Today while watching commercials devoted entirely to Christmas shopping opportunnities, I was reminded of a German phrase my ex-girlfriend taught me: Esse morgens wie ein Kaiser, mittags wie ein König, abends wie ein Bettler! It's the same in English folk wisdom, that one should eat like a king in the morning, a prince in the afternoon and a pauper at night. I think this applies very much to the traditions and bizarre rituals we have set out over the past few hundred years concerning Christmas. When we're young we can't get enough, every song, ritual and decoration holds promise and heightens expectation and the resulting post-present crash is like a small death. Then we are teenagers and know everything, we jump on the notion of it being a sham and a hoax and pride ourselves in being detached and yet we participate, hiding the signs of our enjoyment. Then as adults, its the spare and simple pleasures that really bring us joy, and I think that is a healthy progression. Gluttony begets antipathy begets harmony.
What are we without our traditions? Are we cold and empty or just free to frolick according to our own myths?
No boxes no bows, no felt-footied clothes
or the 9-year old ninja
who prowls starry-eyed through the night
no shifting of boxes or cellophane lockses
just for a sliver of sight
of that thing, that circled object of lust,
now so much Hallmark, headache and dust.
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