Thanksgiving Leads to Chaos…

One fool’s endless journey into the infernal regions of his own Christmas hell.

Chaos can lead to hate…An all-encompassing hate that drags me kicking and screaming all the way into Christmas. I know this all sounds a bit harsh and overly dramatic, and while I can’t speak for the thousands of us who deliver Christmas one package at a time, it’s true beyond anything you can write about in that cute, little Christmas poem you’re creating for your blog. And unless the Russians or some other cyber terrorists create a long-term solution to shutting down the Internet today,(about a month should do it comrades), this upcoming Cyber Monday will send the chaos into overdrive. And the hatred of Christmas that fuels the darker side of me will be in full bloom like poison ivy on a Boy Scout.

Chaos isn’t the only culprit in my trip to the darker side…frustration, anger, and disgust have their own roles as well. Rarely a morning in December goes by without at least part of that three-headed monster rearing its ugly head; frustration over a situation out of my control; anger at consumerism gone wild; disgust at retailers who have poisoned our world with Black Friday sales that now begin on Brown Thursday?; remember when it was just called Thanksgiving Thursday? And days that now grow dark at 5 P.M. making an already difficult task harder with the absence of daylight. You want even more chaos? Try adding some snow or ice to the roadways, I can promise frustration, anger, and disgust will be fighting it out to see who rides shotgun with me into my personal Dante’s 10th ring of Hell.

There is no doubt in my mind that retailers (and their associated e-commerce websites) combined with the pungent smell of their corporate profitability are responsible for a great deal of the ruination of the Christmas meaning. How many families can say they now spend the time after Thanksgiving eating desert, plowing through store circulars and clipping coupons for in-store only prices? All in the name of cross-referencing and updating their Excel spread sheet with the best door-buster price of the movie Deadpool at Wal-Mart, Kohls, Target or Toys ‘R’ Us. Retailers have trained us well. I suppose we should be happy the retailers let us have most of Thanksgiving dinner to ourselves; starting at 6 PM on Thanksgiving through the month of December, they own our asses.

So as we rush headlong,  financially out of control into Christmas and retail’s upcoming blitzkreig of endless multi-media advertisement and wallet-busting sales, keep one thing in mind; Hell’s coming. I’m coming. And your Christmas presents are coming with me!
Pungent

Santa And the e-Commerce Mutants

A Christmas story of endurance, exhaustion, dedication, and the hope that just maybe somebody will appreciate these over-worked mutants enough to share a plate of holiday cookies.

We were never seen as superheroes like Iron Man or Thor or Captain America even. And we weren’t anti-heroes like Magneto and Wolverine, at least not until November and December. Most of the year the public tolerated our existence, a necessary evil in a consumer driven society. But in those final months of the year, when a certain sled driving, long white beard growing, red suit and hat wearing, overweight, elderly gentleman relished us more than the children of the country would ever know, we became the most tracked people on the Internet, even more than the jolly fat man himself. And possibly the most vilified mutants the world would ever know if we failed in our endeavors.

The jolly fat man asks us to do unspeakable things to compensate for his inadequecies, to work longer hours and more days than even that band of miniature, miserable little toy makers he keeps hidden away up north. We are his e-commerce face, his face to the Internet shopping public, his face to people who couldn’t wait until December 24th for their gifts. The face the shopping public would hate the rest of the year if little Jimmy didn’t get the latest, hottest toy available on-line and delivered on-time. We often grew sick and tired of Santa and his persona, his tricked-out sleigh (compensating for something he is), those vile beasts he calls reindeer (actually caribou), and it showed in our public faces, in our contempt for the mutant beings that him and these 2 months would turn us into. There’s a reason why Santa’s always smiling and it’s because we deflected any of the potential criticism about his so-called world class distribution system. 

Did you ever wonder how white beard does it? How he could fit all that stuff into one tiny sleigh? How he could get a pack of flying reindeer (caribou) to circle the world in one night? What happens when there’s no fireplace? Tim Allen aside, I don’t know about the fireplace trick, but the answer to the first three questions is…he doesn’t. He has lots of help from the mutants who cover large land areas such as the continental United States. Sure, he takes a lot of the small boxes and bags and poses for the publicity photos, but the backbone of his Yuletide network begins with those elves and their old-fashioned little toys, ( why he feels compelled to keep them around is a mystery; how many kids really want a little wooden train or airplane?), and ends on the backs of us, his merry-making mutants. Oh, and Amazon. And of course, loving moms and dads everywhere who relish the idea of him to kids not quite ready to do the math on the possibility of his existence.

I’ll bet you’re asking, what could send a mutant into a rage that would scare even Wolverine or Deadpool? It’s not just one thing, it’s everything. An unappreciative pot-bellied boss who gets all the credit, which yes I’ll admit, that’s a pretty common thing; a buying public (say this next part with all the disdain you can muster) who starts buying in early November and doesn’t stop until the last of the after-Christmas sales; drivers who lack the skills to drive in the snow, yet jump in the car at the first sign of snow; homeowners who insist on decorating every inch of their home, especially the house number and mailbox; daylight savings time and the ensuing lack of daylight; those high-beam lights people shine on their front doors to show off a Christmas wreath and are absolutely blinding if you look at them; all the hard to see electric cords and tie downs used to inflate and hold in place those cheesy Christmas yard decorations  that can easily take a mutant down to the ground; and the most asked questions of the season,”What’s this?”, “Who’s it for?”, “Where’s it coming from?”, “Will you hide it in the garage under that green moldy tarp for me?“, and “Can you come back later, I don’t want my kids to see you, or see you bringing it up to the house?”. 

And then there’s the worse insult a mutant endures. The fire truck Santa Clause. For weeks we freaks work tirelessly delivering Santa’s e-commerce packages, and on the Saturday before Christmas these wannabe Santas show up, driving their trucks down neighborhood streets, working their sirens, and tossing those awful candy canes to any kid who comes running. And they do come running, often ignoring the mutant walking up the driveway with a box containing something they really want. It makes a mutant want to climb up on that fire truck and rip that phony…

…thank the pretend Santa for his courage and service…he is a volunteer fireman after all. And when one of his also-phony elves, who by the way is not wearing the requisite green jacket, red stockings, brown shoes, and hat with a feather in it worn by the union boys up north, offers me a candy cane while blowing cigarette smoke in my face, this mutant has had enough,”No, I don’t want one of your candy canes, what I want you to do is move your truck to the side so I can continue with my 14 hour day!”

So this year, as you’re busy spreading your holiday cheer; please give Santa’s e-commerce mutants a happy thought; because we deliver the Christmas you so relish, and all that stuff you bought.

HO-HO-HO! It’s not just his laugh…it’s item number two on Santa’s after Christmas list of things to do.

Relish