Holiday Portents

I love Christmas. Far more than your av-er-age atheist. Perhaps even an indecent amount by the standards of some unbelievers.

But why should the faithful have a monopoly on the solstice celebrate-a-thon?

It’s the halfway mark of the long dark night. From here on out, the sun will slowly return to us, making our days longer and more fruitful. An excellent excuse to gather with the ones we love, exude as much joy as we can manage, forgive a little more, and participate in all the traditions of our own personal history.

And I love all those traditions.

Stringing lights on a tree to emphasize light and life in the darkest, deadest moment of the season. Setting up an unreasonably complicated schedule to get ourselves around to all the family we possibly can. Acquiring all the gifts we can manage for those people, and presenting them in the most appealing way possible as a small physical symbol of personal sacrifices made for those we care about.

Hot chocolate. Christmas movies. Rich food. Aunt Mary’s eggnog. Drunkenly screaming outside the home of a factory owner until they let us in to raid their stores of food and wine.

You know, all the old Christmas traditions.

Lest you think me sarcastic or less-than-genuine, let me say it again: I love Christmas. Decorations go up right after Thanksgiving and stay up through the New Year. The soundtrack to A Charlie Brown Christmas will be played multiple times, because Vince Guaraldi was a god damn treasure and nothing says Christmas to me like hot jazz piano.

So, if you’re an unbeliever like me, and you find yourself wanting to humbug all over my season of Joy, maybe keep it to your damn self. I’m aware of the history of this particular holiday and many of its traditions, but I choose to love them anyway.

To any non-believers who struggle to find happiness amongst the orgy of warmth, cheer, and yes, more consumerism than necessary, I ask you: Does it matter why other people are celebrating? Can you really not celebrate with them for your own reasons?

Are you, in fact, allergic to a good time?