A CASE OF THE BAH-HUMBUGS

I'm having a case of the "bah-humbugs."

I suppose it's just general depression, but other than singing along with some nostalgic Christmas carols, I just can't get into the commercialized spirit. I suppose I related more to the spirit shown on this week's "Grey's Anatomy" than I once did when I watched "It's A Wonderful Life" for the 100th time, with paper towels in hand to wipe away the tears.     

I can't even dig up too many great memories from past Christmases, one of the worst perhaps being the day I proclaimed to my parents that I knew there wasn't a Santa Claus. All the annual gifts vanished and I was simply left with Mother and Daddy coming in drunk rather than Santa sipping some milk and eating cookies.     

The family get-togethers were fun, but it was downhill all the way from there. Since my birthday came so close, I rarely saw a gift, even though Granny would sometimes bake one of her wonderful cakes that she knew I loved.     

Today, I drive into Fort Oglethorpe, taking my life into my own hands as drivers weave frantically in and out of traffic, will cell phones in hand and minds probably elsewhere. I see few smiling faces and underneath the veneer, a lot of unhappiness everywhere. What smiles there are seem forced, even as I get served at a restaurant by a silly-looking elf wearing a Santa hat and a shirt exploding with symbols of the season.

On the streets outside are homeless people with coats held tightly in efforts to block out the cold, their worldly belongings in bags slung over their shoulders, and their taste buds possibly longing for even a Krystal burger to alleviate their hunger. But we can't look at them too long, because they might depress our Christmas spiritas we swipe our credit cards for things that we and others don't even need or might not even appreciate.     

Christ isn't anywhere to be seen. Some major churches aren't even having services on Christmas morning, which happens to fall on a Sunday. The concept apparently is that parishioners would be better served by staying home with their families, opening expensive and cheap gifts, from the useful to the useless, drinking booze-enhanced eggnog and watching football on big-screen televisions. It probably doesn't matter, since no one knows if Jesus was really born on or even near December 25.     

I recall going to church (when I was dedicated to being among the first in the house of worship) on a Christmas Sunday morning. Attendance was relatively poor, and those present looked stressed and worn out. Even the pastor couldn't project any enthusiasm. I believed then that he and everyone simply wanted the whole thing to be over.     

Even Christianity has become overly commercial, with gospel rockers selling albums and Hollywood starting to cater to the church crowd. I remember from my church days that we were discouraged from worldly things like rock and roll, and heaven forbid that we enter a sinful movie theater -- the devil's playhouse, as my grandmother's sister once called the Liberty Theater in Chickamauga, GA. (If the devil was having a good time in those days of squeaky-clean movies, he must be having like a totally awesome time behind the screens these days.)     

And people are so concerned about political correctness these days. What on earth is so wrong about saying "happy holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas"? The Jewish people, who don't believe in Jesus, have their holiday and black folks have both Christmas Day and a week of Kwanzaa to celebrate. The whole argument is silly.     

It almost seems that New Year's Eve is the only celebration that everyone has in common, and that too is an imaginary and not so magical mark that some like to deceive themselves into believing really brings changes and something better simply because the calendar turns over to a new year.     

Believe it or not, I used to be a positive thinker and, believe it or not, even after writing this, I like to believe that the good side of man-and-womankind will prevail and allow the Spirit of Love that is flowing through the universe to rule. I like to believe that people will stop hating.     

Christmas? Bah-humbug. But that's just my own opinion. It is not intended to reflect the opinion of others, whom I indeed hope will have a joyous ... whatever they celebrate. And I seriously pray that few others have my present, quite cynical view, primarily looking forward to anytime in January -- but I know I am not alone, and we who feel this way all need your prayers.     

I pray that your holiday season is packed with all the good things and happiness that comes from your observations. Keep your faith and please use your role and power as an individual to make 2006 a better year -- starting now.  

(c) 2005, Toney Atkins