"Those who can, do. Those who can’t, bitch about it on the Internet." -Simon, from The Book of Simon
Some bios list credentials, such as: Education BFA in Illustration, Massachusetts College of Art Occupation Former Production Slave, Ballantine Books Comics Credits Columnist, Writer, Artist, Editor Etc…
And some bios tell a story, such as: I can remember sitting in front of my television one morning, watching the old Batman show, when Julie Newmar appeared in that skintight black leather outfit as Catwoman. It was my first boy/girl thing. >A year later I was in kindergarten telling Katherine Burke that I loved her. It’s pretty much been a string of stupid mistakes ever since…
Still other bios state an intent, such as: This is a series of essays illustrating the life of one particular struggling artist as he plods through the world and occasionally bumps into some interesting shit.
But most bios just sit to the right of the column and are never looked at. So ignore this space and just read the damn column already…
We’re just a few days away from my favorite holiday of the year. It’s the one time every twelve months when I try my hardest to forget all the bad shit going on around me and just keep in good spirits. Sometimes it works and I get about a month of happiness. Other times I’m not so successful. But at least I try to pull off the Scrooge mask every December and lighten up a bit. Of course, there are always those bastards who feel the opposite and decide to become even worse around the Yuletide. All I ask is one holiday without bullshit. Instead I’m faced with the ongoing battle cry of those who can’t find the Christmas spirit. Their argument is always the same.
It’s Run By A Big Eastern Syndicate, You Know A few weeks ago Watts was telling me how a girl I used to work with suggested to the others in the Ballantine Production department that they do Secret Santa. Now, I’m not the biggest fan of Secret Santa, I’d rather save my money for the people I actually want to buy gifts for, but I go along with it. It’s just a simple little way for people to bring a bit of the Season of Giving to work with them. And I do like to give.
Quickly the jackasses chimed in. "I don’t celebrate your Capitalist holiday." Let me tell ya, if there is one way to get my blood boiling… Watts was upset about something that day, I think it was about an e-mail I’d told her about from one of my readers giving me shit. Once I heard the Capitalist Holiday remark all other annoyances disappeared. I can’t stand it when people come in with that noise. One person managed to ruin Secret Santa for the entire department.
A few Christmases ago I was living in the suburbs of Massachusetts, hating having returned to my hometown. The only upside was living with my best friend from high school. Eventually our situation as roommates would go downhill, partly because of his continually negative attitude. I’d known the guy for years and managed to deal with it. But once Christmas rolled around I think that’s where I stopped tolerating his misery.
I wanted to get a tree. His response? "What do we need a tree for? To celebrate a Capitalist holiday?" This guy was the original Scrooge. I thought it would be a cool roommate thing to do, go out, get a tree, throw it in the back of his car. But noooo, we couldn’t put it in the back of his Subaru because he didn’t want pine needles in his ass when he was having sex in there. Now, never mind that this is a twenty-three year old man who prefers to have sex in his car (because it’s the closest he can get to actually having sex with his car). The fact is, he hadn’t had sex in over three years and there weren’t any possibilities on the horizon. But the Christmas tree got the kibosh because he’s an obsessive freak.
The Most Wonderful Time of The Year Still, even more than not wanting a tree (which I went out bought anyway), it was his ongoing remarks about the rampant Capitalism of Christmas that bugged me most. And the thing is, Christmas isn’t necessarily just about Capitalism. Sure, it can be if you want it. For people who give priority to materialism and apparent status then I’m sure the size, expense, and luster of gifts is how they rank the success of the day. But it’s only that way if you want it to be. What’s that old saying, "It’s the thought that counts." That’s what Christmas could be about. And that doesn’t even mean presents. This is the time of year to go around seeing your friends, people you haven’t seen in maybe a long time. Going out of your way to see someone you haven’t talked to in years, it’s the thought of that that counts.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I like presents just as much as the next person. Getting them is pretty good. But what I really love is giving them. And for me it doesn’t have to be much. Last Friday I threw a Christmas party at my apartment for a small group of friends. As party favors I prepared a small stocking for each person, containing three candy canes, some chocolates, and an ornament I bought at the drug store. Total value of each stocking, maybe four dollars. Not much, but I would hope it was enough for the people attending the party to know I thought enough of them to put those stockings together.
Yes, Christmas is over-commercialized. That’s part of the charm of the holiday. I love walking the streets of New York, seeing all the window displays made up with fake snow and cardboard chimneys, all designed to try and tempt me into buying a cologne I’d never wear or a scarf I think is ugly. I don’t fixate on the products. I look at the display and enjoy it for what it can be, just decoration. Christmas has an aesthetic that I love and I try not to let the act of selling get in the way of taking pleasure in the whole world covered in red, green, tinsel, and garland. Just because someone is trying to sell you something doesn’t mean you have to buy it.
December first marked three years since the last time I spoke to my father. Just after the New Year will mark two since I’ve seen my mother. My novel has gone from something on the verge of being published to just another stack of papers in my bedroom. I have no job and no money. I’m three months late on the rent and facing possible eviction. And yet, I still have it a lot better than some people. Sure, it gets to me every so often and I find myself feeling maudlin. But I’m still trying to enjoy the Christmas spirit and keep myself happy for at least another week or so. I’m not worrying about having to spend a certain amount or having the right kind of ornaments for my tree. During the week I watch every Christmas-related special I can find on television. On the weekends I’m bouncing around from party to party, seeing old friends and making new ones.
I’m a broke Agnostic. For me, Christmas isn’t about money or god. It may sound sappy, but there are things that mean a lot more, and this holiday could be about reminding ourselves that…if we could just stop bitching for a minute.
From The Monkey House a/k/a Simon Holly Jolly
The Random: I’ll admit it, I’ve watched every one of VH1’s I Love The 80s specials so far, and I aim to see the rest of them over the next two days. Sometimes I too can be a tool for nostalgia.
