Christmas Is Always Coming
No, you're not imagining things. Christmas consumerism comes earlier every year. And this year may set the record: Dollar Tree has just released its 2017 "Holiday Book."
A Public Service Announcement: Emergency Communications
Being unable to find out if my mother was dead or alive in
Puerto Rico for five days post-Maria was terrifying, especially because she had
a broken leg and was housebound. I learned a lot from this horrendous
experience, mostly that you need to have a plan in place BEFORE a disaster. And
that plan has to be more than “Call me as soon as you can.”
Here are my hurricane-inspired guidelines for communication in emergency situations.
1. Phone. The
most frustrating aspect of the Hurricane Maria emergency was the complete lack
of working phones anywhere – not just on the island, but on widely
shared lists of governmental aid agencies like FEMA. NONE of those numbers
worked, even when their area codes were in places not affected by the
hurricane. Here’s a newsflash: you will not be able to rely on the government
for communication in case of an emergency. It will be private citizens and NGOs
that make things happen.
That said, even though phone service may be out for days, phones are still your first line of defense. Create a network of
friends and family in different states and even countries. If the person in the disaster zone can get through to even one, he or she can spread the word to the rest of the network. Create your own plan,
with people you know and trust, and watch out for each other.
Note that sometimes texting
works even when regular phone service doesn’t. Keep calling and texting. At some point, phones will come back online. D
Oh, and keep your phone charged! Have at least one portable charger
like this one and keep it/them charged too.
A Democrat's Holiday Lament
It's
Christmas 2016 and you're not feeling it. Somehow you've managed to throw up some decorations, bake
some cookies and wrap some gifts. But the more you
try to stoke the flames of holiday joy, the more apparent it becomes: This will
be a sad one. SAD, as in Seasonal Affective Disorder. SAD as in Sorrowful, Anguished, Distraught.
You've
tried to get into the spirit, but instead of counting your blessings, you're counting the number of petitions
you've signed, the horrifying
cabinet appointments, the looming decades of despair.
Your
incoming president and his minions are laying the framework to destroy the few things you liked about
the government. Every day brings another "Springtime for Hitler" moment, and you watch, agape, as another Worst Possible Thing happens. No wait, here's something even worse.
Your friends are sick of
listening to you bitch, and vice versa. You all agree the wallowing has got to stop, but each new announcement brings fresh wails of pain.
Your
once cohesive group of Facebook friends is now a tattered assemblage of groups you've painstakingly customized to see curated posts. Your Facebook feed is littered with threats, demands and nasty
comment-based mudslinging. You've been unfriended and you've unfriended others -
including some family members. And so you enter the holiday season with fewer friends,
and even though that's only true in a virtual sense, it feels very IRL.
You've attempted a news blackout, swearing off CNN and MSNBC and changing your home page away from The New York Times because every story you forget to avoid punches you in the gut. You feel alternately sick and guilty: The gifting of our country to one percenters and science deniers should be energizing you to take action...but all those worsts have worn you down. So you're only watching Shark Tank and Big Bang Theory on
regular TV, and binging on Netflix, Hulu and Amazon Prime. Amazon's cancellation of Good Girls Revolt at the moment you finished the first season hit you like a sucker punch.
You've gotten fewer Christmas
cards this year, and those you did get came without a cheery Christmas newsletter because, well, no one's feeling that cheery and there isn't much good news.
The weather is making climate change doubters gleeful because it got cold again and that means the glaciers are saved, right? Drilling in the Arctic is back on, either way.
Sure, SNL is must-see again, but only because it makes you smile as it twists the knife.
Satire is surely a goner. Fiction couldn't think up anything crazier than what's been going on this year.
Leonard Cohen, Prince and Bowie are silenced forever, while Kid Rock and Ted Nugent step back into the spotlight.
Christmas 2016: The poster child for Hellish Holidays.
