Good Ol'-Fashioned Holiday...ah, never mind...

With the holidays upon us, tradition means a lot to our friends and families. Unless you're stuck in 2020, of course, where most traditions such as family gatherings are thrown under the bus (for good reason).

But even with daunting obstacles in our path, the world is still finding variations on the old holiday traditions by masking, distancing, and going Zoom crazy (not to mention drinking, internet spending gone wild, and the outta control growth of facial hair). 

I say, let the merriment continue! Sing carols to each other via Zoom (frankly I'd prefer that over the excruciatingly uncomfortable visit upon my doorstep)! Reach out to friends and family and that guy who bullied you in eighth grade and let them know you're thinking of them...well, maybe not the bully; if you told him what you're thinking, it could very well start a new round of bullying.

One of our newest traditions is a very Christmas decorated bathroom. Shower curtain, towels, soap dispenser, other stuff. My daughter named it "Santa's Bathroom," clearly the place where Santa delivers his, um, gifts.

The important thing is, no matter what your holiday traditions are, do carry on. Find safe alternatives, but keep the spirit of the holidays healthy. Keep hope alive.

I gotta say, though, some traditions are probably better off buried.

These days, office holiday parties end up in mandatory diversity and/or sexual harassment training seminars, so cut it out. "Elf On a Shelf" is pure big business hokum mass-manufactured to give children Christmas nightmares. The song, Baby, It's Cold Outside? No. We don't need creepy, date-rape holiday music. Tinsel's probably about as healthy as bathing in fiberglass. Yard inflatables? Let's stick a pin in the damned monstrosities and turn them into wiggly windy guys found in car lots. I could go on, but I won't...

Wait. I think I will. Has anyone ever tried "figgy pudding," let alone know what it is? Furthermore, why is the singer so damned demanding? (Okay, hold on, now I'm curious. Well, figgy pudding sounds a lot like a kind of fruitcake. We can do without that, too.)

Some holiday traditions you can't kill with a hand grenade. They come back more times than Jason or Freddy or Michael. A lot of my past family gatherings usually resulted in some racist remarks. Granted, the guilty parties have tempered it in recent times, utilizing a kinder, softer sort of racism...wait, scratch that. There is no such qualification. But no matter how much I'd tried to stomp the racism out, it somehow kept sneaking back in around the holidays. Time of the year, I guess. Or more likely, the only time during the year I'd see some family members.

That tradition's not going to happen this year, though. On the 25th, it's just my wife and I. And it feels like our first Christmas together in a weird way. No stress, no travel, no awkward political conversations, no racism, no family discomfort! 

Now, bring me some of that damn figgy pudding. Don't make me say it again!

Happy holidays, everyone! Stay safe.

And speaking of the "horror-days," I would encourage everyone  to check out Grinning Skull Press' annual Deathlehem series, seven books containing all the Christmas horror tales you'd ever want stuffed in your stocking. Not only are these tomes chock-full of great prose, but all proceeds go the worthy Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation. I'm particularly fond of The Shadow over Deathlehem (which contains a stellar story by a certain writer who's too damn humble to mention himself by name).