I would be lying if I told you I look forward to the holiday season, and I don’t like to lie. The problem is, I haven’t a clue what to buy for other people, and I certainly don’t know what they can buy for me, except for sour pickles. I like sour pickles. I actually like chocolate also, but I think I am getting far off the subject. Starting around Labor Day, I begin thinking of all the shopping I have to do for the holidays and, by Thanksgiving, I am breaking into a veritable sweat. All this shopping gives me nothing but agita.
For years, I blamed the department store owners of America. I truly believed they had conspired to make the holidays one big giant shopping spree. I could just imagine Mr. Macy talking to Mr. Bloomingdale: “Bloomie, there is only one way to increase our sales during the dark and cold days of winter. We need to make our customers associate the holidays with unlimited, unbridled shopping.”
I was listening to the radio the other day, and I realized how wrong I was to attribute all this shopping to the likes of Mr. Macy and Mr. Bloomingdale. There was some song playing called “We Three Kings of Orient Are.” For one thing, the title is grammatically incorrect, but in the spirit of Christmas, I will give the songwriter a pass.
In any case, this song tells the story of how three kings, wise men, or magi, were traveling across the desert bearing gifts for baby Jesus. Had the weather not been as clear, just a little cloudy, they would have ended up in Egypt or Jordan, and certainly far from Bethlehem, and so all this shopping thing would have been out the window.
I could not believe what these so-called wise men were bringing as gifts. Who brings a baby, a newborn baby at that, some Frankenstein? You don’t scare an infant with a monster. I really don’t know why they were called wise, but it was a different time.
And then they brought myrrh. I never even heard of myrrh. I bet if you went into a store and asked for some myrrh, they would kick you right out onto the street.
The Magi also brought some gold, and at over $1,200 an ounce, that’s more like it!
This Christmas carol, in my opinion, explains the very derivation of X-mas shopping, and why I (and millions like me) will be struggling in the stores these last few remaining shopping days.
Have a great holiday season, or Merry Christmas, if you prefer.