Holiday stresses have me thinking of drastic remedies to the crazy crush of Christmas.
I’m thinking of becoming a seasonal atheist.
That would solve a lot of problems
The idea occurred to me Monday as I was in line waiting for Christmas stamps behind about 15 other post office strangers. Like me, everyone seemed in a stressed-out, dreary mope.
I didn’t survey the surly but I’ll bet there wasn’t an atheist in the bunch.
Atheists feel no pressure to send Christmas cards.
They don’t pray, fret over proper wrapping paper or worry about who the hell they’re going to offend by chirping “Happy Holidays!” to viewers who get their rage cues from Bill O’Reilly.
Atheists aren’t soldiers in the War on Christmas.
More like conscientious objectors.
I imagine stress-free atheists this time of year reveling in spare time — no obligatory church attendance, no tyrannical travel obligations, no dread fear the holiday channel will spring “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer” on them.
I don’t have any friends that have shared with me they hold atheist beliefs — or is it non-beliefs?
Same goes for Satanists.
Maybe they’re all fearful I’ll start crashing their orgies and embarrass them by using the wrong fork at the post-sex buffet, assuming even orgies observe minimum etiquette standards.
Of course, maximizing my plan would require renouncing not just Jesus, but the other famous guy, the one with the big white beard.
And I don’t mean David Letterman.
Being someone who doesn’t believe in Santa — a Santatheist? — would really go a long way to cutting the season down to size.
Now, everyone who knows me knows this is the part where I’m glad I don’t give my wife a chance to rebut my complaints.
She does it all. She does all the shopping, all the wrapping, all the scheduling, all the driving. Yet she still finds time to listen to me do all the complaining.
But there’s plenty of collateral stress being around anyone who is deservedly stressed.
Taking both Jesus and Santa out of the equation would make the December sprawl-i-days a bit of a breeze, albeit a sub-freezing one.
Think of how much time and money we devote this one month to two beings rational minds view as Christmas fables.
But that’s the beauty of faith and faith wears a dress too revealing to be observed in public.
It’s a trite but true observation about how the message of Christmas gets buried in the secular insanities of bargains, commitments and shrill obligations.
I’m reminded of that every year around this time. I catch myself getting all crabby over things like crowds and traffic.
Maybe I have it all backwards.
Maybe I should become more Christian at Christmas.
Maybe that would help bestow the soulful serenity for things like having to wait in long lines at the post office.
So, no, I won’t be becoming a seasonal atheist.
Why should I risk my the eternal damnation of my ever-lovin’ soul?
That won’t stop me from wishing all the people in line in front of me would risk theirs’.
For all I care, they can all go straight to, well …
Home for the holidays!