Life Is Such A Sweet Insanity.

One of the important elements of Christmas that has been missing for us the last couple of years is the ability to relax and enjoy the holiday for what it is. The tinny tunes (yes I said ‘tinny’) always go on and on about the hustle and the bustle, but when you’re in a hustle and a bustle the entire year, one needs to find the opportunity to just sit down and relax a little bit.

Luckily, Earl and I found just what we needed for this Christmas holiday. We didn’t do much of anything during the day yesterday, save for me wrapping all the gifts I needed to wrap. I didn’t get worked up about having to do this chore and subsequently the presents looked rather presentable this morning under the tree. There were no wads of paper disguised as a convenient carrying handle on the gifts; boxes were wrapped in rectangles and I even took all the leftover scraps and made a clever looking wrapping for one of Earl’s presents. It didn’t look white trashy or anything.

Since Jamie was headed to his parents today, last night Earl, Jamie and I had our Christmas Eve dinner and as usual the husbear cooked quite a feast. Then we watched “Despicable Me” before calling it a night. We were quite relaxed when we hit the hay, but honestly who can sleep on Christmas Eve night? This morning we made our way through the presents this morning and there were quite a few surprises. In 1982 my sister and I were wide-eyed when we unwrapped our Atari 2600; this morning I as wide-eyed when I unwrapped myAtari 2600 and 10 classic games all contained inside a classically styled joystick. Other retro gifts included a turntable, so I can record my 12-inch singles into MP3 format. Jamie and Earl both enjoyed their gifts as well, then Earl made breakfast and Jamie was on his way to see his folks. Earl and I relaxed for a bit before heading up to a low-key Christmas celebration with the country side of my family. I enjoyed the visit very much and Earl and I took the long way home to admire the lights on homes as we made our way back through the countryside. Someone tried to kill us by running a stop sign and causing me to slam on the brakes and put the Jeep into a skid, but I was so relaxed that I was able to handle the ordeal without even so much as a curse or racing of the heart; one hand went to protect Earl and the other just controlled the skidding Jeep. Being relaxed helped me deal with it in an intelligent sort of way. So tonight Earl and I are now just bringing Christmas 2010 to an end in a quiet way. Phone calls have been made, messages have been exchanged and most importantly, love and good cheer has been shared. Sigh. Life is good. In fact, life is very good.

So last night Earl and I went out and did what I sincerely hope is the last of the holiday shopping experience of 2010. Naturally, we will probably shop like crazy after the holidays, because that’s what we do for our anniversary (our commitment ceremony anniversary is Sunday), but hopefully by then the Christmas carols playing over the speaker have come to an end and once again there will be nothing but an uptempo ditty designed to get your heart racing over the latest sale assaulting our ears.

Phew I write a lot of words in a sentence. I’ve come a long way since “See Jack run.”. But I digress.

Last night we went to the local Target. I hinted at stopping at K-mart but Earl gave me the “really?” look (in a butch way, Brett) so we opted for Target. The place was a bit of a madhouse. I will never understand why retailers don’t have all of their registers open at this time of yea, because if you’re not going to max out number of checkout lanes opened during the holiday rush, you’re never going to max them out and quite frankly that’s fiscally irresponsible. Plus it makes me cranky. Why buy register 16 if you’re not going to use it?

One of the things that bothers me a little bit about Target is the outdated practice of making you pay for electronics items in the electronics department. They have the technology to tie everything together inventory wise, in a database that was probably free. They also have the technology to make sirens go off, doors close and lights flash if you have something you haven’t paid for. They also have the technology to make your cart wheels lock up and refuse to turn if you go in an unauthorized area with said cart. Why then do I have to pay for an electronic gadget, the size of deck of cards, at the electronics counter? I had to stand behind a woman who was trying to buy a digital camera. She wanted to know if it had wi-fi for her cell phone and if it came with ink. I just wanted to buy the (insert electronic stocking stuffer here) and get on with my shopping excursion before I lost Earl, because he has a habit of running wildly through the store with a cart as soon as I get out of his sight. I can turn to pick up a bag of kitty litter off the shelf and go to turn back to put it in the cart and he’s gone off somewhere on the other side of the store like frozen foods or by the guns.

