As I write this I’m sitting in the first of the two cafes I habitually visit on a Sunday morning to catch up with any writing, RPG prep or other stuff I haven’t managed to deal with during the week. It’s a lovely cafe and I know most of the staff and regulars to talk to, and it’s located in a department store near the town in which I grew up. It’s also two weeks until Christmas day.
As a result of the proximity of today’s date to the anniversary of the birth of Jesus the sound system is cranked up to 10.5 and playing jolly Christmas music on a loop. I’m not so naive as to assume this is because the Management & Staff of this business are overcome with excitement for the season, and rather know that consumers in a Christmassy mood spend more per item on more purchases they don’t really need. It’s encouraging consumption and I get that. But dear heaven.
The tracks sound like they’re right out of some 1950s or early 1960s US sitcom with white-painted fences, girls in pigtails, women in aprons, and advertising-executive husbands returning from the office and stepping out of their Buicks with brightly wrapped packages under their arms. The voices are American, the delivery so bright and shiny you can almost see the beaming white smiles; this season is sponsored by Colgate – Gleaming teeth for Christmas and for everyday.
So much of Christmas seems to hinge on a nostalgia for better Christmasses in the past. The music (this music) is stuck in the Christmas of sentimental American movies, all snow and scarves and salvation army bands in New York city. Coca-Cola branded Santas remind us how many shopping days there are left, and don’t forget to stock up on a week’s worth of extra food for the one day that the shops are closed. Christmas is wonderful, it really is, but the most wonderful parts of it are being submerged behind business-driven weaponised nostalgia. “It can be as good as it was when you were a child,” the message broadcast from every electronic device, “If only you buy enough, spend enough, work hard enough.”
I’m lucky – blessed – that Christmas has always been, for me and mine, a time to spend with close family and a time to rest and recharge. We have lights and decorations and so on (“I have no need of inner shiny toys, these but the trappings and the show of joys”) but it’s never been the case that we judge the success of the season on things amassed, much less by ghosts of Christmas past.
Have a good one, however you choose to spend it and whatever it means to you.
Otherworlds 