But It's Christmas!

Nothing is more manipulatively catastrophic to a holiday situation than the use of the phrase, "It's Christmas." This phrase is often preceded by "but" or "don't you know?" and meant as a means or justification for why something should happen that wouldn't ordinarily happen during the other 11 months of the year.

It doesn't matter what it is either; it could be a guy breaking up with his girlfriend, or someone refusing to take out the household trash, you can bet that if it's happening in December, there is going to be someone nearby whining, "but, it's Christmas!" akin to the way in which someone might express how they are "not mad, just disappointed in you."

I can't remember when I first noticed this. It was probably during a movie, or at the Dippin Dots kiosk at the mall, or at my house growing up. Everyone was saying it.

Just like it's sister phrase "quit being a toolbag at Christmastime," this phrase knows no boundaries. It infiltrates family interactions everywhere, from the nicest, richest, put-togetherest, elitist of folk, to the meanest, poorest, disshoveledest, most egalitarian of society's underbelly.

We need to stop using this phrase as a justification for doing things that we would never do at any other time of the year -- unless, of course, we have intention to start living this way during these other times too. This sort of seasonal grace seems hypocritical. Just because there isn't someone from the North Pole keeping tabs on our behavior in July, doesn't mean that we aren't supposed to treat others with respect on Independence Day.

I think the main reason the phrase bothers me is the inherent superficiality of it -- the mortality of the attitude. The underlying context society has attached to this seasonal phrase replaces a necessary understanding and perception of how we can show mercy and care to others, all-year-round.

Don't get me wrong; despite its misdirected use, this phrase is definitely a step in the right direction. But more often than not, it seems to pop into people's heads around dawn on Black Friday, and disappear completely amidst the bulging wrapping paper-stuffed trash bags on the night of the 25th.

So maybe next time you're refusing to pick up your aging grandmother from the airport, about to fight a man to the death for the last parking space in G2 row 3, or debating whether to hand out Christmas bonuses to Clark Griswold, instead of mindlessly buying that same old line "but it's Christmas," realize that maybe this is really how we should be acting all year round -- not just when Santa has your 52" LCD tv on the chopping block.

A Grievance Observed

Sweat the Small Stuff is back... sort of.

For those unaware, Sweat the Small Stuff was the column I wrote for my college newspaper. The column did exactly what the title promised. And now, this blog, as nearly telling of its intentions in the title as my college column, promises to sweat and observe just as much, if not more. I'm also a lot less likely to be sued by Kevin James for producing a similar, text equivalent to his Comedy Central stand-up special "Sweat the Small Stuff."

I don't particularly know what this blog will look like yet. Maybe it won't be as much of a column as it will be a blog. Maybe it won't be as much a blog as it will be a perspective on life. Maybe it won't be as much a perspective on life as it will be me getting annoyed with stuff and posting it on the internet.

Regardless, it's starting, and right now, that's enough for me to... start.

About the Title
You have Google.... get crackin!