putting the mess back in christmas

Christians celebrating the birth of Jesus every December 25—I understand this.

Ancient Babylonians celebrating the son of Isis every December 25—okay by me.

Modern Americans who never go to church, moving mountains to celebrate Christmas—this utterly baffles me. There's complete disconnect. Even avowed atheists feel obliged to suffer the commercialism, the imposition, the expense, the travel, the guilt-laying families. Why?

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I'll forever remember this Christmas as the one I don't much remember. Miserable, flat on my back, medicated, watching the Mythbusters marathon. Ho.

It's in my top 10 Christmases ever.

There've been a few good ones, invariably with girlfriends. I can't remember a family Christmas that was short of a bloodletting. Knifing one another around the holidays is a fine family tradition. We save up bile just for the occasion. Striking early and hard becomes a mission. Whoever cries first loses, as all the other sharks will join the feeding frenzy, so your Yuletide priority is to make someone else cry first. Several someones, if you want to win Christmas.

I've joined a few girlfriends' families for the holidays over the years, and I'm utterly inept. I sit there on the couch, cup of nog in hand, nervously awaiting an attack that will never come. And oh, my twitching, witty repartee. "Oh w-w-wow! A frosty mug! You put it in the freezer and then put your drink in it, right? Ha, ha! That's awesome! Ha, ha! How clever. How did you know I wanted this? Needed, really. It's really just the perfect gift. Really. Perfect. I-i-it means a lot, how much thought you put into this."

I get elbowed a lot on Christmas.