Skip to main content

of Christmas present and past

The holidays now seem more cacophonous to me than ever. The hustle and bustle jangles against the nerves as the commercialism ramps up to a fever pitch. People frantically look for things their families and friends don't really need but that doesn't matter. One cannot show up empty handed.

My grown children will get money they will use more pragmatically than they ever have because their childhood is over. I marvel at their practicality as the three of us talk over the weekend coffee that they humor me with before going back to their lives. I don't tell them, but I still see those little versions of themselves gleefully opening presents on a Christmas morning; their mother and I both smiling ear to ear like Cheshire cats.

I am secretly glad that period of life is over as I no longer need to bask among the panicky holiday crowds. It allows me to sit back and remember when my parents (both young and healthy) indulged in that same age old ritual and beamed as we tore through our own wrapping paper.

To this day I am still uncertain as to who enjoyed that process more; them or us.



Comments

  1. I realize your post is not nearly this cynical, but your opening lament about the commercialization and consequent craziness of the holidays resonates with me like a string in tune, and . . . well . . . reminded me of the lyrics of Tom Lehrer's song, A Christmas CaroI:

    Christmas time is here, by golly,
    Disapproval would be folly,
    Deck the halls with hunks of holly,
    Fill the cup and don't say "when."

    Kill the turkeys, ducks and chickens,
    Mix the punch, drag out the dickens,
    Even though the prospect sickens,
    Brother, here we go again.

    On Christmas day you can't get sore,
    Your fellow man you must adore,
    There's time to rob him all the more
    The other three hundred and sixty-four.

    Relations, sparing no expense'll
    Send some useless old utensil,
    Or a matching pen and pencil.
    "just the thing I need! how nice!"

    It doesn't matter how sincere it
    Is, nor how heartfelt the spirit,
    Sentiment will not endear it,
    What's important is the price.

    Hark the herald tribune sings,
    Advertising wondrous things.

    God rest ye merry, merchants,
    May you make the yuletide pay.

    Angels we have heard on high
    Tell us to go out and buy!

    So let the raucous sleigh bells jingle,
    Hail our dear old friend Kris Kringle,
    Driving his reindeer across the sky.
    Don't stand underneath when they fly by.

    😛

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DtZR3lJobjw

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

One transgender woman's take on AGP

This entry from the transhealth website dates back to 2001 and it offers a very nice dissection of the now mostly debunked but still controversial AGP theory and how this transgender woman could care two cents about it. People who have been trying to marginalize the experience of gynephilic transwomen have pushed for the stigmatizing idea that they are actually perverted men. Well this soul, who couldn't give a hoot either way, isn't buying any of it and her frankness at times had me chuckling to myself as I read her posting. If we ever met I would give her a hug for seeing through the BS but mostly for being herself: "About a year ago I was reading on Dr. Anne Lawrence’s site about a new theory of the origin of trans called “autogynephilia.” This theory asserts that many trans women—and transsexual women in particular—desire reassignment surgery because they are eroticizing the feminization of their bodies. The first thing that struck me about it, of course, was t

Never Say Never....

 I was certain that I would never post here again and yet, here I am. It’s been several years, and life has changed me yet again. I have burrowed further into my psyche to discover more internal truths about myself all in the silence of a life lived with more periods of reflective solitude than ever before. After attempting for many years to be a problem solver for others, I needed to dig deeply to discover who I was, which should be a necessity for all people and an absolute imperative for those of us who dare rub against the grain of conventional society. The most important thing we can do for ourselves is honor the internal voice which has driven us since childhood. That whisper which we were compelled to ignore through our initial indoctrination must be listened to again for guidance. I knew I had spent too long heeding messaging that wasn’t working for me as a trans person, and it was time to stop. For the world gleefully basks in a level ignorance and hypocrisy we are not abl

my last post

This will be my last blog post. When I wrote recently that this blog had another seven years of life in it I was trying to convince myself that it was true. It was in fact a little bit of self delusion. With almost 3,000 posts to date I have accomplished what I set out to do which was to heal myself and in the process share some of the struggle I had been through with others on the chance they might find some value in my words. After seven years of writing, my life still isn't perfect; no one's is. But I have discovered a path forward completely free of the trappings which society would have had me adopt so I could fit in. Over the last 25 years of my life I have turned over every stone I could find while exploring this topic and in the process realized that we haven't even begun to scratch the surface of this deeply complex subject. What I have ultimately learned is that my instincts have more value than what someone who isn't gender dysphoric writes about me. We