I’ve been lost in my annual “Oh My God! It’s the Holiday Season!” depression again, as the heartbreak and horror of Christmas draws near. I’ve been feeling too down and out to write a post of my own, or to read anyone else’s posts here on WordPress for 10 days now.
But today, I just happened to log onto WP and when I looked at my most recent search terms, I saw this one:
“the female the Lord has for me to marry naked”
That isn’t just a search term, that’s a prayer of desperation from some poor love lorn guy who is so sad and lonely, that he has been reduced to searching Google for a sign from the Lord, that somewhere out there, there really is a female just for him, that he can marry and be naked with. I really feel sorry for the guy, and I sincerely hope that his prayer is answered soon, and his Google search for love and naked marriage is successful.
Hey, at least his intentions are honorable, since he made it clear that he wants to marry the female the Lord has for him to be naked with, instead of just wanting to… well, you know what most guys want…
Although when a guy asks the Lord for help to find his very own female who is willing to get naked with him, it’s probably a good idea for him to mention to the Almighty, his intention to marry his female as soon as God helps him find her, and she is willing to say “I do”. I would also suggest that he might want to let the Lord know that he is willing to wait until after the wedding, before getting his female naked… since reading the Bible reveals that God is impressed with that sort of thing, and it might get Him in a more helpful mood to help the guy find his female sooner rather than a lot later. Unless the guy is a devout Unitarian nudist and literally planning on marrying his female naked at an all nude Unitarian wedding. God seems to like the Unitarians well enough, even with their often unconventional ideas about how worship Him, so I think that He would be okay with that.
Which actually makes a lot sense when you think about how much money this would save by not blowing a lot of cash on a wedding gown, tuxedos, and those often gawd awful, never to see the light of day again bridesmaid dresses!
But this online cry of desperation from some 21st century Adam for the Lord to help him find his very own Eve, became the genesis of my realization today that I am a very fortunate man in some vitally important ways. Even if I do suffer a lot from depression during the Holiday Season…
It happens to me every year, and I wish that wasn’t true, but it’s been my reality for many years now.
Me at age three – Christmas, 1959
Okay, my heartbreak and horror of Christmas syndrome didn’t start that early for me, but after it began later in my adult life, it has never stopped since.
Actually, the kid in that photo looks a lot like me at age three, on Christmas Eve of 1959, when Dad was changing a burned out bulb on the lowest string of lights on our Christmas tree. Fascinated by everything my Dad did, I watched his every move. So when he moved away from the empty light socket to reach for another bulb, in less than 5 seconds I reached for the lowest hanging string of lights, and impulsively stuck my little index finger into the empty light socket. I shrieked my little head off as 120 volts of electrical current instantly zapped my finger with a jolt of painful sensation that fired straight up to the pain nerve receptors in my brain, and caused my eyes to go wider than a pair of golf balls as my face turned almost as red as the Christmas light my Dad was trying to replace!
But this early childhood experience has nothing to do my current day dread of Christmas, and it wasn’t nearly as bad as the time during the previous Summer when I “patted” the burner on the kitchen stove, because I really liked that very pretty bright orange glowing color. I screamed louder than an air raid siren, and some of my mother’s very pretty orange red hair instantly turned grey. All of Mom’s pretty orange red hair turned prematurely grey by the time I was ten, and both of my Aunts often said that I was a “difficult” child. But I think that my two older brothers also deserve some of the credit, whatever the rest of my family has to say about it.
Just like many kids, I was really into the whole Christmas trip from an early age. Why not? I had a relatively happy childhood, and for Christmas, I had all the benefits and none of the responsibilities. All I knew was that on Christmas morning, I would wake up to a bunch of colorfully wrapped presents under the Christmas tree, with toys inside for me! What kid wouldn’t love that?
Of course, I would then have to defend my Christmas toys from my two older and bigger brothers, who believed in Natural Selection. Since they were both bigger and stronger than me, my brothers believed it was their natural right to select the best of my Christmas toys and take them away from me.
But I still always fought back, and the resulting Christmas morning riot in our living room had to be quickly and effectively stopped by Dad, who didn’t want a repeat of that Christmas morning when one of our brawls knocked over the Christmas tree, breaking a nearby window when my biggest brother fell through it, and the Christmas tree lights shorted out in a shower of sparks that set the curtains on fire.
But Dad was a very tough man, and all of his hair didn’t turn prematurely grey until all three of us were old enough to drive.
Even back when I was 16 years old, I understood how difficult it was for both of my parents to raise three boys like me and my brothers. So for Christmas in 1972, I got both Mom & Dad very special matching gifts as an expression of my sincere gratitude.
It was also a sincere expression of my 16 year old wise assitude as well…
Sometimes I think that the combined childhood and adolescent history of my brothers and I would make a very compelling argument for more cautious family planning, and my own history in particular, should be a serious warning for parents to not risk tossing the chromosomal DNA dice a third time, after getting two very difficult boys, with the hopes of getting a girl. Instead of getting the much hoped for daughter, my parents got a third son who was even more difficult than the two preceding boys.
As soon as I was old enough to walk, I had the climbing ability of a chimpanzee, and there was no such thing as something safely out of my reach. My mother knew that the only way to keep me away from dangerous things was to hide them from me, where I could never find them. Which still didn’t stop me from riding my tricycle down a full flight of stairs and crashing my head hard on the concrete floor of our basement. But… in spite of my Mom’s horror and all her most fervent prayers, I lived… and I made a complete recovery, despite what some of my relatives say, because my head injury had nothing to do with anything, since I was born that way to begin with.
Picture of me before the accident…
I think I turned out just fine, with no permanent damage done to my head. Or at least not to my little head… Lol ;-)
No, instead, my little head did some permanent damage when I was 22 years old and I accidentally impregnated my girlfriend, who became my first wife, and our union produced the daughter that my mother fervently hoped for, but never got to have. My first wife became my ex-wife six years later, but I hold no blame against her since I know that our faults were equally to blame for the failure of our marriage.
Hey Mom? In spite of what I’ve heard you say so many times, I have proof from my own parental experience that girls are not easier than boys. Girls just present a whole range of different problems than boys do. Little girls really are full of sugar and spice and everything nice… until they turn 13 and then all hell breaks loose!
Which doesn’t mean that I don’t love my little girl dearly, who now at age 32, has grown into a fine young woman, in spite of inheriting or learning by example many of both her mother’s and my own most “difficult” personality traits. This is one of many reasons why I’m all the more proud of the mature and well adjusted young woman my daughter has become, and also proof that she got some of our better traits as well.
So why do I get a severe case of the Holiday Season down and out blues every year, until the heartbreak and horror of Christmas is safely behind us once again for another year?
I do have my reasons, and trust me when I say that you don’t want know, because if I told you, I know that you’d understand all too well why this time of year always gets me down and out.
So rather than me spreading my holiday season blues, when I know lots of other people suffer from the same problem just as much as I do, and some folks have it far worse… let me leave you with something positive instead.
Man, I really hope this works… And of course it’s not working, cause “tis the effing season!” But let me try again…
And over half an hour later, I think it works!
In any case, Happy Holidays to all you WordPressers, and a very Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it! :-)
Click on this to play, and hopefully it will work for you!