With only a week to go before Halloween is upon us, thoughts are naturally turning to Valentine's Day. You think I'm kidding, don't you? But I'm not. If the marketers had their way, we'd be stocking up for next summer's barbecues and buying fireworks for the Fourth of July, too. At the pace we are going, we will soon lap ourselves, and will be able to plan ahead for next year's holidays before we have even experienced the one currently on the horizon. Remind me again, which holiday is coming up?
What prompted this little bit of ranting about the dubious marketing mayhem we are currently experiencing? Last night, I saw a commercial clearly aimed at the Christmas gift buying season, that retail time of year where anything is possible via Santa and a red hot credit card. I suspect that this year's offerings may be slightly less spendy, however, since most people's credit is tightening up, and with job losses on the rise and income on the wane, even the grandparents are having to take a hard look at what is realistic and what is needless waste.
The marketers are not stupid, of course. They don't actually mention Christmas at all. They show lots of festive colors in the red and green line, and they toss subtle hints around our subconscious to remind us, oh so gently, that Christmas, which about 80% of the people in the US celebrate in one form or another, is just around the corner.
They don't leave out the Jewish contingent, either. There are always some dark blue offerings with candles strategically placed, just in case someone of that persuasion should have forgotten what time of year it is, and how suddenly, it's all about what we get, instead of what God gave us.
Naturally, they also want to remind us that Valentine's Day is conveniently located on the calendar shortly thereafter. And by the way, if you really want to get on jump on things, let's not forget the Easter Bunny is currently painting it's whiskers into a knot on those chocolate eggs he will be throwing in our path, so perhaps we should just plan on picking up a few trinkets for that holiday now, while we are at it, and still have money in our pockets. And birthdays come at all times of the year, lest we forget, so perhaps we should stock up for that while we are in the store, anyway. Just to be on the safe side. Tree shortage, you know. You never can tell when paper plates and napkins will no longer be available.
Life is not a DVR, that we should be fast forwarding through it like a manic on a binge, so busy getting to tomorrow that we forget to enjoy the day today. I find it sad, rather than inspiring, that Christmas lighting displays have already turned on in some shopping areas. Yesterday, I saw the Halloween candy on sale, as if the holiday purchasing period was already up, and it is now time to move on, even though the festivities themselves are still a week away.
It reminded me of how I went looking for a swim suit last July, only to be told I would have to go to a specialty store, because they had been clearanced out at the end of June. A statement which went along with a funny glance from the clerk, who apparently was under the impression that I was the one that was out of touch with the times, expecting a swim suit to be available in the middle of summer. What was I thinking?
I know these are old complaints, and have been heard for years, but they are rooted in my genuine desire for the world to slow down a little and enjoy the today we actually have, rather than anticipating the tomorrow that may never come. I think that is a good life goal, regardless of whether we are talking about credit or holidays, or even tomorrow's dinner.
I remember as a child, back in the days when we weren't so regulated that we barely dared put a match to our barbecue grill, to say nothing of a burning pile of leaves, when fall meant crisp air. Do you remember the smell of ripe apples, hay being cut, and the pungent odor of the flames licking at the rapidly consumed leaves? Those are my fall memories, and they put me in the mood for costumes, for the holidays to start, the anticipation to build.
I was reflecting over the last few weeks that I have no motivation to put out my Halloween decorations, even though I have many, and I really enjoy looking at them once a year. I have pondered what is inhibiting me from making the trek to my lower level and bringing up the little box of treasures, many of which are fun and enjoyable to see. I have flashing pumpkins and some flashing skulls, but in a friendly purple color so they aren't too frightening for the little tykes. I have luminarias to light the path to the front door where candy will await the little ghosts and goblins that come to trick or treat with me. What then, has stopped me from doing this task that is mostly enjoyable, one which I have planned for the past month, and haven't made the time to do?
I think it is the feeling that it is simply not worth it any more. No one cares about Halloween, because it is not a holiday about spending money and buying gifts. Therefore, the marketers have declared it a holiday non grata, an unoccasion to remember. And so, like everyone else over the age of ten, I have mostly forgotten it.
In all fairness, I must make a disclaimer here. I have never been a real fan of Halloween to begin with. Perhaps it reveals me for the old fogey I truly am, but Halloween is an anomaly to me - an opportunity for kids to go from door to unknown door, demanding candy loot from their willing victims, while the other 364 days of the year you are telling them not to socialize with people they don't know, and to never, ever, under any circumstances, take food from a source that didn't give birth to them. Or at least have the parental stamp of approval, anyway.
