Peace On Earth

In the second half of the first decade of the new Millennium, there is a lot of crap going on. We’re a world at war – the kind with bombs and bullets and knives and hand grenades – and a clash between cultures not seen since a Millennium ago. We may be in the midst of global warming or global cooling but, either way, it’s bad for real estate prices, there’s anti-American sentiment around the world unless one gets to buy things priced by the dollar rather than the Pound or the Euro, and there is seemingly a rampant restlessness that has not been around since perhaps the Great Depression.

But for one slice in time this year, from December 15 for those who share Hanukkah, through December 25 for those who celebrate Christmas, until January 7 for my friends who observe the Orthodox Christmas, we forget about all the troubles on the outside. Instead we enter the homes of our family and friends with love and the warmth of human compassion. We share stories and gifts and, if I am really lucky this year (and the gifts are not based on prior behavior), I will be happy beyond the riches of avarice. Even if I don’t get the gifts I want and I get something completely useless, I will still have the gift of my lovely wife and adoring children by my side as they open their presents and get whatever it is their loving hearts desire, even though I won’t.

These kinds of nights always put me in a Christmas mood, and a giving mood at that. When I was a kid, I spent the evenings leading up to Christmas in Michigan’s wintry weather, transfixed by the colorful Christmas lights glowing against the powdery snow. In those moments of bliss, it was difficult to concentrate on the correct amounts of freezing water and small rocks to put in the snowball that was soon to be aimed at Mollie Barbachym for no other reason than I had a crush on her.

I often crawled between the presents under the Christmas tree and looked up to see the blinking lights and smell the fresh cut pine. There was the time I knocked the tree over but quick thinking allowed me to blame the cat. I don’t remember seeing that cat again but my presents didn’t vanish that year, I can report. Being a victim of circumstances like this can’t happen in the future because now we’re old and have a fake tree so no need to mistake the smell of plastic for pine.

So much of the holiday spirit comes from the traditions we establish as families. Since I was very young we have opened our presents on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas morning. This fine custom came about when I was about five years. My two brothers and I woke up at 4 a.m., certain that Santa had already left his loot. He had, in fact, displayed all the Christmas presents under the tree and we three brothers began to have the time of our lives playing with our new toys. I remember Peter got a Union uniform and I got a Confederate one despite the fact we both strongly sided with the Union. The buttons on the wool suit were a bit tricky so I sought help. I went to visit my parents who were soundly asleep. I figured they wouldn’t mind helping me out with the uniform that Santa had so carefully purchased, and it was now nearing 5 a.m. so they should have been getting up soon just to see what Santa had left. To my utter shock, my mother was quite unhappy that I had asked for help at that hour and she and my father bounded out of bed to see Bill asleep under the tree with chocolate smeared over his face and Peter stacking his new gifts on “his side” of the room. For some reason we were told the truth about Santa the next year and how he arrives in Michigan the night before and delivers his presents shortly after the dinner dishes are done.

Now that I have children of my own, Mrs. Laz and I decided to keep the same Christmas Eve tradition alive and open our presents in the flickering light of the Christmas tree. Mrs. Laz at first thought I had a hidden agenda in wanting to open the presents early, but I assured her it was better for all and we could avoid a similar shock that befell my parents. And if I got to open my presents at the same time as the kids, so be it. I probably could wait until morning if I tried really hard and we also got to choose a few presents and open them on Christmas Eve, but so far that hasn’t been necessary.

Another tradition in our family is equally as cute. My family enjoys wrapping my presents and giving me the chance to guess what they are. I admit I have an uncanny ability to figure out their carefully chosen gifts. At first there was frustration as I uncovered what their hard-earned money had provided, but after a while a good laugh was had by all. My skills have slipped a bit in this area of late and I have taken to using the crutch of going into their e-mails and looking for the online purchase receipts. It’s all in good fun and I am sure this is a story that will be told at my funeral – which will be a long time from now, or so I assume.

The holiday season can bring out greed in people too, so I’ve noticed. The Boy has a girlfriend who is rather Elf-like. She is short, happy all the time, drinks gallons of maple syrup and has smelly feet. However, she has a list of Christmas demands and one was for me to devote an entire post to her. I am a very, very, very busy person who can’t just drop everything out of my very, very, very busy day and devote 100 or 200 or even 300 words just to her, if for no other reason than I am so busy, especially these days as I am helping Mrs. Laz with the buying and wrapping of presents and all other assorted Christmas duties that are so numerous I don’t even remember them all. Anyway, I am far too busy to just write about The Ber – that’s his Elfy girlfriend’s name – and I think it’s a shame during the holiday season that she would expect this of me. And I am also so terribly busy right now as this post will attest. Which reminds me, I think the New Mexico Bowl is on right now and who doesn’t want to watch University of New Mexico match up against San Jose State? Good thing I have Tivo. Well, back to Ber. I can’t write an entire post on her but I have something that will sum her up all together. So CLICK HERE and you will get to know her as we know her. I hope the link doesn’t die out soon.

In truth, this season brings out the opportunity to escape all the problems in the world. It also links us with our past. How often do any of us trot out movies made 50 and 60 years ago like It’s A Wonderful Life or White Christmas and listen to the raspy voices of Nat King Cole and Burl Ives and the tender voice of Bing Crosby singing Christmas carols? These movies and songs tug us back to our childhood memories of opening presents with our family, some who are no longer with us and some who are new to our lives. The holiday spirit is alive in everyone and, in my faith, for just this one night, we come a little closer, smile together, hug a little longer and hope for the miracle of peace on Earth and good will toward all. Merry Christmas and happy holidays to everyone..