Holiday Sneer
Worn out already? Renew your spirit with these suggestions.
by David Valdes Greenwood
Does the sound of "Away in a Manger" tinkling out of a plastic cherub at Osco
make you twitch? Do you fantasize about hiring Barry Scheck to get you out of
Hanukkah with your in-laws? Do the words solstice and kwanzaa sound like
synonyms for "Please God, not another party"? Does prolonged exposure to tinsel
in public spaces make you want to go postal?
Stop, take a deep breath, and put down the candy cane you've just sharpened
into a vampire-slaying stake. You are not alone. There is help. There is HoHo.
Holiday Overcomers Helping Others was established in 1973, when a Nixon
loyalist found he was simply unable to squeeze out any seasonal goodwill;
empty-handed on Christmas Eve, he made the unfortunate decision to burn down
his house instead of admitting that he hadn't done any shopping. His ex-wife,
with the divorce settlement she received in early 1974, went on to found HoHo,
determined that no one else's Christmas should go up in smoke.
Though there are no official HoHo chapters in this area (or, it is rumored,
anywhere else), a copy of The HoHo 12-Step Guide to Getting in the Spirit
was mailed to me anonymously by someone who could see that my tolerance for
Santa snow globes and sugarplum fairies was waning. Noticing the irritated
expressions of fellow subway riders lately, I've realized that Boston could use
a little HoHo itself.
I'm happy to share the joy.
Twelve steps to getting in the spirit
1. Self-indulgence
All the self-restraint of day-to-day life, the deny-thyself Zeitgeist of the
temperate '90s, the emphasis on physical and fiscal fitness -- forget it. These
six weeks of holiday celebration are just not like the other 46; you have to
approach them with "dog years" math. One holiday week really takes the toll of
seven on your body. Obviously, such a pace is exhausting, and you'll need extra
supplies for stamina. So go ahead, buy that Godiva truffle -- and if Jenny
Craig doesn't like it, let her do your shopping. See a pair of shoes at Aldo
that you thought you couldn't afford? Buy them, and the memory of the purchase
will be rocket fuel whenever you need a boost.
2. Visioning
The good news is that holiday weeks only feel longer: they're actually the
same length as rest-of-the-year weeks. Fix your eyes on mid-January, when no
one will be jolly, and buck up. "I can do anything for six weeks" is the mantra
of the true survivalist.
3. Daily affirmations
Repeat after me: "I know that not loving the holiday season is no crime." "I
am not a Grinch, I am merely honest about my feelings." "Hallmark cannot
manipulate me. Hallmark cannot shame me. I have power over Hallmark."
4. Pacing
Set one goal for each day leading up to your holiday of choice, and stick to
it. Trying to buy Nana a Clapper and little cousin Latisha a collectors'
edition Beanie Baby might be feasible in one day, but not if you also try to
whip up four batches of divinity fudge and volunteer to lead dreidel-spinning
at the local library children's hour. You can't do everything Martha Stewart
does in her holiday special, and neither can she, so get over it.
5. Positive association
Surely you must have enjoyed this holiday at one time in your life. Try to
remember the details. Was it an afternoon of sipping hot chocolate? Go to a
coffee shop that's cozy and order yourself a cup (though you might have to
bring your own marshmallows). Was there music? Buy a CD (or, perhaps more
appropriately, an LP) from that era. Were there kitschy tchotchkes? Go to
Faneuil Hall or a church-basement holiday fair.
6. Self-gratification
The importance of recognizing your own worth cannot be overstated. And how
better to say "I am a good shopper" than to give yourself a little present, a
token of your self-esteem and affection? You will surprise yourself with how
thoughtful you are when you appreciate, say, the lusciousness of a chocolate
truffle or the fashion flair of new shoes. (Note: this is not just a cheap way
of repeating step one; the two are completely different.)
7. Inner childhood
Admit it: the biggest damper on holiday cheer is your adulthood. Whether it's
because of the intellectual elitism that makes cynicism a virtue, or a
beleaguered, if-you-only-knew-what-I've-been-through fatigue, your adult self
cannot turn on glee the way your child self used to. Banish the grown-up. Admit
you like the blinking lights, or the sight of blue-and-silver boxes, or eggnog,
or Charlie Brown specials -- and enjoy them.
8. Atmospheric control
Do the decorating yourself, and you only have yourself to blame if you don't
like the results. For Solstice, we cover the house in suns and moons and swath
the lintels with fir boughs because they smell good. Cheery decorations in
green and gold actually do inspire us to bake cookies and light candles and
send cards and, well, you get the idea.
9. Variety
If you're still feeling sluggish, jolt yourself out of it by changing your
regular routine. Go skating on the Boston Common frog pond instead of doing the
Stairmaster. Make yourself over and show up at work in an exotic outfit that
coworkers will gossip about. Try kimchee or injera or sag paneer or any food
you've never tasted before. Pick out gift wrap and cards at 3 a.m. in an
all-night CVS and sleep in because you met your goals for the day before the
sun rose.
10. Fantasy
Forward-looking companies of the '90s call it "creative visualization" or
"thinking outside the box," but it's nothing more than the act of wishful
thinking. Imagine a best-case scenario: you finish gift shopping a week early,
pay your entire credit card bill on time, and win money from the instant-win
label on your McDonald's fries. Then figure out which fantasy you are most
likely to realize -- and do it.
11. Venting
Become Grinch Buddies with someone and set aside time every day to deconstruct
the day's grievances: an annoying carol you heard played on a car horn; a
nine-year-old who dove in your path to buy the last Arthur doll; the store that
not only did not have kwanzaa candles but whose elderly owner kept asking you
just which part of Africa you were from. You're not allowed to let anyone but
your buddy hear a single antiholiday slur cross your lips, so choose this
soulmate of bitchiness carefully (think Nellie Olsen, not Laura Ingalls).
12. Self-reward
After meeting your goals -- each day, at the end of each week, and the day
after the holiday -- reward yourself for your determination and follow-through.
After braving snarling crowds and electronic carols -- not to mention all the
Santas (the live one ringing a bell in front of your office, or the plastic one
with a light bulb up his buttkus that sits on your boss's desk) -- you've
certainly earned it, right? Go with your instincts: the person most deserving
of a present is always going to be you. (Though this should definitely not be
confused with steps one or six, more chocolate and more shoes are not out of
the question.)
I've personally taken every step on this list and learned the truth: with some
planning and a lot of willpower, anyone can avoid holiday burnout. And that, of
course, is what HoHo is all about.
David Valdes Greenwood, who spent too many holidays singing "Keep Christ in
Christmas," now celebrates Solstice.