all i want for chrismahanukwanzakah...

It all started two weeks ago, when I brought in my 50s jukebox radio into the shop to listen to 94.9 Mix FM, the 24-hour Christmas station. Not only did the radio add a certain savoir faire to the shop, but the Christmas jingles that jingled out, put everyone in a very, merry, festive mood. That is, all but Ashley.

Growing up near the Mexican border, Ashley and her family weren’t all that big on Christmas carols. In fact, besides the gift giving part of Christmas, Ashley and her family weren’t all that big on Christmas, period. Which is why she rolled her eyes the moment, the moment Barry Manilow came on the radio. But to be fair, it was Barry Manilow. Even I have rolled my eyes more than once at that botox bewilderment. Still, I couldn’t understand what was so bad with Christmas music altogether. Was it the catchy lyrics? Was it the message of the songs? Or was it that most of the songs had over 11 verses that just seemed to go on and on and on and on? Ashley didn’t seem to know herself, just that whenever she heard someone sing, “Deck the halls…” she felt like decking the singer.

It was actually kinda sad that Ashley became irked by Christmas carols, when in reality, they were supposed to have the opposite effect on people’s spirits. Christmas songs were supposed to be festive and joyous as they filled your heart with Christmas spirit. At least that’s what I understood from those old Rankin and Bass Holiday special cartoons. I had to find some way to turn Ashley’s bah, humbug into a fa-la-la-la songbug. Ok, that metaphor sucked, but at least you get what I’m saying.

As I tried to think up of ways to get Ashley into the Christmas spirit, I realized things weren’t much better at home. Nobody wanted to trim the Christmas tree, or the house for that matter. My mother complained about opening boxes of Christmas memorabilia collected over the years, while my father was off on another one of his rants about how much Christmas would cost him this year and whatnot. Then my brothers were off on some idiotic, ego trip, thinking they were way too old and way too cool to stay at home and watch classic Christmas cartoons while drinking hot cocoa . Was I the only one filled with the Christmas spirit this year or what?

It was like a cheesy Christopher Columbus movie where it was my responsibility to save Christmas before midnight or else the holiday itself, along with humanity, would cease from existing. But with my finals just around the corner I didn’t have time to save the world. Hell, some days, I didn’t even have time to color coordinate my shirt to my jacket.

But then last week, a call came through the flower shop that changed my entire perspective about Christmas. The law offices of Weinstein and Berger asked Alice and I if we could deck their lobby with boughs of holly and other gay apparel. And in keeping with traditional style, Alice and I went all out, trimming the tree with bright and colorful accessories and the stairwell with fresh, green garland. In a mere matter of minutes, we turned a drab and dreary law office into a Christmas wonderland that was fab and cheery. And just as we were hanging a giant wreath on the stairwell, Mr. David Weinstein stepped out of his office and asked why we had failed to represent the other December holidays. Most obviously and notably, Hanukkah.

Well, Mr. Weinstein, the answer was actually quite simple. During a staff meeting, earlier that week, when the office was trying to decide how their lobby would be decorated for their annual Christmas party, Mr. Weinstein had no opinion whatsoever. But there he was, the unmistakable voice of menorahs and kosher chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil. And so Mr. Weinstein asked if we could add a giant menorah with hanging stars of David and wrap the stairwell with blue and silver ribbon, all for just twenty bucks. Now, far be it from me to perpetuate the stereotype that certain religious groups are cheap, but come on! Twenty bucks? The singing and dancing Rabbi hamster at Walgreens, alone, was $9.99.

And just when I was about to tell Alice that Hanukkah wasn’t even a big deal until it came to the U.S. and Jewish kids began to wonder why they didn’t get any gifts during Winter Break, the subject of Kwanzaa came up. If we were gonna celebrate the Festival of Lights, why not include the First Fruits of the Harvest? Would the Black community be offended if fruit was not scattered sporadically around the office? I didn’t know and honestly, I really didn’t care. I mean, Alice and I already used the entire budget that the law office would allow us to use, and with just twenty bucks more and nothing else, creating an entire atmosphere that would appease everyone with different religious and cultural backgrounds seemed so exhausting.

Not to sound like a modern day Archie Bunker, but seriously, when did saying, “Merry Christmas,” to people passing, as children were laughing, become so passé? Why did we have to change everything and get so political? They say if it aint broke, don’t fix it, so why couldn’t we just leave well enough alone? And if I’m not able to get into the Christmas spirit, how am I supposed to get everyone else in the mood?

the religion of toys

Some people have asked me what kind of topics do Madelaine and I discuss in our Religion in Pop Culture class. The answer to that is many. We've found the religious aspect in rap music and dieting. We've made connections to God and comic books. And we've seen how modern heroes, like the Tejano music star Selena, can reach "saint-like" status within a matter of days. Leaving us with the final thought, no matter what your religious background or beliefs are, God is truly alive and well. And he's living right amongst in our pop culture.

