I knew it was coming.
Looming on the horizon just waiting for the clock to strike midnight and when it did-my premonitions rang true.
One after another-text messages wishing me a Merry Christmas.
Usually with three or four exclamation points.
Sure, sure…”it’s the THOUGHT that counts”.
But I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again-why didn’t you pick up the phone?
Oh, right–we’re in the age of CONVENIENCE.
INSTANT GRATIFICATION.
Maybe that’s what I miss most about Christmases of days past. Before the internet. Before text messaging. Before split-custody arrangements.
It’s funny–the ONE phone call I did get from a non-blood related person actually came from a friend of mine who’s biding his time in a Canadian prison. But maybe that’s because he COULDN’T text.
The holidays do take on a new meaning every year. Fortunately for me, this year I was somewhat isolated from the barrage of fourth-quarter-boosting advertising and pleas for my hard-earned-very-few-dollars.
See, I spent the time between Black Friday and Christmas Eve selling Christmas Trees on a rented lot here in Harrisburg. Upwards of twelve hours per day I trudged it out making fresh cuts in the base of nearly two hundred fifty trees.
And on some odd level, that made me enjoy this holiday more than those of years past- not so much for time spent with family or the exchanging of gifts–but to provide the EPICENTER of many a family’s Holiday Traditions gave me warm and fuzzies all month long.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all.
“Send”
