As of November first, Christmas is making its break. With the erection of the Christmas tree at The Grove (opening reception November 27th people!), all stores have joined in the song – hanging their glittering ornaments, shuffling the fake snow, lighting the trees, arranging the pines, and Santa’s house is being constructed as we speak – it’s apparently time to do some shopping.
So Christmas just dropped a load, and I think it’s a little early to be drunk on shiny objects and fake, well, everything (it is Los Angeles – no snow, no chilly nights for hot chocolate – we’re faking it the whole way through) and I’m feeling a wee nauseated. It gets harder each year to enjoy the jolly of Christmas spirit when it’s forced down my throat before the Turkey’s cooked. I look at the arranged pines, the lit trees, the fake snow and the dangling bulbs and think – you mean nothing to me – just a jagged set of commercialism and propaganda. That is, until December first. When that date rolls around, I’ll join in with the best of them, singing the carols, lighting my home, hanging my own fake pines (garland is expensive!) and begging my hubby to get the Christmas tree early (even though yes, it does dry out. We are terrible waterers). However, this year maybe it’ll be different. Thanks to the sagging economy and the hideous job loss, we’re looking at a stalemate. I imagine this Christmas will actually rouse more feeling for each other than for presents under the tree, and that is something to welcome. The true meaning of the holiday may not be lost after all.
NO SAINTS IN L.A. 
Leave a comment