I don’t know if the woman found the ink for her camera.

One other thing I noticed is that today’s shopper has no idea on how to navigate the checkout lanes that are two deep. They are designed so you can progress through them without having to mingle with other lanes of waiting people.

Perhaps they need to put up gates.

I can finally say that I am feeling glimmers of the holiday spirit that we are suppose to feel this time of year. I wasn’t really feeling much of anything, outside of anger, because I was feeling too much stress. I was worried that I wasn’t going to find the right gift for loved ones, I didn’t really want to travel all over creation for 15 minute stops here and there,the thought of going to the mall depresses me and quite frankly I think I would have more fun shopping online if I had a credit card reader built into the keyboard and the website in question made a “ching-ching” noise when you clicked submit. Pavlovian response and all that.

My mood changed late last week and continued to improve through the weekend. I blame it on that awful show “Glee”, because as ridiculous as elements of the Christmas episode plot line were, there was still a healthy dose of good cheer in there.

Simplicity is what it’s about. In a world of flashing lights, blaring music, friends youve never met and bits and bytes of love, one has to remember that you can make this holiday season whatever you want it to be, and to me the answer was simplicity. Don’t try to dazzle Earl was an outrageous gift, give him something that you think he’ll truly enjoy. Sit on the sidelines and watch a group of friends travel across the state to be with one of their own, just to play some Wii, eat some food and laugh a lot. Go to the holiday party and chat with the cousins who have always loved you for who you are. Share some tears with loved ones just because the appreciate the words you wrote in their Christmas card. Simplicity. That’s what it’s about. And I’m feeling it; I’m simply feeling the holiday spirit.

At lunch time I often get an iced tea from the Dunkin’ Donuts closest to work. Like all fast food establishments, it’s a crap shoot as to who is going to open that sliding drive thru window. Sometimes it’s a raging bitch of a woman who’s been making the donuts since 0500, other times it’s a girl so stoned that she’ll hand you a puppy and think it’s a glass of iced tea, but from time to time there is a crusty ol’ gal that sounds like Suzanne Pleschette and calls me ‘hun’. She’s always got a smile on her face and one time when I was in the store I heard her say she had to leave on time to go to her other job. Working two jobs sucks, but shes there smiling and doing her thing.

Today she opened the drive thru window and I wished her a Happy Holidays and told her to keep the change from the order. The amount I gave her isn’t important. The genuine smile and the “thank you” said it all.

I simply shared some of the spirit I found. The simplicity of a smile.

It was 1990 and I was living in Jamestown, New York. I had just returned to Jamestown in September, having lived in greater Boston with a really cool tech-job for what was at the time the second largest computer company in the world. I had made some unfortunate choices thinking I would find something better with the move. There was also a strong element of me trying to hold on to some good feelings from my past with that move to Jamestown and while I don’t regret any choices I have made, I certainly wouldn’t dub that era a “shining moment” of my life.

I was working in the layaway department of the long-gone Hills Department Store. The folks found that I was really good at that sort of thing and were planning on adding me to the sound and video department of the store after the holidays. I was often called up front to run a register and always ended up on register 16, the express lane. It was on the end of the network loop so it ran the slowest. My speed and efficiency as a cashier apparently helped in this situation. I wore an off-purple vest.

It was Christmas Eve. I had no one special in my life. My parents lived 275 miles away. I was scheduled to work until the store closed at 1800. I wore a Santa hat for the occasion. Along with the little beard, the get up either made me look like a young Kris Kringle or a big elf. It was snowing like hell and the express lane was populated with men buying last minute gifts for their loved ones. Their faces indicated stress. I wanted to see my family.

The plan was to leave right after work and make the trek to my folks in time for church. We closed the store and I jumped on Route 60 with hopes of hitting the Thruway. Everyone was driving slowly and and foolishly and then a deer decided he was angry because he didn’t have “rein” before that which describes his species so he ran across Route 60 to get that beat Hyundai. I slammed on the brakes and slid to the right, barely missing a sign declaring I was at a Parking Area. I spun my tires and backed up and into the Parking Area and composed my thoughts.

I look skyward and speaking to whomever I thought was god at the time, I said “I just want to go home for Christmas. Once I do that, it’ll all be better.”

