I am thoroughly confused.
My sincere desires to wish all of you out there a Merry Christmas are shattered when I am told I may not use those words anymore. I must be careful to avoid offending non-Christians so “Happy Holidays” are now in vogue.
So, what does that correct? The Winter Solstice has long been associated with religious beliefs. How about 25,000 years? Did not early Christians, who did not have a clue as to when Jesus was born because the Roman census requiring families to register in their village of birth never was ordered and is a myth inserted by future writers of the Bible, steal December 25th from the Romans who had already established it as a holiday? But, did the Romans not steal it from the Etruscans, Celts, Franks. Gauls, and all those others to whom they sought to bring the benefits of their rule? If I use it I could be offending the Carthaginians, Parthians, Palestinians, Jews, and so on.
If I cannot use Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays, what words may I utter?
Sure, there is “Happy New Year” - but, wait. Not all of you share the same start date of each new year which means I cannot limit my good wishes to just this time of year. Christian corporations are as varied on start dates as are other cultures.
It really is rare and strange for me to find myself speechless.
So, let me wish all of you PEACE and GOODWILL, whether you are religious or not, whether you can tell time or not, whether you are male or female, whether you are human or otherwise, and whether you were or are friend or foe.
But now I am left somewhat sad, empty, and depressed. Memories haunt me of all those Decembers of my childhood when I waited so impatiently for the wonders of Christmas Day. And all that beautiful music overflowing with peace on earth.
But there is a much sadder and deeper implant that, every December, forces me back to Durham and Yorkshire, especially at Croft where we sang, “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” as we walked, often single file, down that long, long, foreboding path between the station proper and the distant dispersal points of our Wellington bombers. Far too many of those I walked and sang "White Christmas" with, some 60% of us, never returned to collect their breakfast reward of a single egg and slice of bacon. These treasures were reserved for those who survived a night of frolicking through unfriendly forests of flak and fighters.
But there is a much sadder and deeper implant that, every December, forces me back to Durham and Yorkshire, especially at Croft where we sang, “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” as we walked, often single file, down that long, long, foreboding path between the station proper and the distant dispersal points of our Wellington bombers. Far too many of those I walked and sang "White Christmas" with, some 60% of us, never returned to collect their breakfast reward of a single egg and slice of bacon. These treasures were reserved for those who survived a night of frolicking through unfriendly forests of flak and fighters.
Emotions dictate that I shout, "To heck with current etiquette! MERRY CHRISTMAS and A HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
There, I said it! And that leaves me much happier as I suspect you do know that I really mean PEACE and GOODWILL.
Ye Olde Scribe.
georgesweanor@comcast.net
www.yeoldescribe.com
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