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Tis The Season, But For What? (Part One)

By Timothy N. Stelly, Sr.
Jan. 17, 2007

Ogres, gargoyles, sorcerers, fairies, gremlins, trolls, elves, goblins, leprechauns, vampires, ghosts, unicorns, centaurs, werewolves, Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Frankenstein, the Easter Bunny, the Hamburglar, wicked witches, Martians, the Grinch, the Sand Man and the Grim Reaper. All are phony creations, but no worse than fortunetellers, radio psychologists, TV Evangelists, numerologists, Tarot card readers, palmists, phrenologists, astrologers and animal psychiatrists.

From the Brothers Grimm to United States Senators who think every other day ought to be a holiday; to these so-called "grown ups" who re-enact Civil War battles (the "adult" version of Dungeons and Dragons), Americans are firmly entrenched in their worship of b------t. This is especially true around the holidays, which in this country is approximately every five weeks or so. These are days that ought to be filled with more leisure time, but in turn, do just the opposite. (More on this in a few.)

In fact, the meaning of the word “holiday” is “holy day.” What Holy days do we have left? Here’s a hint--NONE. Christmas and Easter, supposedly Christian events originated to pay homage to Christ, are merely marketing opportunities for greedy Wall Street and Madison Avenue pimps and tricksters who are hell-bent on sucking everything out of your pockets, including the lint.

One place you won’t hear this holiday hogwash is in the ghettoes of America. Black folk just don’t seem to be into talking up Santa Claus. How absurd it would be for black parents to try and convince their children that some cat came through the `hood with a sleigh full of toys and survived. What’s more, no black father is going to put in all that overtime to bury his tree in presents, only to give credit to an overweight white guy who doesn’t exist.

The Easter Bunny and gold-hiding leprechauns, don’t stand a chance in the ‘hood. Better still, there are no tales of "Kunta, the Magic Kwanzaa Zebra" or, "the Martin Luther King Day Civil Rights Squirrel." Our perception of fact and fallacy are different. Part of that is due to environment.

Even more whack is the idea of an Easter Bunny. After all, children are taught that birds lay eggs. Now they're supposed to believe that during one week of the year, among the millions of bunnies on Earth, there is a chosen one who lays psychedelic eggs then hides them in people's yards? I was taught that Easter is a day that represents the resurrection of Jesus Christ. What does a bunny have to do with that? Was Jesus carrying his lucky rabbit's foot with him when he rose from the dead?

And let's not forget Groundhog's Day. How this fallacy came to be is beyond me, but I'm sure it started out with some large quantities of liquor and/or hallucinogenic drugs. Get this: An overweight rat, essentially that's all a groundhog is, pokes his head out of a hole in the ground, sees his shadow and this supposedly determines how long winter will last. You turn on the TV and see hundreds of so-called adults gathered in eager anticipation, of Punxatawney Phil’s arrival--as if Springsteen’s coming to town. By the way, there's a condition for people who name their fictional friends: dementia.

We also celebrate President's Day, that is the birthdays of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, and how do we do this? By having "White Sales." How ironic since both of these men had a lot to do with "Black Sales." One was a customer at slave auctions. The other sought to have slavery abolished lest the Union be torn apart. Furthermore, the only linen some white folks are interested in are bed sheets. They can be slept on or worn as clothing at those three a.m. "fireside chats" they seem to be so fond of.

New Year's day is merely the beginning of another 365-day cycle of the same ol’ same ol’. Another thing, you bring in the year by getting drunk and firing off guns. That ought to give you some idea as to how your year’s gonna go.

Holidays are nothing more than Madison Avenue run amok. Sales pitches designed to get you to spend your extra day off at the mall buying the overpriced merchandise of big business. Iceberg Slim never had game that strong. Case and point, Valentine's Day. Cupid's arrow hits the American consumer right in his wallet. Florists, greeting card manufacturer's and chocolate companies guilt trip you into "proving" your love for your sweetheart by purchasing their products. Whatever happened to surprising your mate with a bubble bath and an entire night of no-holds-barred (and cost-free) sex?

April Fools and Columbus Day should be one and the same. Here was a guy allegedly searching for India and he missed by half the Earth. This is like leaving from Oakland to San Francisco and winding up in Argentina. Now historians are blaming this maritime misadventure on the navigator, who was supposedly a black man. That’s another tall tale. How could a brotha in the fifteenth century have enough juice to get a gig like that? Hell, just thirty-five years ago we had to enact Civil Rights legislation just so brothas could become railroad porters!

Veteran's Day and Memorial Day should be combined and called Dead Folks' Day. No parades, no barbecues; just crying and getting liquored up. In fact, we can kill three birds with one stone and add St. Patrick's Day to the mix. Following this is the spring-summer quartet of Easter, Mother's day, Father's Day, and now get this: Grandparent's Day. The latter is another phony occasion spawned by corporate greed. Florists hit it big by selling you the same stuff that you can pick free off the side of the road. The only difference is, they gift wrap it and charge you fifty bucks.

Oh, I almost forgot—Grad’s Day. You know, the moment your child graduates high school, use to be a day of celebration for parents, because they knew the kid was moving the hell out. Let me say this: If your son or daughter’s graduation gets you that pumped up, you must not have expected much from him. Think about it, on that day there are millions of other kids doing the same thing! So what’s the big deal?

The problem is, Madison Avenue is turning every event--no matter how small--into a special day; meaning you’ll have to either go out and buy cards, food, rings, cars, flowers, candles, liquor, or special clothing for the occasion. It wouldn't surprise me to see us one day celebrating "Return From Prison Day,” when your pedophilic Uncle Herb gets out of San Quentin. Or what about “The End of Virginity Jubilee,” which would take place during "Birth Control Week." The florists, dildo makers, cork and inflatable doll manufacturers will reap big booty--no pun intended.

On the other hand, we have the most wonderful holiday of all in November. Thanksgiving. The premise behind this is rooted in such idealism that it should be celebrated twice a year. It's a marketing executives dream and creates a prime opportunity to bring the family together to break bread. Or as it is at most family gatherings, heads, hearts and spirits. This is a day that is better suited for Halloween decorations because the skeletons will definitely be coming out of the closet; and the distilled spirits will certainly aid in that. The ghosts of mistakes past will be unearthed, as people are goblin up food. Long hidden rumors and resentments will surface. Festering childhood hurts--real and imagined--will be unshackled...Talk about a haunted house.

My next column will sweep aside all phony sentiment and advertising pitches, and offer a few suggestions for making holidays more meaningful.

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About the author: Timothy N. Stelly, Sr. is a 46-year old poet, novelist and aspiring screenwriter who resides in northern California with his three youngest children--Lawrence, Kimberly and Dante. He is a member of various writer's groups and has three novels in print, his most recent, "Like A Straight-Up Sucka," is available at www.lulu.com.

website: http://stellbreadO@tripod.com



Email: stellbread@yahoo.com


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