Giving Thanks

It is a tradition that is held in many various forms around the world. Thanksgiving is a time of year when Americans gather around a table with their families to reflect on the things in life that they are grateful for. It is a time of introspection and reflection, and a time to be with friends and family.

To some, it is one of the times of the year that Americans fly across the country to be with people that they don’t even like to talk to on the phone all that often. They gather around a smorgasbord that outweighs the collective group at the table, to eat more food than is reasonably healthy. They hold their hands, and bow their heads to pray to a god that they don’t believe in to thank him for things that they put absolutely no thought into.

Regardless of your religious beliefs, whether you thank Jesus, Buddha, Yahweh, or a Golden Calf, I believe that spiritual figures give points for originality. Every time I think about the “pregame prayer”, as I like to call it, I imagine how bored god must get listening to the same drivel, over and over again.

In my head, he is sitting at his desk, floating above the clouds. There is a nameplate in the front that says “Big Guy” on it. Angels are scurrying about with headsets and PDA’s like busy stockbrokers, this is a modern heaven, after all. God’s administrative assistant, Stacy, walks in with a report.

“Sir, the last of the day’s prayers just came in.”

God puts his conference call on hold, “Ok Stacy, what do we have? Anything new?”

“Well sir, it looks like more of the same as every other year.”

“Give me the numbers Stacy.”

“Well sir, it looks like at least 248 million Americans would like to thank you for the meal they are about to receive. 230 million want to thank you for the roofs over their heads and the clothing on their backs. 266 million thank you for their kin, brothers, sisters, parents and the like.”

“Any weird ones?” God asks, accustomed to the outliers that occasionally pop up.

“Well, at least a couple hundred thousand want to thank you for being paroled this year.”

“Hmm… The number was higher last year.” God’s brow furrows.” Can’t these people be more creative?”

“What do you think we should do sir?” Stacy is concerned.

“Stacy, send out a memo. We’ll make the place cold and windy for the next few months; maybe drop some snow on their heads. Hopefully after that they will at least be thankful for summer.”

“Yes sir.”

The meal is over and I am watching football. Nearly comatose, I sit down on a recliner and think about the things that I couldn’t get along without. My family members are trying to talk to me, but I developed the ability to drown them out with my thoughts years ago. Halftime finally starts, and it gives me a few minutes to have a little one-on-one time with the “Big Guy.” I close my eyes and pray.

“God?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s me, Jake.”

“Yeah, thanks, I got that…” Sarcasm is oozing out of every word.

“I just thought that I would thank you personally for a few things.”

“Is this gonna be like the rest of them? Did you actually put some thought into this?”

“Yes, I put some thought into it, but I have to warn you, this might be, well… a little unorthodox.”

“As long as it’s not the same old food, roof, family thing that everyone keeps spitting out, I’ll be fine with it.”

“I want to thank you for caffeine and sugar, which make it possible to stay awake and alert long enough to get through work and school. I want to thank you for sleeping pills that counteract the caffeine and sugar long enough to get a few hours of sleep. I want to thank you for caller ID and text messaging, which allow me to ignore people’s calls when I’m stressed and don’t want to talk to anyone. Thanks for not allowing me to snap like a twig, even though I have been a little burned out lately. Thanks for all the little things that get me through the day.”

God smiles, amused. “Is there anything else?”

“Well you know, family and friends. I guess they are kind of important.”

“No food or roof talk?”

“Those are gifts I give myself.”

“Agreed.”

I am about to open my eyes to watch the rest of the halftime show, and I remembered one more thing.

“Oh yeah, that dream that I had a few months ago…”

“What about it?”

“I want to thank you for that, too!”

I opened my eyes to rejoin the halftime festivities, already in progress. I turned to see my entire family asleep in the living room, so I sneaked out to get a little time at home to myself. Interestingly enough, although it has been snowing and cold all week, I have yet to see a snowflake hit my car or frost cover my windshield.

The Spirit of the Season (Pt.1)

I hate Christmas.