Unthankful
Parents go to a lot of trouble to give their kids delicious food, time with extended family and memorable experiences on Thanksgiving. Here's how some ungrateful wretches respond. (Caution: $#&;*$%^ language ahead)
That Darn Election
Those Darn Slackers
Irredeemable Slacker (Almost) Redeemed
Note: This guy has been on YouTube as long as Hellish Holidays has been publishing!
A Very Jimmy Halloween
The 6th anniversary of watching parents humiliate their kids and show off the poor parenting skills that created these tantrum-throwing sugar junkies.
Hungry for more? Here are the previous editions.
2015
2014
2013
2012
2011
#ThanksgivingFail
Here we go again.
Glitches in plans longstanding and last-minute.
Travel that dooms any sense of thankfulness and reinforces the theory that hell is other people.
Family that threatens to do the same.
Eating to the point of bursting seams, guilt and depression.
Continued drought...or early snow.
Black Friday mania and marketing run amok.
The dreary trek back home.
Happy Hellish Thanksgiving!
Christmas for Atheists
Despite the title of my blog, I semi-love the holidays. Lighting the Hanukkah candles, baking cookies, wrapping carefully chosen gifts, decorating the house, creating Jib Jab cards with pictures of friends and family, Christmas Eve dinner at my aunt and uncle's house...when I'm not having an emotional breakdown tied to a broken oven or lost shipments, I mostly revel in the split personality of the Christmas/Hanukkah season.
Then there's the religious aspect. Sure, there's less and less "Christ" in "Christmas" every year, but Jesus' birthday is still the raison d'etre of the holiday. As an atheist with a Jewish son, I've carefully honed my skills at avoidance, denial and obliviousness. Fortunately, these come fairly naturally to me!
I grew up going to church, so carols and Christmas-themed hymns bring back vivid memories, and good or bad, those memories of our youth hold significant power. I recall the tension caused by my parents' different religions, the negative messages spoken and unspoken. I recall the last Christmas my parents were together (1972) and realize how hard they must have been trying to keep it together. And the first Christmas after they'd separated, how awkward to bisect our celebration.
Perhaps most vividly, I recall sitting with my mother and youngest sister in the front row at Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church on Christmas Eve 28 years ago, right before I left New York for Los Angeles, and all of us sobbing uncontrollably at "Silent Night." (I had the same reaction to the movie Platoon around the same time. Hard to believe I had such mixed feelings about moving cross country!)
These days, I get lots of requests to participate in caroling, Christmas performances, such as Handel's Messiah - even midnight Mass. Occasionally I give in, and try to enjoy some bonding and/or aesthetic fulfillment. But since I'm not a believer, those songs ring hollow and feel like an uncomfortable melding of mawkish and fraudulent.
For atheists, 'tis the season for hiking and movies!
Then there's the religious aspect. Sure, there's less and less "Christ" in "Christmas" every year, but Jesus' birthday is still the raison d'etre of the holiday. As an atheist with a Jewish son, I've carefully honed my skills at avoidance, denial and obliviousness. Fortunately, these come fairly naturally to me!
I grew up going to church, so carols and Christmas-themed hymns bring back vivid memories, and good or bad, those memories of our youth hold significant power. I recall the tension caused by my parents' different religions, the negative messages spoken and unspoken. I recall the last Christmas my parents were together (1972) and realize how hard they must have been trying to keep it together. And the first Christmas after they'd separated, how awkward to bisect our celebration.
Perhaps most vividly, I recall sitting with my mother and youngest sister in the front row at Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church on Christmas Eve 28 years ago, right before I left New York for Los Angeles, and all of us sobbing uncontrollably at "Silent Night." (I had the same reaction to the movie Platoon around the same time. Hard to believe I had such mixed feelings about moving cross country!)
These days, I get lots of requests to participate in caroling, Christmas performances, such as Handel's Messiah - even midnight Mass. Occasionally I give in, and try to enjoy some bonding and/or aesthetic fulfillment. But since I'm not a believer, those songs ring hollow and feel like an uncomfortable melding of mawkish and fraudulent.
