It all starts with the red cups at Starbucks. Next come the Christmas lights. Then there’s the earnest and guilt-inducing “happy holidays and God bless!” from our favorite ruddy-cheeked, open-palmed bums.
Harvard is situated in one of the most granola-eating, yoga-going, intellectually pretentious realms in the country (otherwise known as Cambridge), yet even the most hardcore Birkenstock devotee perpetually falls for the sneaky commercialization of Christmas.
I’m not the Grinch. I’m blond and generally pretty happy. I also get the whole Jesus thing, and think it’s okay that he gets a holiday. But is it really necessary to start blasting “Silent Night” while I’m literally still digesting Thanksgiving dinner? The little drummer boy needs to cool his jets at least until the first snowfall.
As much as I love Christmas itself, I don’t enjoy being bombarded with red and green cookies, socks, and coffee mugs while it’s still warm enough to wear a sweatshirt in place of a parka. With a wreath hanging on every single door in sight, it looks like Santa vomited his Christmas cookies all over Harvard Square.
This is where I’m going to drop the Jew card. As a half-Jew on the side that doesn’t really make me Jewish, I am deeply offended that ABP has no dreidle or Antiochus IV Epiphanes shaped cookies. I’ll die a happy Few (fake Jew) the day that I attend an Ugly Hanukkah Sweater party. Believe me, there are plenty of Jews out there with grotesque sweaters knitted by their Grandma Harriets and Aunt Ednas.
Let’s put down the fruitcake, step away from the mistletoe, and gain some perspective. If the Wal-Mart fiasco isn’t a wake-up call, I don’t know what is. Finding the perfect gift for a loved one can be satisfying, but I’m pretty sure that Jesus would have thought twice before trampling someone on his way to get a discounted Wii Fit.
Perhaps it’s comforting to know that Christmas traditions can survive through political and economic turmoil; in fact, every time you guzzle an eggnog-peppermint-gingerbread-pine-tree-flavored latte, commend yourself for remembering Jesus and the meaning of Christmas during these difficult, distracting times. That’s just what Starbucks wants you to do.
—Julia M. Spiro