Ok, I take it back, I don’t necessarily hate Christmas, but the ‘Holiday Season’ as a whole makes me want to hang myself. Call me what you will, but I think a lot of us have lost the spirit of the holidays.

I remember when it was good enough to have the occasional Christmas carol in a department store a couple of weeks before the big day came along. I remember when the ‘Season’ didn’t start until after Thanksgiving, and not right before Halloween. I can remember, not so long ago, when saying ‘Merry Christmas’ was considered a nice thing to say, and not as offensive as a racial epithet. I remember when Christmas wasn’t a bad word.

I love Christmas morning. I enjoy being with the ones I love, sharing gifts, stories, and meals in a dimly lit living room under the glow of the Christmas tree. I love the look on my brother’s faces when they open a gift that they really wanted, and they were sure that they weren’t going to get. There is nothing like being with good friends and family on Christmas.

It’s the month BEFORE the day that drives me nuts.

Every single year since the e-business boom, I have sworn to myself that I was going to start doing all of my shopping online six weeks before Christmas so that I can have everything in and wrapped two weeks out. Every single year, I end up doing none of my shopping online, and taking so long to decide what I am going to buy people, my shopping never gets finished until a couple of days before the 25th.

I have spent so much time in department stores over the past couple weeks that I am seriously considering starting my shopping for next year online in January. I have only a finite amount of patience left for the big box stores. The places I have been to have become so crowded recently that you can’t get past someone without smelling the Caesar salad they had for lunch. People seem as if they are standing in aisles, waiting from instructions from a higher power. I swear sometimes, I just want to drop my shoulder like a full back and run them the hell over.

There is only so much I can take. At work, on the radio, in the mall, and the department stores all I hear are Christmas carols. It is nice to hear once and a while, but just like any music, when it is browbeaten into me it makes me want to scream. If you play some of the songs backwards, I am pretty sure you can hear ‘buy more crap, buy more crap!’ being said over and over again. I wouldn’t even mind if the carols were traditional, sung by traditional artists with talent, like Bing Crosby, or Nat King Cole. But if I hear the rap version of ‘Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire’ again, I am going to start carrying earplugs with me to the mall.

People are savages when it comes to getting the perfect gift. They tend to be a bit more cordial and civil when it comes to gifts for adults, but if the gift is for a child, they become Neanderthals, willing to fight to the death. A few weeks ago, two grown men were arrested after an altercation waiting in line to purchase XBOX 360’s. Just the other day, I was witness to two rather rational-looking adults in a shouting match at my local Target for the last ‘whatever doll is popular this year’. They each seemed to be holding on to the doll like two opposing centers, trying to pry a basketball out of the others hands. I looked at them and imagined the victor watching their daughter opening the gift, and then realizing that she finds the box more interesting than the doll they fought for. I think of the kind of example they set for their children when they are at home.

There is no better example of what frustrates me than the people at Wal-Mart. The fellow customers I have run into are some of the most rude, self-involved, inconsiderate people I have ever met. I have a practice of looking at most of my shopping as linear. I get what I am looking for, I purchase it, and I get out. A great deal of people, especially at Wal-Mart, don’t realize that there are a great deal of people like me. It doesn’t bother me that people like to browse, that’s absolutely fine with me. But for the love of God, stop staring from the middle of the aisles where everyone walks. Some people are just oblivious to the fact that other people exist.

I can’t wait until Christmas Eve. I can’t wait to sit down by the fire with my family and my girlfriend and relax for the first time in a month, no longer worrying about what present I am going to get whom, and wanting to do my shopping at 3 A.M. to avoid the crowds. But most of all, I can’t wait for Christmas Eve so I can sit down by the fire with my family and girlfriend, just to enjoy their company.

Until then, if you are at a store and you hear Jack Johnson playing softly, and rattling coming your way, turn to me and wave. I won’t be able to hear you with the earphones and the Tylenol I keep in my pocket for the ‘Holiday Season Headaches’ I get might be kicking in. Try not to take it personal if I don’t say ‘hi’ or stop to chat, it’s not you, it’s just the spirit of the season.