NOISE F.M: William Card
As it does for most families, Christmas is a yearly holiday that inevitably comes. As movies like Elf point out, with age comes pending drainage of the Christmas spirit. With this unfortunate socialization, what’s the point to burning the energy year each year to reverse this unfortunate fact of adult life?
What reminds us of the holidays differs from person to person. Some hang up a string of lights across their windowsill, a wreath on their door, and other innately begin to change their Starbucks order from PSLs to Peppermint Mochas. Me? It usually begins with my string lights. However, half of the bulbs on my strands don’t work, so what would’ve been a magical mood complexion ends up looking like ghetto-rigged illuminated spaghetti.
I was thinking about this column last night in my room of ghetto-rigged spaghetti. I was sitting at my IKEA desk in the corner of my bedroom filled with dozens of posters, plaques, and other historic memorabilia of my own past. If being in a digital design class this semester has taught me anything, it’s helped me develop an anal-retentive tendency to evaluate and critique the tiny decisions that cumulate a whole products. To parlay, the walls of my room look like someone chowed down on the last two years of Westword magazines, and without missing a beat, projectile-vomited in a 360 pattern to coat the walls with stained and crumpled concert and promo posters. Between an upchuck of Porter Robinson and Nathaniel Rateliff lies a small picture of me dressed as a toy soldier from the Nutcracker .
Even though Christmas comes every year, it doesn’t mean the feelings will automatically come with it. As I grew out of being a toy solider, I grew vexed that the spirit wouldn’t return with the calendar date. I vented my frustration to others, and in some years, I just gave up looking for it all-together.
Yet, as I was sitting in my room last night, looking at notes of encouragement others had written to me, this overwhelming sense of gratitude flooded over me. Yes, Christmas comes with a lot of bells and whistles. No, I don’t think the bells and whistles make it a holiday worth celebrating. The search of gratitude— that is a season worth celebrating.