With that I continued my trek up to the Thruway and headed home in crazy snow for most of the trip. What should have taken four and a half hours extended to nearly six; I made to my folks just in time to go to the Methodist church in town for the candlelight Christmas Eve service. I remember thinking a loud “thank you” in my head for making it home safely.

That is when I truly felt the Christmas spirit and that carols and the lights and the candles and being with my family made me feel like it was all good. I can’t tell you what I got that year for a gift, save for a videotape of Madonna’s “Justify My Love” because I always remember dirty things, but shortly after that holiday I left Hills when I was hired full-time as a house manager for the local ARC. With that I found my path again and was able to make the move to where we live today.

It was in 1990 that I found my path and found myself back where I belonged. And it was the Christmas spirit that put me there.

So a while back I was doing the “inside work routine” thing at work, which involves walking at a high speed pace around what I refer to as the ‘racetrack’ since the it just goes around the outside of the middle of the building, which is square, and I was walking along minding my own business when I was walking by the ladies’ room. A woman was coming out of there and I looked away because I didn’t want to see anything that was going to make me blush. At least I tried to look away but I caught a quick glimpse in the door and was shocked at what I saw.

The ladies’ room has a lounge. I found this perplexing and when I mentioned it to my friend Sandy, she confirmed what I saw and added that they have a couple of chairs, a couch and a television in this little area of their rest room suite. This lounge is completely separate from the actual bathroom (a desire to call it a ‘relieving station’ came to mind and I have no idea why). The ladies can ‘rest’ in comfort with their favorite show and then kick back on the couch to recover from the whole ideal.

Wow.

Sandy asked about the men’s room, which I confirmed is one room with a small vestibule that contains an overflowing garbage can. The men’s room has “four standers and four sitters”. There is a telephone truck hazard cone in one of “the sitters”. Someone was generous enough to supply us with a can of Lysol air freshener and a stern note advising us not to drop bits of paper towel on the floor has been added to the decor. There is no air ventilation, no clock, no muzak and no ambience. It’s not horrible as far as men’s rooms go; the last place I worked at rarely had toilets that actually flushed and the men’s room was so small that you had to back into the stall to get a good seat, so I am quite grateful for the men’s room we have at work but why this disparity in rest room arrangements made me ponder a few things.

1. Do women actually enjoy socializing in the ladies’ room before or after their business? Once in a while one of the higher level management guys will continue a conference call on his cell phone whilst doing his other business and if you’re in there at the same time I guess it’s rude to do a little toot-toot serenade.

2. Why is there a television in the bathroom? There’s also a television in the cafeteria, which makes sense because people like to sit in there and watch tv whilst on their break and/or working on the big puzzle on one of the tables.

3. Why do the ladies get two rooms versus the one room (with hazard cone!) for the men?

Now I could get all high and mighty and start screaming about battles of sexes, inequality and become indignant about the whole thing but I really don’t want to. This isn’t a rant, it’s an observation.

I’m just going to sit down and ignore the conference call.

I know I have mentioned this during past holiday seasons, but I get really angry when I hear “My Favorite Things”, usually the recording by Barbra Streisand, presented as a Christmas tune. It’s not a Christmas tune. It’s a show tune. It’s sung during a thunderstorm in the cinematic presentation of “The Sound of Music”. Quite frankly, Julie Andrews sings it better than Barbra. It works during a thunderstorm but it does not work being blared into your ear by a low-fidelity PA speaker made by Dukane, said speaker being designed to bark out a price check for tampons.

I have been told that “My Favorite Things” is considered a Christmas tune because it talks about “brown paper packages tied up with string”. Where I come from that means porn. And even if it doesn’t mean porn, this would indicate to me that Christmas is about presents, gifts and gettin’ some loot under the tree. There’s that whole “snowflakes on noses” business going on but that could anytime in the winter and in the 42 years that I have been on this planet I can’t once name a circumstance where I saw “raindrops on roses” during the Christmas season.

For the love all that we purport is holy, please stop playing “My Favorite Things” and then claiming it’s a Christmas tune. It’s not a Christmas tune. It’s not even a generic holiday tune. It’s a show tune. And one to be sung during a scary thunderstorm, and only if you’re a nanny that’s been a nun.