For atheists, 'tis the season for hiking and movies!
Hellish Letters to Santa
If you ever find yourself in northern Michigan, make sure to set your Waze for Frankenmuth. This year-round Christmas town features Bronner's Christmas Wonderland. Don't worry if it's July and you're covered in cherry juice from the roadside stands: At Bronner's it's always frosty and jolly in the most December 25th sense of that term. The place is a city-sized Christmas merch mecca.
According to Michigan-centric website MLive, Bronner's invites kids to submit letters to Santa and this year received the au courant yet typical marketing-driven pleadings for "iPods and iPhones, tablets, 'Frozen' paraphernalia, LEGOs and Zoomer — an interactive toy dog."
I've seen arm-length wish lists before, both from my own child and as a participant in a charity-sponsored event to purchase something for an underprivileged child.
I only did the Santa charity thing once because most of the lists asked for at least a dozen very specific and expensive items: video game systems and games, computers, electronic toys... Almost everything included a brand name. You just knew these kids were not going to be happy with some random gift from a toy drive. They wanted what they saw on TV and even the most well-meaning donor couldn't come close to satisfying their desires.
I realize that Christmas is commercialized. That it's (almost) all about the presents. But seeing wish lists adding up to many hundreds of dollars is depressing regardless of the financial situations of the children's families. I still wonder where I went wrong every time I look at what my own teen son craved, both in quantity and specificity.
Luckily the joy of Christmas morning comes from being with family and giving of yourself - not just taking. No matter how high the greed level and how impoverished the household, the magic can still happen. All it takes is a different kind of list.
According to Michigan-centric website MLive, Bronner's invites kids to submit letters to Santa and this year received the au courant yet typical marketing-driven pleadings for "iPods and iPhones, tablets, 'Frozen' paraphernalia, LEGOs and Zoomer — an interactive toy dog."
I've seen arm-length wish lists before, both from my own child and as a participant in a charity-sponsored event to purchase something for an underprivileged child.
I only did the Santa charity thing once because most of the lists asked for at least a dozen very specific and expensive items: video game systems and games, computers, electronic toys... Almost everything included a brand name. You just knew these kids were not going to be happy with some random gift from a toy drive. They wanted what they saw on TV and even the most well-meaning donor couldn't come close to satisfying their desires.
I realize that Christmas is commercialized. That it's (almost) all about the presents. But seeing wish lists adding up to many hundreds of dollars is depressing regardless of the financial situations of the children's families. I still wonder where I went wrong every time I look at what my own teen son craved, both in quantity and specificity.
Luckily the joy of Christmas morning comes from being with family and giving of yourself - not just taking. No matter how high the greed level and how impoverished the household, the magic can still happen. All it takes is a different kind of list.
A Musically Hellish Christmas (Videos)
Yes, the Chipmunks are always nauseating, but there’s plenty more hellish Christmas music.
It’s the acting that’s hellish, not the Ramones.
The new holiday classic!
Woof.
Ribbit.
Shake those Christmas disco balls!
The ultimate hodgepodge: jarring yet compelling.
It’s the acting that’s hellish, not the Ramones.
The new holiday classic!
Woof.
Ribbit.
Shake those Christmas disco balls!
The ultimate hodgepodge: jarring yet compelling.
For the Rich Survivalist on Your Holiday Gift List
Top Christmas present for the paranoid on your list: the $12,500 Ulysses Tier 1 Disaster Relief Kit, seen here.
In case of emergency, break out the big bucks for this package, designed in consultation with a former Navy SEAL for the fashion-forward fallout shelter.
If you expect your New Year to hold disaster, whether an earthquake, tornado, hurricane, wildfire, terrorist attack or plain old extended power outage, this one's for you - or could be if you have a someone who loves you enough to save you with the very best.
