t’s become a cliché to complain about the Christmas ads that seem to start earlier and earlier every year. But indulge me in a brief complaint because I think holiday ads have something to tell us about how The Principles can help us enjoy this time of year rather than becoming cynical.
Halloween seems to be the new Thanksgiving when it comes to kicking-off the relentless merchandising of Christmas. This year, I began to notice sneaky little references to Christmas floating around the ghosts and goblins. Then, at the beginning of November, all bets were off as the media became saturated with red and white holiday marketing.
Here in Los Angeles, Christmas always seems a little artificial: all the more so when it arrives so early that the temperatures are still in the 90s. Not to be dissuaded, LA hauls out the holiday tricks. At The Grove, a luxury outdoor mall, hidden machines create a gentle snowfall every hour on the hour even while most customers are still wearing shorts and tank tops. On Rodeo Drive, huge Baccarat crystal chandeliers are hung in lieu of more traditional decorations.
The media is besotted with visions of holiday dollars dancing into cash registers. Beginning early in November, one notices an unwelcome change on the radio as favorite stations begin to insert holiday songs into their playlists. Television networks begin to fill up with holiday specials and, of course, there is the relentless blizzard of over-produced Christmas ads.
Christmas ads have an aura all their own. They present us with some idealized Christmas that few of us have ever experienced – the soft darkness of twilight, roaring fires, a perfect suburb where the Cape Cod-style houses are perfectly decorated, and everything is bathed in a golden glow. And all of this good cheer is, of course, intended to put us in a mood to buy, buy, buy.
This year I found myself becoming even more cynical than usual about the commercial nature of Christmas. And then I realized that I was only hurting myself. The world is not going to change because of my moaning and groaning. Media conglomerates are not going to give up on commercializing Christmas. And, once again, I am presented with the realization that the only thing I can change is myself. In other words…surrender.
So I am surrendering to a commercialized Christmas. I choose to be happy. I will hum along to the unwanted Christmas carols on the radio. I will allow my gaze to go soft as I watch another Coca-Cola holiday ad. My mouth will water during the endless Food Network specials on holiday cookie making. And I will let myself be happy standing in a fake snowstorm next to the Gap at a mall in Los Angeles.
