As I was waiting for the north bound train this morning, I saw the south bound train stop on the other side of the tracks just like it does several hundred times a day, every day, even if there's someone giving birth or brandishing an AK-47 in one of its cars. It was a train like any other.
Well, not quite...
This one was decorated.
I don't mean just the standard a giant ad wraps for the Eagles, or the latest citywide cleanup campaign.
This fucking thing's halls were decked.
There were jolly Santas in the Windows a la Norman Rockwell.
There were snowflake decals.
There was shiny red and white garland on the support bars inside.
It was tacky, gaudy, and absolutely beautiful.
I haven't felt very festive in many, many years. I've likely been disenfranchised with the whole idea of Xmas since dinner was moved from my grandmother's house (where it will always properly be as far as I'm concerned), but I actually smiled this morning.
And I never smile in the morning (okay, well sometimes I do, but that's none of your business).
I got this strange idea in my head that maybe there's hope after all. It was only one train, and I haven't seen any news stories about a rabble being roused because of the very specifically Xmas decorations.
It's just something nice, and joyful, and more pleasant to look at than graffiti and urine stains.
I'd have the same reaction if there were dreidel (sp?) and menorah decals.
It's not about what you call it.
It's not even about what you celebrate, or how.
The important thing is that you can celebrate anything you want, however you wish, and should never feel pressured to hide or modify it for a bunch of complete strangers all the way across the country, because they might be offended if you use the wrong word.
So...
Merry fucking Xmas.
Happy fucking Hanukkah.
Have a wonderful fucking Saturnalia.
And yes, you obnoxious, politically correct hipsters, happy fucking holidays.
No comments:
Post a Comment