The holidays are upon us, and that means everyone’s got their hopes up. They’re all filled with Christmas cheer and the thoughts of great things around the corner. They can’t wait to sit down with family next to a roaring fire as everyone dives for presents under the Christmas tree. Then they remember that they don’t even have a fireplace.
Americans usually love to see things go horribly wrong, to watch heroes fall and to say that they saw it coming the whole time. But for some reason, this time of year makes people forget all their experiences and wish for the best, only to have their hopes dashed when the momentous day finally arrives.
Why is this? Because we all let our hopes get risen to unrealistic levels, and it’s the entertainment industry that does it to us–and Norman f&%$ing Rockwell.
Remember The Matrix? How it changed our views on Keanu Reeves’ acting career, how it reflected our wariness of technology in the Internet of the late 1990s, and how it introduced “bullet time”? In terms of visual effects, theology and theories on life in the online world, we were blown away. We were even thrilled when we heard they were planning on making two more Matrix movies. Two!
And all we got were albinos in dreadlocks and a topless Larry Fishburne.
That’s because we all got so excited about the second and third installments and expected the same rush we got from the first. We also had years of hype added onto it. It’s the same thing with the holidays.
Who doesn’t love hearing a Christmas carol or two, even though we’ll never admit it? It takes us to warm memories, where we got to open up the biggest present under the tree and life seemed to be perfect for just one day. Of course, it never actually happened that way, it’s just how we remember it.
We forget about Uncle John’s drinking problem and how he likes to use grown-up words a lot when he tells stories about our mother. We omit the burned Christmas ham, or the egg nog that tasted just a little off. Instead, we let commercials tell us that this time of year is magical and we need to buy more things. We let Christmas movies tell us that the whole family will get together and wacky hi jinx will ensue. I personally am upset every year when I wake up and not only is my family still in the house, but I don’t even have the opportunity to set up elaborate yet cute traps to outfox the bumbling burglars that just might show up to rob the place.
Sure, the holidays are fun. You get to see family, it’s an excuse to drink with your coworkers, and you get a few things you like as payment for putting up with crowded malls getting stuff for other people. Nostalgia is a dangerous thing, like heroin. Sure it’s nice at first, but it could ruin your family reunion. And then you’re all strung out on nostalgia, desperate to do anything for a hit. Perhaps, that’s a bad analogy.
Christmas is nice, but it’s not magical. But just in case, I’m tying paint cans over the stairs.