I remember when I was a very young child at school, the first series of books that I wanted to check out from the library were the Peanuts comic strip books. I’m not entirely sure why — maybe because the comics often centered on Snoopy and I like dogs. Perhaps as a child, I identified with Charlie Brown (my head has always been pretty large). Whatever the reason, I was a bit obsessed with those line drawings and that terribly mild humor. In particular, I remember the strips around Christmas when Charlie Brown would be at his brownest. His mood was usually caused by not getting cards, not getting gifts, existential anxiety, or the commercialism he saw in the kids around him. Lucy, for example, would insist that it was the Season for Getting.
Does Christmas require presents? I am a loner by nature and most people in my life don’t even know where I live, let alone have visited me. On Christmas, I usually only have one or two presents to unwrap. I have to admit, I do love it. I like seeing presents under my tree. I like keeping myself from opening them. I like not knowing what I’ve gotten until that day when I open them up. How would I like it if there were no mystery items covered in paper for me to tear open that morning? I think I’d survive. I’d still have my own tree and my own stocking and my own decorations. I’d still give my dog some special treat and (if the weather had cooperated) go out to play in the snow. I’d still drink hot chocolate while watching Christmas movies. It would be a fine Christmas.
That’s not to say that I am turning down presents. Not at all. In fact, just to make it easier on people who don’t know me well, I have wishlists on amazon.com AND wishlist.com . It doesn’t make me uncomfortable to accept very expensive items nor does it upset me to receive cheap trinkets. I don’t mind if near strangers give me gifts nor if my close friends can’t. But I like stuff. It’s just true. At least on my wishlists, I’m not asking for some of the weird things other people want:
I still have my two front teeth. I’m sure if I were to lose them, I’d wish for a replacement set, but that’s what my dental plan is for. For the time being, I don’t want any more than I have, thank you.
I do think it could be fun to get a hippopotamus for Christmas. I think I’d probably try to figure out a way to donate it to a zoo or something, but I’ve seen hippos on Animal Planet and they seem like a barrel of laughs. A barrel of laughs that can crush you. At least they’re vegetarian.
If I were estranged from my loved one, as some of my friends are, I’m sure I’d want them back home for Christmas. I’m not sure that would be a desire that’s really specific to the holiday, though. Wouldn’t you want your long-distance relationship to be a short-distance one, all the time?
Let it snow? Yes, please! If I were to make a wish about the weather, I think I’d wish for snowfall to start around 7 am on Christmas day. That way, any Santa Clauses who were out doing late night deliveries wouldn’t be slowed down, but after their winter’s naps, they could wake up to a marshmallow world!
I have no desire for multiple amounts of any birds, rings, maids, ladies, lords, pipers or drummers. Nor would I like Santa Baby to bring me any furs (I’m vegetarian!), yachts, duplexes, or jewelry. I wouldn’t mind a convertible or ownership of some precious metals, though. I look good in light blue and I’m not afraid to admit it.
If there were a certain special someone in my life, I’m sure I would tell her, “all I want for Christmas is you.” For the moment, I think I’ll keep that sentiment on my wish list.
As for what I do want, well… I’m not a very emotional, physical contact sort of person. I don’t generally talk much at social gatherings and often want to get away from most of the world to enjoy some peace and quiet. Because of that side of my personality, I don’t connect as well with the people in my life as I might like. So, I want the people I care about to understand that I do really care about them, even if I’m not the best at showing it. That’s what I want. Please pass it on. Ooh, plus a Million Dollars! But not a real green dress — that’s cruel.
Oh, and I also want a Merry Little Christmas, but I’m working pretty hard at it, so I think I’ll be able to give that one to myself.