Another year is passing. The Patriot Act is now justifying body searches on nuns at the airport and privacy is all but gone in the name of security. On a good note, we did learn a good lesson from Viet Nam and we support our troops even if we disagree with the government. I love Mark Twain’s quote, “I support my country all of the time and my government when it deserves it.” The Island will be thinking of Lt. Thienert this Christmas and his ultimate sacrifice, and of the many other vets on the Island who paid their dues for freedom. Our world is changing so fast. Every ten minutes, there’s a new super-phone, another celebrity in rehab (who cares?). I miss Huntley and Brinkley News Hour, when the news was cogent and pertinent to all Americans, and not just cupcake sound bites of disasters all over the world with the latest embarrassing moments of famous people for icing. My small donation to accentuate the positive, is my annual Christmas column, revised and embellished of course. I hope it gives you a smile.
I believe there are people and things and ideas that don't belong to any one group, they belong to the world. Mother Theresa, Albert Einstein, Louis Pasteur, Monet, Judy Garland, all the great minds and great artists, belong to the world. The Pyramids, the Statue of Liberty, the Dome of the Rock, the Great Wall of China, the Wailing Wall are things that belong to the world. The Bhagavad-Gita, the Upanishads, the teachings of Buddha, the Torah and Talmud, the New Testament, the Koran, all belong to the world. Kwanzaa with it’s focus on family, Chanukah with it’s theme of rededication, Christmas with it’s message of hope, all belong to the world. And I believe, Santa Claus, the person and the idea, belongs to the world too.
We learn about Santa as kids. Someone who loves us and brings a present. We grow up a little and figure out the Santa conspiracy. As teens, we denounce our precious childhood belief. We become “cool” and pretty much know everything by the time we're twenty. It's beyond comprehension to us how our dumb relatives can lead such screwed up lives. We'll never repeat the mistakes of our parents.
Through our twenties, we shun our families. We don't need Santa, families, or the whole holiday mishmosh. We have our friends who think like us, we are all-knowing, but time will take care of that...
We spend our thirties correcting all the mistakes we made in our twenties when we knew so much more. We are married with children and suddenly we hear our mother's words coming out of our mouths. We worry alot because there is too much month left at the end of the money.
Our forties are great, aside from the fact that body parts start heading south, you know you have all of what you need and much of what you want. You realize that money ebbs and flows in life. Money only increases options. Chicken served on a paper plate tastes as good as chicken served on a golden one. And money doesn't insulate anyone from pain, loneliness or despair. Possessions become just “things”, and things come and go.
What's really important is time. The days are longer and the years are shorter now. You can never have one minute of your life back, ever. Suddenly, there's not always a "next time". You might as well do what you like while it’s still legal. You drink better wine, and use the good crystal glasses to boot.
Finally you realize that your own opinion is what matters most. Is it really going to matter in a hundred years what someone else thought of anything you did ? Nope. You've matured enough to know that you're not better than anyone else, but damn if you ain't just as good.
You rediscover your family. And what annoyed us before, now just amuses us. The fact that Aunt Ida still uses that cracked, chipped teapot she got in Arizona on her honeymoon in 1942, doesn't bother you at all. You respect the sentimental value of things.
Families and holidaze become important again. By now Santa has made a dramatic comeback in your life and you meet him again for the very first time, and he’s even grander than you remember. He doesn't dye his hair. He stays married to a woman who’s the same age he is. He's fat and wears red, so you can’t miss him. He loves his job. He decides to be happy even though he faces a long night freezing his jingle bells off in an open sleigh. He’s not impressed with technology, he's keeping the sleigh and his way of doing things. You find you need Santa more as an adult than you ever did as a child. You've seen enough tragedies and not enough miracles. But Santa is an annual miracle you can depend on. Santa lets us pause and reconnect with all our Christmas' past.
As soon as we hear Bing Crosby sing "White Christmas", we hear the sound of our own back door, the smell of our own pillow, echoes of our parent's voices. We’d give anything to be six once more and bound down the stairs on Christmas morning and see our disheveled parents in rumpled robes sitting on the couch watching us through a flurry of flying ribbons and paper.
Santa can’t bring you a car repair, or a mortgage payment in a sack down a chimney. You always need things like that. What he brings now is hope and joy. Hot chocolate with marshmallows while you watch Miracle on 34th Street or White Christmas, is a wonderful vacation back to what seems to have been a simpler time when kindness had a higher value.
And as for me, I no longer need Santa's presents, but God above, how I still need his presence...Happy Holidays to you all and God Bless Us, Everyone!
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