By Logan Hawkes Oh, okay! I’ve had my moment of grumpiness about the fast approaching holiday. I have mumbled under my breath when stores started putting up Christmas decorations before I could buy my last minute Halloween candy. I admit it - the holidays are one big shop fest whereby the economic machine gets oiled while most of us get another tie or pair of socks to wear into the spring season. But alas! I have had a change of heart. I have made a conscious decision. This year, I’m bringing the holidays home to me!That’s right. I’m going to enjoy the holidays without worrying about getting caught up in the mess of liquid commercialism. It’s fine with me if the stores make money. It’s okay if the malls get packed and the roads are overcrowded with holiday shoppers. It’s not going to matter that my neighbor has better Christmas lights than I do, or that the other neighbor has none at all. I don’t care if I get more ties or socks, or nothing at all. I have decided that this year, I’m oblivious to what others think or do. I’m not going to criticize the guy who goes all out to celebrate, or the guy that refuses to acknowledge the season. I’m not going to care whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Ramadan (which ended in October), Diwali (Hindu New Year), or Yule of the Solstice. This year, the holidays belong to me, and I plan to do them a little different this year. Why not you? Look - if stringing lites or decorating trees or serving up huge turkey dinners are not your thing, okay. But why not “let loose” a little and live? Put the crabbiness away, if but for a sngle season. Leave the sarcasm at home. Refrain from making gestures during peak traffic hours. Be tolerant when the lady in front of you in the check out line is buying a dozen stocking stuffers and paying for them with coins (afterall, there’s a reason for that). Last time I checked it didn’t kill anybody to put on a little smile - even a fake one - and something like “happy holidays”, or “what a great day.” Sure - maybe your day isn’t great. Maybe you’re tired of all the hype and the holiday music over the public address system. Maybe you just don’t want be anyone’s secret santa this year. Fine. But how about keeping it to yourself, just this once? You know, the older I get the more I realize that everything is numbered. Hey - it’s a fact. We get so many years; so many days, just so many holidays -- and that’s it. And I well remember my young years when the holidays meant a great deal. It was an exciting time. It felt good and warm and inviting. Heck, there was a day when I actually enjoyed hearing all those holiday tunes; I enjoyed seeing distant relatives that we didn’t often find the time to visit. I remember how much I loved the hot chocolate and the smell of the Christmas tree. I remember gathering around the TV set after Thanksgiving dinner to watch the Cowboys play the Lions or the 49ers. I remember getting a $2 bill in a card from my poor widowed aunt who I knew didn’t have the money to be sending all her nieces and nephews any money - and I loved her for it. I can even remember a leaner year or two when we decorated the tree with popcorn and cranberries, and enjoyed it even more for our effort. I remember the terrible task of stringing lights outside wth Dad - one I dreaded because they usually didn’t work and we had to run down which little bulb was the one that kept them all from shining brightly. And there’s my point. I got to it! It has taken me years of holiday grumpiness to come to realize it, but the truth is, when I choose to dread the holidays; when I cringe at the thought of all the commercialization of the holiday, I think about those lights that didn’t work. I think about that dreaded task of finding the bad light in order to make all the lights shine. I remember handing Dad one little light bulb at a time as I watched him patiently and diligently work through the strand until he found the one that didn’t work, Dad is gone now, though the lights are still balled up somewhere in the attic - or some just like them. Mom is gone too, along with her many labors of love in a hot kitchen or behind the wheel as she chaffuered us around to make a our gift purchases or to the school where we were (unwillingly perhaps) scheduled to appear in the Christmas play. Somehow those grand memories have been clouded over with the ever pressing responsibilities of adulthood and the need to work, work, work to pay the bills and get ahead. And like a callous you often get from digging too much with a shovel, life takes its toll on the spirit, it hardens us. We get busy. We grow up and must face the problems not just of our family and our neighborhoods, but of the world. We are constantly bombarded with active schedules, extra hours at work, volunteer service at school or church or with the lcoal civic club. We forget what is was like to feel and smell and live in the moment of the holidays. We forget the joys of family and special food and great friends. We fail to realize, too often, that when this holiday season is over, there is one less we will ever get to see; to experience. Dad had it right. It might be a bit of pain each year to get those old lights out and string them around the porch or the roofline. No doubt one or two or more of the bulbs will be burned out and the search will begin to find the bad bulb and replace it with the new, so our lights can shine! Not for the neighbors and how cool it may look from their front yard. Not for the Jones next door because their lights always look so good. The lights would shine because it represented the glow in our hearts over the holiday season. Like wearing your heart on your sleeve, our lights and decorations around the house were nothing more than a statement to the world that we -- the family inside the house -- were alive for the season; that we wished everyone the same joy that we were feeling, the same excitement about taking the time to conciously observe that something special was going on in the world. It was a time to forgive and forget, a time to wish the best for others and strive to enjoy life with the ones that really count, our own family and friends. So the message, for me, was not to be the burned out bulb that kept the beautiful string of lights from casting out their message of happiness and joy. It has become clear to me that my negatives can and do affect others around me, and not just friends and family, but the clerks at the store, the motorists on the road, the shoppers in the mall. I can choose to be a Scrooge, to keep my light from shining, and I can grovel in my own self misery. Or I can resolve to turn the lights on and shine. That doesn’t mean I need to put up the best decorations. It doesn’t mean I have to feel or believe the same as everyone else. What it does mean is that I realize I am part of this human race like it or not. And if the world wants to celebrate with a little holiday cheer, who am I to spoil it for others. So this year, I am going to replace that burned out bulb and turn the lights on. I am going to keep my grumpiness to myself as much as possible, and strive to be warm hearted and friendly, to recapture those childhood moments when the stars seemed to twinkle so brightly in the winter sky, and the smell of fresh popcorn filled the air to my delight. Regardless your station in life and regardles whether this year finds you in a positive or negative financial state, it doesn’t cost anything to smile and express a warm greeting to a neighbor or coworker. It doesn’t cost anything to be a volunteer in a food bank or toys for kids campaign. And my doctor assures me it’s not going to be bad for my health if I smile more than usual. How about you? Is there any kid left in you? Can you reach down deep and put aside your prejudices about the holidays - just for one year? You might be surprised! The holidays, I remember, can be a grand time of year. So this season, replace your light bulb and shine.