But even that is not my real, deep down problem with Halloween. Somewhere in the depths of my inner self, I have always suspected that Halloween is a ruse, perpetrated by the crafty moms of the world, who use this opportunity to show up the rest of us for the creative slackers that we truly are. I have seen costumes at my local elementary school that would make a Hollywood director weep for the beauty of it all, produced with no more than a yard of fabric, three pipe cleaners, a roll of tape, and a little mental energy, all for the mere outlay of $356 dollars. Plus tax.
I will make my declaration of independence right here and now. I am not, never have been, and never will be, a crafty mom. I am hopeless, in fact. I am capable of sewing together a skirt or a simple shift dress, but if you give me anything with legs, I will guarantee you there will only be one opening by the time I am through with it. I find pipe cleaners to be more difficult to handle than real pipes that I handle with aplomb. I am certain that glitter and glue are foreign objects destined for little eyes that will certainly cut your capillaries and cause you to go blind before they will cause you to shield your eyes from the sparkling beauty of them on the costume. In short, I am not a costume queen, and I generally end up looking bad on the parental creativity scale.
Things were different when I was a child, of course, because I was blessed with a mother who is crafty in the extreme. Each Halloween was an opportunity for her creative juices to flow freely, and she came up with outfits that were legendary. The upside down person was a winning entry in the local school contest, and along with a few ghosts and other costumes, my brother and I were usually outfitted with the best of them.
But I think her crowning glory came the year she made my dog and I matching Checkerboard Squarecrows. [If you do not know what that is, discover Google and learn a valuable skill, which will be far more useful than reading silly blogs all day long.] It was a master craftsman effort, and needless to say, I won the silver dollar prize, a small but heady nod in her direction from the Lion's Club powers-that-be that ran the local school party that our town used as a substitute for trick or treating.
She made my little rat terrier-chihuahua mix a jacket, a hat, and little pants that had space for her tail to stick out of. Then she took blue jeans, a jacket, and made a matching hat for me. It was an amazing burst of mindful magic, and the outcome was everything you could hope for. We still have that little doggie costume, by the way. I remain amazed that she was able to make an outfit for a dog, complete with tail hole, and probably in less time that I spend threading a needle.
So, in the face of that kind of parental pressure, you can well imagine my own panic at goblin time. I crack under the pressure, simply can't think at all. The brain gears creak to a halt, and I am paralyzed by the fear of failure. Well, okay, that's probably a bit much. But it is a fact that I simply cannot come up with an idea in my head that I can translate into a reality, no matter how hard I try.
The only really decent costumes my kids have ever worn were the creations of WalMart, or my mother's pity. My daughter stopped asking for help as soon as she was old enough to hold out her hand for the money it was going to cost me, and just directed me to the correct store where she would put her own look together. Works for me. She is crafty and thrifty, and usually ends up with a new wardrobe item that gets used far beyond the holiday in question, anyway.
So I know why I want to fast forward past the ritual of Halloween, but I don't want to fast forward through fall. We skip over Thanksgiving like it doesn't even exist, and except for the turkeys and the football, it almost doesn't any more.
I have a tradition of decorating my house for Christmas on Thanksgiving Day, because it puts me in the holiday mood. I put on my Christmas carols, and while the house is filled with the aroma of delicious Thanksgiving food permeating every corner and cranny, I am putting up my cherished reminders of Christmas past.
I enjoy the limited scope of a holiday season between Thanksgiving and New Year's. I like it that Christmas always comes too soon. From the moment I drop my cards into the mailbox, always the first thing I do every year to kick off my holiday season, until I put the last decoration away in January, I enjoy the sensation of the Christmas spirit. I don't want to celebrate the holidays before their time, because then, when it is time, I am tired of it and ready for something new.
In our fast forward culture, we are constantly looking ahead to the Next Big Thing. We are rarely satisfied with the here and now, the present, the moment. I enjoy living in the moment, enjoying each minute, each hour, each day, for the gift it is, because God has not guaranteed us that we will have any more than that.
I am going to get those decorations up today, and try to avoid the feeling that I am somehow behind the times, a slacker, so late it is virtually pointless to even bother. I am going to revel in the idea that a week before is enough time to enjoy the holiday for what it is, and to get myself in the mood for the fall harvest festival that Thanksgiving should be. I am going to enjoy the day, appreciate the warmth of the sun that is still shining in the sky, and stop and smell the leaves on my lawn and the fresh crisp air that is blowing them around.
And when the first ghost comes to my door, I will cast my mind back to that day so many years ago when my dog and I had the best costume in town, and I will smile mysteriously as I hand over the loot.
Perhaps I will even play a trick on someone. Maybe even you. You never know. But hopefully you will now enjoy thinking about the holiday that is, instead of the holidays that are to come.
