangle myself with a bough of mistletoe. If I hear one more person wish me a Merry Christmas, I’m going to beat them with a roll of wrapping paper.
I’m sorry if that sounds overtly aggressive, but that’s only because it is. The crass commercialism that is Christmas has gotten to me lately for some reason, and I’m not sure why. You may remember that in a recent column, I wrote how I loved Christmas music, and the holiday season in general. I’m afraid to say that I might have reneged on that opinion. I guess that having to deal with the whole spirit of Christmas for two months instead of one has just kind of gotten to me. It’s become grating. Too much of a good thing, I guess.

The Christmas Spirit, in all its grandeur and glory, is dead, and it has been replaced by the Ghost of Christmas Commercialism. I guess I can best describe it in the context of the Family Christmas Movie. Every year, some formerly gigantic Hollywood star (read: Steve Martin) who used to have some sort of artistic integrity (Okay, maybe the word “integrity” isn’t right — just not the kind of star who you would think would be in a Christmas movie) stars in some sort of kid-friendly holiday flick that will inevitably make a hundred million dollars and will also inevitably stink. The Hollywood star has essentially sold his soul to the devil in exchange for the right to be the one who takes money from millions of parents this year. This year, the big stars are Danny DeVito and Tim Allen (for what seems like his eighth Christmas movie). Danny DeVito, the same man who directed Death to Smoochy — an R-rated movie about a children’s TV show host who decides to kill his replacement — is now starring in some movie called Deck the Halls, which is about Christmas lights or something. I have no idea, even though I saw the preview.

Let me put it this way. I, personally, am always looking for a reason to celebrate. If I had the power to make every week a different event, I would in a flash. But I would not dwell on whatever awesomeness I had created. I would not build it up for two months. Because Christmas day is always disappointing, isn’t it? Always a let-down. As a kid, your new bike never goes fast enough, the big toy is never as cool as it looks in the commercial, and you never get the pony that you wanted, and if you actually did get the pony, then that too is a disappointment, because you then have to muck out horse stalls until the day you die.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. I’m playing Santa for the kids at the hospital.

It’s all about Christmas

By Drew Millard

Some people say life is about love. Others say it’s about being content with who you are. A few coldhearted souls say life is about money.

But I have good news. All of those people who say those things are full of it. Life is about Christmas.

How do I know this? The day after Halloween, they officially started playing Christmas music on the radio.

Yes, it’s that time of the year, and it keeps coming sooner and sooner. Next year, you’ll be hearing “Silver Bells” just about when I head off to college. And I love it. Nothing shows more holiday spirit than playing Christmas music as soon as possible. Back when I was really really young, I can remember that holiday tunes were never really played until after Thanksgiving. Man, what a jip. I’m super-pumped that somebody decided that Christmas unequivocally superseded Thanksgiving, therefore giving it priority over all other holidays in the universe.

I adore the fact that Christmas music exists, because it (1) shows that people care enough about this holiday to make a soundtrack for it, which is always nice, and (2) forces my friends to listen to artists I like.

I am seventeen. I have delved into my mind many a time in search of material for this column, but I don’t think that I’ve ever told you that I — unlike many teenagers — like to listen to Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Nat King Cole. Well, I do. These men happen to have made some of the greatest music of all time—more importantly, they also have made some of the greatest Christmas music of all time. Ironically, my generation seems to acknowledge this group’s latter contribution to the musical lexicon, as opposed to the former. In plain English, that means that everybody listens to Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Nat King Cole during this time of year, but only their Christmas music. Right now my friends are listening to the artists I like, and they will cease on Dec. 26. Life goes on.

Christmas is clearly the greatest holiday in the universe. There are those who criticize it for fostering a spirit of commercialism and greed, but they’re missing the point. Christmas isn’t about that, just like life isn’t about love. It’s all about the music.