Lifestyle

Holiday letters? Fruitcake? Scary credit card bills? Bah, humbug

After a good deal of thought (my daughters would vehemently deny I’m capable of such a thing), I’ve elected to opt out of Christmas this year.

Yes, opt out.

No exhaustive and exhausting participation in the Christmas spirit.

No fear that the postman will drive up in an eighteen-wheeler to deliver my credit card bill.

I won’t have to beggar myself financially simply by acquiring gasoline before ever buying a present.

I won’t spend hours crafting an annual holiday letter which I stuff into greeting cards addressed by hand. I’m convinced that every religion on this planet recognizes writing a holiday letter as honorable penance for any number of grievous sins such as pride, sloth or lending money to relatives. Those of you who craft your own annual missive know full well that it gets promptly tossed when it reaches its recipient, who is a wonderful friend whom you haven’t seen or spoken to in thirty years.

Unfortunately, I will have to pretend to love Aunt Ruthie’s fruit cake smothered in giblet gravy and guacamole. She prepares the delightful concoctions decades in advance, much like the very finest wines. I think this year she will be handing out a 1975 vintage. It’ll be special.

One of the bad things, though, is that I won’t get to enjoy the heady rush of such wonderfully fulfilling things as wrapping presents.

Okay, okay, before anyone starts yelling, I do realize many of you enjoy the prospect of spending uncounted hours shopping for just the right paper. What scares me is folks who make their own ribbons. I’ve watched people do it. It looks very dangerous, using scissors and a couple thousand yards of ribbon to curl a perfect bow the size of a thimble.

Yup, I’m opting out. No second thoughts. Not even the uneasy feeling that I’ve finally reached the exalted status of Master Curmudgeon.

After a bit of soul-searching, I guess the other thing I’ll do is start working on the %$^&#@$ Christmas letter and begin thinking about presents for those special people who grace my life.

Grumble.

Loren Fairman, who is not related to the Grinch, is a freelance humor writer living in the Federal Way-Kent area.

We encourage an open exchange of ideas on this story's topic, but we ask you to follow our guidelines for respecting community standards. Personal attacks, inappropriate language, and off-topic comments may be removed, and comment privileges revoked, per our Terms of Use. Please see our FAQ if you have questions or concerns about using Facebook to comment.
blog comments powered by Disqus

Read the latest Green Edition

Browse the print edition page by page, including stories and ads.

Jul 18 edition online now. Browse the archives.