Until I met my wife, "the holidays" for me meant New Year's, and that somewhat misunderstood festival of lights for which there are multiple accepted spellings. My friends and relatives never really called to wish each other happy Chanukah. Though a friend one year did send a great card wishing me a "Happy ChakaKhan-aka" and featuring a fabulous pic of said '80s pop-funk diva.
My family always chose to place the onus of grand celebration not on Chanukah, but the non-secular and more easily scheduled Thanksgiving. We gather around the turkey instead of the menorah, and eat and drink instead of eat and drink and light candles and open presents.
I'm not alone. Christmas for us U.S. Jews has always been a slightly awkward time of wonder, envy, outsider-ness, and Chinese food. But eating fine Sichuan cuisine can also bring out the outsider in me, and — especially during the countless years I spent as a single guy during the holidays — it was not a stretch for me and those like me to feel as Brendan Behan famously said about critics, "like eunuchs at a harem."
And this despite the fact that until I married into Christmas, I was a real go-to Christmas Jew. That is, as sort of a reverse Shabbos Goy,
I was the guy all my celebrating friends would invite over on Christmas
Day in an attempt to make the festivities run a bit more smoothly among
their observant brethren.
Yet I did not even see It's a Wonderful Life in its entirety until I was well into my twenties. (And let me just say, that's some dark shit you Christian folks get all auld lang syne about.) Though I'm a big fan of some of the better Christmas tunes (though not as early as the local retailers like to start in with them), I'm not sure I could make it through all the words of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" on my own. And to this day, no one in my immediate family is partial to what I label the "Christmas spices": cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, and allspice, despite our love for food of all kinds.
The flip side for non-celebrants is that Christmas is pretty much the single best day of the year to go anywhere that's actually open. I've spent some excellent Christmases skiing, flying, and going to newly-released movies, all without crowds. It's exhausting to ski on Christmas day; it invariably involves long runs down the mountain and skiing directly onto the chairlift, all with barely a "Shalom" to those jumping on a few chairs ahead of you. Because on Christmas — while much of the god-fearing world is home opening presents, eating fruitcake, and drinking egg nog — there is no line and no waiting.
The reality nowadays is that I haven't done any Christmas skiing in years, I know It's a Wonderful Life better than most, and I've stood out in the middle of driving snow debating the finer points of various fir trees. Christmas, like Chanukah and Thanksgiving, is a part of my life — and one I look forward to each year. I've got no love for the egg nog. But the holidays have always been about family. And with marriage, I've gained another holiday and another family. And I love them both. "Merrrry Christmas, Bedford Falls."
Can you tell the difference between allspice and cloves with your eyes closed?
Posted by: fubk | January 04, 2009 at 07:30 PM