There's a nugget of truth in any joke.
This is a satirical presentation of a view I really hold. I'm taking the piss out of myself by suggesting that once the frenzy of present opening is over -- say, 11:45 -- then Christmas is over. Oh, you still get to lounge around the rest of the day in your pajamas, reading new books and exploring whatever new contraptions you opened. But that's just relaxation time. The thing I know as Christmas is effectively over.
(Of course, that's some version of a Christmas I had when I was growing up. Here in Australia, we go over to my wife's father's for Christmas lunch, which extended to 4:15 this year. So, not so much on the pajamas.)
What I mean to say, by way of making fun of myself, is that for me, Christmas is all about the anticipation of Christmas. All the rituals that precede Christmas are the things that represent Christmas to me, reaching their peak with that special magic of Christmas Eve. It's all downhill from there.
It's not that I'm no longer in a good mood or feeling happy for the rest of Christmas day. I've been lucky in my life to say that I've felt happy on most Christmases, even this one, when so much is wrong with the world. But even the feeling of satisfaction of a job well done -- my kids said this was the best Christmas ever -- doesn't measure up to the sweet anticipation.
Christmas movies are perhaps the prime example of this. Watching Christmas movies is designed to increase my holiday spirit. Sometimes they do (Jingle Jangle) and sometimes they don't (Fatman). But after Christmas Eve, they no longer even have the potential to serve that function of sweetening the hype that leads up to the day.
Well you'll be glad to know I'm not too old to change.
We had discussed watching The Christmas Chronicles either on Christmas Eve or Christmas night, even though that last was breaking my 11:45 rule. Now that's the original Christmas Chronicles, the one that we missed two years ago when it was new, not the sequel that has come out this year. But when we learned that my older son had already watched it, and he swore his little brother had too, we switched it up to Jingle Jangle on Christmas Eve. And if you read yesterday's post, you know how well that turned out. (Not to be vague: It turned out very well.)
So Christmas Chronicles was to get watched on Christmas, as Christmas Eve was acknowledged by the others to be the prime viewing slot, even if the others may not labor under my arbitrary viewing rules.
But with us not getting home from my father-in-law's until almost 5, we all needed some downtime, naps for the adults and video games for the kids. By the time we were getting our act together it was well past 7 and I made this unusual, and I think very enlightened, proposal to my wife:
"How about we watch Christmas Chronicles tomorrow afternoon?"
As in, Boxing Day. As in, really well and truly after Christmas is over, by anyone's definition. (Okay, not by North Americans' definition, as they were still in the tail end of it at that point.)
My wife's face lit up at the suggestion -- as much, I would guess, out of a genuine pleasure at my gesture of abandoning my own rigidness, as relief at not having to try to watch a movie that night.
Although I was perfectly happy to watch it, I did almost get out of it. We were again slow to assemble after today's afternoon quiet time and it was again after 7 p.m. Tonight I said to my wife: "I think the ship has sailed on Christmas Chronicles."
"No," she said. "We promised [the younger one]."
So watch it we did. I should say, start it we did. My older son watched the first half-hour, while we were eating dinner, then returned to his games; the younger one lasted an hour before succumbing to general exhaustion.
And you know what? Not only was I really enjoying it -- fun movie -- but I felt Christmasy enough while watching it as well.
So it doesn't matter that we'll watch the final 45 minutes on -- gasp! -- December 27th.
It's okay. Maybe Christmas is a state of mind, not just a date on a calendar.
No comments:
Post a Comment