Inside are items to sustain you (a water purifier and nutrition bars), protect you (pepper spray and a holster - as a red-blooded American, you're probably already armed) and get you powered up day and night (solar panels and hand-cranked lighting). A satellite phone will let you reassure your fans that you're not quite ready for the "In Memoriam" section of the next awards show.
There are more than 50 items altogether. The Ulysses is a survivalist's dream: night vision goggles, sleeping bags, a flashlight, helmet, binocular and gloves, a solar/crank radio, an emergency beacon and tons of tools - plus of course batteries - all housed in a rolling, waterproof case. A reassuring touch of luxury comes from a cashmere blankie.
For you maltie-poo or puggle, a mere $500 adds in the pet essentials package.
Since batteries comprise my entire survival kit -and since the apocalypse is looking increasingly likely - I'm putting this on my wish list. Come on, Santa, put a little future-proofing in my present!
I'll Be Home...and Stoned...for Christmas
Mississippi musician Dent May has come up with a refreshingly original take on the holiday song: "I'll Be Stoned for Christmas."
Belying its revolutionary title, the song is a dreamy, '80s-tinged
pop-classic-in-the-making. It perfectly captures the experience of
returning home for the holidays.
So long, Mariah! Hasta la vista, Chipmunks!
"'Tis the season to be high." And now, thanks to Dent, I'm high on music.
So long, Mariah! Hasta la vista, Chipmunks!
"'Tis the season to be high." And now, thanks to Dent, I'm high on music.
Friends Are the Family You Choose
Thanksgiving 2014 is more than two weeks past and I'm just now able to talk about it. Hellish, truly hellish.
Despite running a blog called Hellish Holidays, I'm not actually looking to have them myself. I figured I'd write about the holiday traumas of my youth and then post stuff about OTHER people's bad times today. I thought those nightmare Thanksgivings were over for me. Then I had dinner with friends.
To be clear, I had dinner with two friends who hadn't met before, and a friend of a friend I hadn't met. We ate at the recently relocated Palm in Beverly Hills, which none of us had visited since it left its longtime, beloved location in West Hollywood. That's a lot of new variables for a "traditional" meal, and the unknown is the enemy of comfort level.
Despite running a blog called Hellish Holidays, I'm not actually looking to have them myself. I figured I'd write about the holiday traumas of my youth and then post stuff about OTHER people's bad times today. I thought those nightmare Thanksgivings were over for me. Then I had dinner with friends.
To be clear, I had dinner with two friends who hadn't met before, and a friend of a friend I hadn't met. We ate at the recently relocated Palm in Beverly Hills, which none of us had visited since it left its longtime, beloved location in West Hollywood. That's a lot of new variables for a "traditional" meal, and the unknown is the enemy of comfort level.
I'm known for the diversity of my friends. A few are compatible but most would never have anything to do with each other if they didn't have me in common. Some would actively avoid each other. And it turns out that two of those in that last category were thrown together at my Thanksgiving table.
It started with bickering, moved on to one-upping and climaxed with insults. The friend-of-a-friend stranger and I bonded in the way that siblings bond when their parents fight. We tried to stay out of the way, tried to change the subject, tried to find points of agreement between the two...nothing worked. A Venn diagram of our table would be four separate circles.
Add to this the fact that the new Palm looks like a small-town Hyatt restaurant and the turkey dinner was mediocre and you can see why I left there feeling angry, betrayed and broke. We kept ordering wine but it was never enough to stanch the flow of vitriol between those two.
And note to the Palm: One big-ass ugly mural is not a viable replacement for a lifetime of customer caricatures.
Next year I go to a friend's house and join her family again. This is what I've done for the past few years but two of my friends suggested a special dinner out. I'd never taken that route before. Now I know why.
I Hate Every Single Christmas
"Single" is the operative word here, as relatives ask, "Sweetheart, are you seeing anyone?"
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