Which is why, I'm posting my final presentation. Kinda like a tribute to all I've learned from Mrs. Speidel this past semester.


Toys. We've heard of them. We know of them. We have them. It's an object meant to be played with. Usually, for the most part, toys are associated with children, but it's not uncommon for animals to have them and even a few adults. If you know what I mean. Toys, and play in general, are an important and necessary part of the process of learning about the world and growing up. Children use toys and play as part of their education to discover their gender identity, help their bodies grow strong, learn cause and effect, explore relationships, and practice skills they will utilize as adults. But who knew they shared a relationship with religion in general?



The origin of toys is prehistoric. Dolls, animals, soldiers and miniature representations of the tools adults used, made from materials found in nature, such as rocks, wood, grass, and clay are always found at archaeological sites, In Ancient Greece, when Greek children came of a certain age, it was customary for them to sacrifice their toys from their childhood to the gods.


And while they weren't burning their toys, the Greeks were busy searching for Jews who were learning the Torah. According to popular myth, the Jews devised a toy that could double as both a game and a teaching tool, also known as a dreidel. A dreidel is a four-sided top, played with during the Jewish holiday of Hanukkah. It was used by the Jews who played with it in order to fool the Greeks if they were caught studying the Torah, which had been outlawed.

Such is the power of toys. Toys have been even used to predict the future.

In Korean culture, a baby's first birthday is celebrated with a great ceremony. The mother and father lay several objects and toys in front of the baby and whatever the baby reaches out for, supposedly predicts what skills the child will excel in, in the future.


And while toys were busy predicting the future, they are also being used for work. Between the Dark Ages & the Middle Ages, when children were old enough to play they were taught how to work and use weapons and tools.


In the mid-17th century, a wave of religious reform, caused Oliver Cromwell, a Puritan to enforce an Act of Parliament banning Christmas celebrations and Holy Days, all over England. Cromwell, believed it was his mission to cleanse the country of decadence, the reason being that Christmas and Sundays were wasteful festivals that threatened core Christian beliefs. Not surprisingly, the ban was hugely unpopular and many people continued to celebrate these days in secret. Including children. Toy manufacture's came up with the idea of religious toys, like Noah's Ark, so children could still play with toys while learning their Bible lessons.

As technology changed and civilization progressed to what it is today, toys also changed. They were now mass-produced, making them cheaper to make and cheaper to buy in stores. Parents could now spend their money on printed instructional toys that would aid learning and morality, such as pictorial alphabet cards, dissected map puzzles, books and board games.


In the 1890's, when spiritualism was a big fad, someone came up with the idea of communicating with the dead using a small piece of wood, called a "planchette." William and Isaac Fuld cashed in on the idea, and in 1892, they patented the Ouija board. A Ouija board is used to predict the future, but according to Parker Brothers, the Ouija board is simply a game, but to believers, it's much more. It wasn't until World War I that it became a big success because it was used to keep in touch with loved ones who'd been sent into battle. Since then, Ouija board sales have boomed during times of war.


Some toys have the power to influence people. Building blocks can influence future architects.


Model dinosaurs influence can future paleontologists.


Even dolls possess a certain je nais se quais that have the power to influence people greatly.

Cindy Jackson, an average run-of-the-mill girl from Indiana was influenced when she received her first Barbie doll. To Cindy, Barbie was the epitome of glamour and happiness, an icon to be worshipped. In 1988, she was left a small inheritance which enabled her to begin having cosmetic surgery. Cindy used the money to transform herself, with nine surgeries, into a real-life walking, talking Barbie Doll.

According to Cindy, "from an early age I had been made aware of all the things about my appearance that could be improved."


Her extreme makeover influenced Tim Whitfield-Lynn, who changed his name to Miles Kendall, and between both of them, they spent over $300,000 in cosmetic surgery to become the world's first "real life" Ken and Barbie. But Cindy and Mile's extreme lifestyle isn't the only controversy brought on by toys.


In fact toys have even caused quite a stir in recent events. A month ago, during a recent toy drive, the Marine Reserves' Toys for Tots program turned down a company's offer to donate 4,000 Bible-quoting, talking dolls. Bill Grein, vice president of Marine Toys for Tots Foundation, said the offer was turned down because Toys for Tots doesn't know anything about the religious affiliations of the children who receive its gifts.

