When I was much younger, Christmas was certainly magical. I definitely bought into Santa, and his myriad arcane powers. In fact, my belief was a little too strong. As my mother found out shortly after I was able to talk (and write lists), I had no guilt feelings whatsoever about asking for the biggest shiniest thing on the shelf. After all, since Santa was bringing it, mum’s checkbook simply was not a factor to be considered. Thankfully I’m not a parent, so I haven’t yet had to deal with that careful dance between magical elf-created Playstation consoles and crushing reality (It must have been easier fifty years ago when more toys were things like wooden trains. Santa can apparently make iPods now, and his elves work out of a sweatshop in Beijing).

Anyway, my firm belief in Santa’s omnipotence changed one memorable night. My parents were out for the evening, and I was being babysat. Having got it into my head that the babysitter REALLY, REALLY wanted to play a board game with a brat who just wouldn’t go to bed at a decent hour, I rummaged through various closets and cupboards. I remember being intent on my mission, pushing various parcels and boxes out of the way before I finally noticed something was amiss. They were gift wrapped. They had labels. Labels marked as for me! But in the place on the label marked ‘From’ it didn’t say ‘Mum and Dad’. Instead, the dreaded words FROM SANTA. But.. it wasn’t Christmas yet! While I don’t remember the babysitter’s name or anything about them for some reason, I still remember the crushing looming realization that everything was not as I thought it was. I remember saying ‘Oh…’ in a very quiet voice and carefully putting things back and closing the cupboard almost like I was closing the door on a chunk of my world. I suppose it would be the equivalent of a fervent Intelligent Design advocate looking at Paris Hilton and finally realizing there’s just no way some intelligence produced that - or if it did, it was a diabolical joke on the rest of mankind.

With that heartbreaking tale out of the way, I feel it is important to note that this did not in any way prevent me from enjoying the toys with their bogus labels. I was an extremely mercenary little brat. More stuff may be tainted with the fake-Santa label, but it was still Stuff. And Stuff is good. I don’t remember if my demands got less intricate after this new de-mystified Christmas; I do remember still poring over gift catalogs for hours on end, so I don’t think so, at least in terms of providing a large list of things. While I knew I wouldn’t get everything, the cardinal rule was you ask for a lot and bargain down - handy skills to craft at whatever age.

When do you know that you’re finally grown up? I think Christmas is one of those holidays that mark that shift from ‘fun’ to ‘socks’. When you get socks (or a tie, or aftershave, or strange perfume, or an obscure kitchen ‘time saving appliance’ like an apple core recycling juicemaker) then welcome! You are now an adult. You will never again wake up breathless on Christmas morning wondering what Santa gave you, though you may wake up breathless in mid January when the mailman brings the Visa bill. Somehow, it’s just not the same kind of magic.

However you spend your holiday season, I hope it’s a happy and safe one. And you don’t get too many pairs of socks.

If there was Intelligent Design responsible for Paris Hilton, she'd be mute.

Possible topic for next week: transit strike? Then again...is anyone going to argue in favor of those bastards helping to ruin the holiday season of 10 million people? I'd like to see the union officials do jail time. What's $1 million a day to them? It's not coming out of their bank accounts! anyhoo...sorry to hijack your blog :)

Happy ChristmaKwanzaRamadaChaun oh forget it.

It's actually very funny you said that. I've been following the NYC transit strikes with interest, as over in London, the Tube workers are preparing to walk out over New Year's Eve. I was going to compare labor movements and strike tactics this week, but I thought 'nah', as I was feeling very lazy and more inclined to seek out eggnog than labor relations articles.

As to your question.. I'd argue in favor of them, of course! At least, to a point. I think the strike was a great example of why the labor movement in this country is fragmented and at the mercy of outside influences. But, that's for next week (assuming New Years revelry doesn't keep me thoroughly debased and off-message - no guarantees).

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