And so it came to pass, as it does around this time every year, that the days were completed to deliver a Christmas column. This will have to do.
It's been a tumultuous year. From the opening salvo of pre-Olympic frenzy, to the months of great loss, to the light at the end of the tunnel, it's been a year when I've been overwhelmed with the feeling I can't really trust myself. The safe space in my head where I retreat to sort things out offers all the support of loose tapioca.
The first rule of writing is this: write what you know. If I put any faith in that rule, I'd have quit this job after the first dozen weeks. And right now, I'm in a Rumsfeldian vortex - don't know what I know, don't know what I don't know.
The first rule of being a columnist is this: being completely unqualified to offer an opinion on a subject is an insufficient reason to forego offering an opinion on said subject. I've never violated that rule.
Being completely unsure of myself and facing the daunting task of writing something vaguely Christmassy, I figured I needed some help. Who ya gonna call?
Away in a Manger
As any fool will tell you, Christmas is all about celebrating the birth of Jesus. If Away In a Manger and Oh Little Town of Bethlehem isn't enough to convince you of this simple fact, the word alone should suffice.
Christ·mas : December 25 th , widely celebrated as the birth of Jesus. From the Latin (Christ) being the nickname Jesus was given by his close friends + (Mass) being an almost incomprehensible Roman Catholic Eucharistic liturgy intoned in a dead language and designed to offer children their first real glimpse of eternity.
Still, doubts linger in an increasingly secular society. A recent poll conducted by USA Today found the birth of Jesus was mentioned by fewer people as the "True meaning of Christmas" than was, in order, getting presents, office parties, cookies and dropping a small fortune to decorate the house.
Using the power of modern technology I reached Jesus through www.channelthedead.com and put the question to him. For the sake of brevity, I'll abbreviate what was quite a lengthy correspondence.
Max: Happy Birthday, dude!
Jesus: Thanks.
Max: So, some people claim you weren't really born on Christmas. Any truth to that?
Jesus: You're born; you die. Maybe you're saved; maybe not. Up to you. What's important is what you do in between, isn't it?
Max: That's deep... I think. But let's face it, you're an important guy. Many would say the most important guy ever. Yet, we're not certain when you were born and we can't nail down your death - sorry, bad choice of words - we can't pinpoint the date of your death closer than the six-week period within which Easter generally falls. Doesn't that strike you as, well, odd?
Jesus: You either believe or you don't. My family never made much of a fuss about my birthday, falling as it did around Christmas; it just kind of got lost in the overall festivities. And to be completely honest, I'd pretty much lost track of time before I died. Those Roman guards weren't what you'd call an educated bunch. I doubt if they knew Thursday from Friday let alone March from April.
Max: Yeah, I see your point. But it must kind of cheese you off that so many people have lost sight of what the holiday's supposed to be about. I mean, let's face it, you're running well behind a new xBox on a lot of people's lists.
Jesus: C'est la vie. Historically, among the moneyed classes, it was always about gifts.
Max: You mean the three kings of Orientare.
Jesus: (sigh) Tell me you didn't say that.
Max: Sorry. Did you appreciate their gifts?
Jesus: I never really saw the gold. My folks said they put it aside for my college but I was more into the trades. I liked the frankincense but the myrrh stunk. It was enough to raise the dead.
Max: Tell me you didn't say that. Well, to close, do you have any parting thoughts on all the greedheads who've hijacked your birthday and turned it into a pre-bankruptcy festival?
Jesus: To hell with 'em.
Max: You kill me, dude.
Santa Claus is Coming to Town
Not entirely satisfied I'd channelled the true spirit of Christmas, I decided to explore the secular route. Reached at his North Pole workshop, Santa Claus was kind enough to take time out from his busy day to answer a few questions.
Max: Hi Santa.
Santa: Ho Ho Ho!
Max: Ho, ho back atcha. So Santa, most of the people I've asked have admitted that, in their heart of hearts, Christmas is really mostly about presents. How does that make you feel?
Santa: Overworked... and short of time. What do you want for Christmas?
Max: That's not really important. I only want a couple of minutes of your....
Santa: Okay, that'd be a new watch. Got it.
Max: No, you don't understand. I just want to talk to you for a couple of minutes.
Santa: And a cell phone. No problema. OK, what else?
Max: No, I don't want a cell phone. I just want to find the Meaning of Christmas.
Santa: Meaning of Christmas... here it is. Blu-ray or regular DVD?
Max: It's not a movie, Santa. It's a question. Do you think Christmas has become too commercial?
Santa: Which commercial did you see it on? Canadian Tire? The Future Shop?
Max: Okay, let's back up. In the rush to buy presents and not look cheap or lazy to friends and family, have people really lost the meaning of Christmas?
Santa: Well, if you're in that big a rush, gift certificates are always appreciated. If more people went that route, the elves and I could kick back a little more and enjoy the season ourselves.
Max: Nick, you're kind of pissin' me off here. It's really a simple question: is Christmas too commercial?
Santa: Hey, wait just a minute. You're not... let me see.... You weren't by any chance born in Iowa were you? Moved to Arizona at a young age, then New Mexico, Canada....
Max: Yeah.
Santa: This interview is over. You're on the permanent Naughty List. I'm not wasting time listening to you beg for presents. (Click)
White Christmas
Oh well. The question can never really be answered. But if it's of any importance - and a surprising number of people think it is - the various Santa Facebook pages are way more popular than the Put Christ Back in Christmas pages. I don't know what that means but for me, Christmas means going skiing.
Whatever it means to you, have a good one.