"We can't take a chance on sending a talking Jesus doll to a Jewish family or a Muslim family," Grein said Tuesday. "Kids want a gift for the holiday season that is fun," yet on the company's website, their mission is stated as: The objectives of Toys for Tots are to help needy children throughout the United States experience the joy of Christmas.

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And in keeping with the Holiday Spirit, some toys are in fact, regarded as holy relics. A must-have for the toy enthusiast, who will stop at nothing to have the hottest, doe-eyed, furryiest, plushest toy of the season adorning the bottom of their Christmas tree, believing this inanimate object can bring peace and goodwill to all mankind. Or at least to their families. And I should know...I'm one of them!

fall into the job

A month ago, my friend Martha's mother was addmited to Sacred Grace. She had been sick for some time and the doctors believed it would be best if she spent the next several weeks at their facility. Which meant, Christmas this year would include nurses and the smell of lemon lysol. It was easy to see why Martha wanted this Christmas to be fabulous, but of course, with fabulous being the price that it is, she could barely afford wonderful. Which is why she asked me two weeks ago, if I would go to the mall with her and apply for a seasonal job.

The first, and well, really, only, place we went to was Gap. Our friend Rachel worked there, so we figured Martha was a total shoe-in. While Martha filled out her application with detailed dedication, I filled out mine with bullshit answers. When asked what I liked most about the Gap, I wrote, "No one does fashion on a budget like Gap. Very reasonable for great separates," and under Any Felonies I wrote, "Dear God, I hope not!" We turned the applications in, with Martha praying for at least an interview and me praying they werent out of pretzel bites at Pretzel Time.

Four days later, I got a call from Gap asking to come in the following Monday for an interview. I was utterly befuddled. Why was my application chosen? I mean, if they liked what I wrote, then surely they would also give my friend Martha a call. But sadly, they didnt.

I couldnt understand why. Martha's application was far better than mine and it was she that needed the job, not me. But as I thought more about it, I realzied a part of me wanted the job too. I mean, Martha did have a point. Fabulous did come at a price and with the employee discount, my bank account wouldnt look so sad and low. I could choose all my own clothes as I helped the customers. In a way, I would actually be getting paid to go shopping. So I went in for the interview.

Betty, the hiring manager, fell in love with me. I had retail experience and worked during the holidays before, so I already knew what was expected of me. And then I was the only one to make Betty laugh when I told her how I once picked out an outfit for my guidance counselor when she went on Oprah, after she got fired from my high school for posing in a porno magazine and she said...well, I guess you just had to be there. My interview with Betty was actually the best interview I had ever had. Normally, when applying for something, I get all tongue-tied, my palms get all sweaty and I get so nervous that I might say the wrong thing that sometimes, I do end up doing the wrong thing. But maybe it was because this job wasnt as important to me as other jobs were, that I was at ease the entire time. After I left, I realized I did wanna work with someone like Betty. I just didnt know how I was gonna tell Martha.

Two days later, I decided instead of waiting by the phone to see if I had been hired, I would go to the mall. That's when I saw Betty on the store phone, with her blue folder on hand. She was making the calls! I sat outside the store, on the malls conviently hidden maroon leather chairs, watching Betty and waiting for my call. An hour later, with still no call, Debbie made her last call and walked to the back of the store. She had hired everybody that she wanted to and I wasnt one of them. Serves me right. It didnt matter that I had a great interview or that I was able to make Betty laugh. What mattered was that I should've just told Martha the truth. I should've just been upfront about the whole thing and should've just been honest. At least that's what I think karma was trying to tell me.

And while karma was busy teaching me a lesson, I decided since I was already at the mall I should buy myself a little happy. But I couldnt. I didnt feel like buying happy. I felt like buying a drink. And as I walked to my car, I passed the Gap store again, knowing it would be a while before I ever walked back in. And that's when I saw Betty walking right towards me.

BETTY: David! Hi!
ME: Oh...hey.
BETTY: David, I have a question to ask you. Did you put your cell number on your application?
ME: Yeah.
BETTY: Ok, good!
ME: Why?
BETTY: Because you got the job. Do you want it?
ME: Shut up.

Ok, so maybe telling my new boss to shut up, wasnt the best first words to say, but I really couldnt believe what I was hearing. Especially, when she told me how much I would be making an hour. And so I took the job offer. I felt somewhat exhilarated. Maybe I belonged out there, among the bright spotlights and cashmere cardigans of Gap. But if so, then why cant I tell my friend Martha?