Now that Starbucks has officially declared war on Christmas by using a solid red-colored paper cup, I can now personally report that, in fact, the War on Christmas may soon be over.
A few weeks ago, I drifted into a Starbucks looking for my usual ninth coffee and a warm place to cadge some Wi-Fi. Instead of a War on Christmas, I was practically blocked from entering or finding a place to sit because about four Starbucks barista/elves were unpacking Christmas decorations.
I guess the War on Christmas must have had a cease-fire at that particular store.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I like Christmas as much as the next person. I put up a tree, buy presents and generally go along with the concept. I even feel some small middle-aged glimmer of something in my grinchy cartoonist heart on Christmas Eve.
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Without advertising this as an original observation, Big Christmas, as practiced by retailers, really is accidentally working against the Army in Favor of Christmas.
Can we just start it on Dec. 1? Not the day after Thanksgiving. No Black Friday. Not the week before Black Friday. Just say Dec. 1, and we can all agree that it’s a perfectly fine date. December is truly a Christmassy-sounding month, too. Dec. 15 sounds even better.
Driving through East Sacramento, I noted someone had put their Christmas lights up on Nov. 8. These were not leftover Halloween lights; this was a full-on Christmas Holiday Tableau Wonderland of Festive Yuletide Fun. You know who you are, on a main drag.
The trouble with this early Christmas bonanza is the same trouble with this annoying presidential campaign that we’re already physically revolted by, fully one year out from Election Day 2016. In Canada, they’ve just concluded a parliamentary election that our northern neighbors complained (politely) lasted 78 whole days.
Every time I hear about the War on Christmas, I pass a little Starbucks through my nostrils, because I know that there isn’t any stinkin’ War on Christmas.
Christmas has declared war on us.
And it’s got to stop. A negotiated surrender, a demilitarized zone, peacekeepers from the U.N., anything but this insane holiday onslaught.
This isn’t a religious thing with me. It’s a taste and aesthetics thing. Particularly since I have lived in California, it’s really hard to get myself cranked up in the Christmas spirit since I have experienced the holiday in truly brutal festive holiday climates, like Minneapolis, Detroit and Columbus.
Jack Frost doesn’t nip at your nose in those places. He eats your nose, raw, in one swipe. And you’d better have electric socks, a headbolt heater, a valid AAA card, and have paid your electric bill on time, because otherwise, you could die.
If anyone really thinks that there’s a War on Christmas, write me and I will tell you personally that I have electronically eavesdropped on the War on Christmas People’s State Central Committee planning sessions, and they are highly disorganized.
“Sir! We’ve just completed a full satellite photographic analysis of the War on Christmas, and we are completely outmanned.”
“That’s insane, lieutenant. Everyone knows our Kenyan Socialist Community Organizer Radical Agitprop is wiping Christmas off the face of the United States, plus, we’ve taken Starbucks already, and we’ve wiped any mention of Christmas off their cups.”
“Sir, I can safely say that our opponent is about to drop the Big One.”
“Oh, God, lieutenant. Not the …”
“Yes, sir. They’re piping the Charlie Brown Christmas music into all the Starbucks. They’ll take it back by nightfall.”
“Better order me a triple shot espresso. We can’t sleep. We’ve got a lot more fighting to do.”