Monomoyick

by Andrew Buckley 

Who’s Naughty And Who’s Nice?

            On the first of December I finished up a major writing and photography project.  It had consumed the better part of the past six months for me, and had taken longer than expected – partly because of technical issues (my computer is old and slow) and partly because of environmental conditions (it was raining or foggy when I needed it to be clear).  So when I raised my head up and finally had a chance to look around, it was the smack in the middle of the holiday season.  And it has never been so welcome.

            First off, Thanksgiving had just finished up, but I was still in a thankful mood.  I still had four weeks in which to get things together, coherently, for Christmas.  As typical of my gender, I will give thought to gifts for loved ones as early as the day before Christmas Eve.  But I’ll wait until the shopkeeper is walking to his front door with key in hand at 9 p.m. on the 24th before I relent and make a commitment to actually buy presents.

            This practice, more often than not, benefits local merchants.  After all, your store has to be within a few minutes’ drive of my house.  And open.  Otherwise, everyone on my list runs the danger of getting a pint of outboard motor oil, a pack of Camels and king-size Baby Ruth from Cumberland Farms.

            Also, the holidays mean I can’t really get started on anything new until after they’re over.  Instead, I can throw any leftover creativity into being in the spirit of things.  I don’t think I’ve ever had a tree, in the house, up and decorated all before the winter solstice.  Fake trees don’t count.  Nor do trees that were up due to lack of taking down from the previous year (I feel that any Christmas tree you eventually have to dust has lost any spiritual or cultural meaning, and is automatically demoted to simply furniture).

            Christmas CDs in the stereo – up.  Outside lights – up.  Big red ribbon with bells that plays “Sleigh Ride” whenever Sofie presses the button (meaning every chance she gets) by our front door -- up.  Video I took of Santa arriving at Chatham Fish Pier – uploaded on my YouTube channel.

            And I find myself, not one full week into December, with the luxury to contemplate the holidays.  Come to think of it, it is kind of funny that we have one holiday of giving thanks, followed by one of giving presents, and then finally one that is about new beginnings and making resolutions – clustered around the absolutely longest nights of the year.

            Quite a demonstration on what a lack of sunlight – or fear of the dark -- will do to the human mind.  It can actually get us to behave in ways that we wish we did the rest of the year.  Decently. Kindly. Generously. Maybe even nobly.

            Now I juxtapose this against the next upcoming event to grab our attention:  the presidential primary season.

            As we get closer and closer to the Iowa caucuses and New Hampshire primary, the behavior on display provides a striking contrast to the season we are now in.  So I’ll use the spirit of the holidays to judge the candidates.

            Whom would I want to invite over for Thanksgiving?  Whom would I expect to help clean up afterward?

            Who may put a sprig of holly on their lapel but wouldn’t hold the open the door to another shopper at a store that is having a blowout sale on a hot item?  Who thinks it’s all about the eggnog?  Who goes around with mistletoe taped to their forehead?  Who don’t I want to go to any trouble on an expensive present from because they’ve given enough throughout the year?  Who, when they walk in the house for Christmas, makes everyone – every single member of the extended family, including the dogs – genuinely smile?

            Who would ask – for the 20th year in a row, even though they know it is OK already – if they can come down to the house and watch the First Night fireworks over the Oyster Pond?  Whom would I trust, while waiting out on the deck for the show to start, to look after Sofie while I headed inside for forgotten pair of gloves – and trust not to pass her off to staff member?  Who would kiss their spouse at midnight, sincerely… and maybe out of public view.  Whom would I expect to answer, “Well, I’d rather not say.  It’s sort of personal,” to the question, “What’s your New Year’s resolution?”

            Who, on the Fourth of July of next year, is not going to forget that silent promise they made? (But might fess up to it by Labor Day?)

            Oh, it may sound like I’m not looking for a president as much as a buddy.  Hardly.  I’m simply using the spirit of the season as a test.  Sadly, Americans seem more interested in electing those with killer instincts than with any sort of integrity, which in turn leads to fewer and fewer people voting.  Kind of like the kid who throws a fit when they find coal in their stocking.

            Like Santa, I’m just an observer for now.  We’ll each get to decide who’s naughty and who’s nice, soon enough.

12/13/07