The death of Christmas Growing up, Christmas was always my favorite holiday. What child doesn’t like being showered with presents, eating a large feast and visiting with family? Even after my initial shock at the age of 5 of my
The death of Christmas
Growing up, Christmas was always my favorite holiday. What child doesn’t like being showered with presents, eating a large feast and visiting with family?
Even after my initial shock at the age of 5 of my mother crudely telling that Santa Claus doesn’t exist, it didn’t damper my holiday cheer. (Parenting note: Blurting out “You know Santa Claus isn’t real, right?” to your daughter as she places a bag of apples in her neon orange toy shopping cart isn’t the smoothest way to burst the Santa Claus bubble).
As the years marched on, Christmas lost a lot of its luster.
Somewhere between Costco displaying faux Christmas trees in September and a man getting trampled to death during a Walmart Black Friday stampede, the magic of the holidays has been lost to a nonstop barrage of commercialism.
Rather than getting excited for the most wonderful time of the year, a wave of nausea has washed over me. The first wave was triggered on Thanksgiving. I could barely utter “Happy Thanksgiving” before people were peppering me with questions about my Black Friday ritual.
Was I going to camp out at Walmart? Did I think Kukui Grove Center would have the best deals? Do I want to cut my dinner short to dash off to Lihu‘e?
Instead, I opted to stay away from shopping centers. My only purchase was a ticket to our independently owned movie theater to watch “Hugo,” which I think trumps any mega-deal on an off-brand television.
As Cyber Monday descended upon us, news stories surfaced about the mayhem created by the shopping holiday. A woman pepper sprayed a customer for an Xbox 360, a man shot a shopper in a Walmart parking lot and others pushed and crawled their way to bargain deals.
With the month of November behind us, now we are being prepped to watch mediocre, made-for-television holiday movies while guzzling down a 31-ounce peppermint mocha.
Rather than focusing on the spirit of giving, I see that many focus on the spirit of getting. We are far from the age where togetherness and humility exemplify the meaning of Christmas.
Last year, I decided not to buy presents as my way of boycotting the commercialism of Christmas. While this decision was largely influenced by the fact that I don’t have money, I’m still passionate about not caving in to commercialism.
Instead of purchasing presents from mega stores, I’m opting to buy locally made products that aren’t likely to collect dust on my friends’ shelves.
That means Hawaiian salt for the cook in my life, a pair of concert tickets to my music-loving friend and a bottle of Nani Moon Mead for me, because no toy or electronic deal is worth pepper spraying someone over. Unless it’s 1987 and my parents want to buy me a Kayley Suzanna Cabbage Patch Kid.
• Andrea Frainier, lifestyle writer, can be reached at 245-3681, ext. 257 or afrainier@ thegardenisland.com.
