Christmas eve…….

Well, its come and no doubt will soon be gone. It is Christmas Eve here in Japan. This could possibly be my last Christmas in this country-a lot will depend on the breaks in the new year to come. It will not be for lack of trying to stay, but rather on a lack of enlightenment on the part of potential paycheck signers. No matter-whatever is to be is to be-but if I do leave,  it will only be for as long as it takes to get moola and schoola to get back! ( At least to one of the good countries on this side of the date line).

Yesterday  I had to take the S.O. to buy a new vacuum cleaner. The old one had died-the motor chewing itself up with a horrendous shriek. No big deal you say? Well for a woman who is incredibly obsessed with cleaning and sweating the fact that we have company coming for Christmas dinner, this is a huge catastrophe. So off we went to Kojima Electric. For TWO AND A HALF HOURS we looked and looked at vacuum cleaners. Hell, I don’t even spend that long looking at a new car to buy. We must have tried every combination on demo carpets and floors. In the end we settled on a Sanyo that to my mind-was way overpriced. 270 dollars? For a vacuum cleaner? But it was what she wanted.

I’ve been of a very mixed mind this day. I’ve tried to get really psyched about the day, but I just cannot. There is too much weighing on my mind. I think I understand how people can become really depressed during the holiday. Not that I would do anything drastic-were I by myself I would probably find someone equally as lonely and shag the stuffing out of her, failing that just watch old movies, drink my self insensible and maybe stagger to Mass at midnight. Since none of those options are available tonight, I’ve settled for some melancholy blogging and probably some TV watching later. Even the gift giving aspect has been mostly ruined this year. The S.O. knows what most of her gifts are-I can’t even surprise her with some nice jewellery since she badgered me into taking her to buy the one she wanted. All attempts to be nice and sweet ultimately succumb to the selfish instincts that are always just below her surface. Not her fault really-I think its part of the female Nihonjin genome.

Plus I marvel at the irony of where the world is today. I remember 8 years ago being in front of the TV watching the speculation of what the new century was supposed to bring. Technology was supposed to be improving our lives, freedom was supposed to be on the march and mankind was supposed to be making progress. Now, eight years later, mankind still digs raw material out of the earth, turns it into machinery of incredible death and destruction, uses it to perform that very art-and then the practitioners of that art wrap it up in  some sort of higher purpose.  All sides wrap it up in some lie about how moral it is. The Deity whose son’s birth we are celebrating, for another year declines to intervene and put a stop to it. Sadly, I think 2008 is going to be like 2007-basically an ongoing rerun of the year 2001. Americans will argue over petty things ad infinitum and no one of real substance will be nominated to run any of the important governments in the world.

Twas always thus, however.  Which points up, in my opinion why Christmas is very necessary to the human existence. Christmas is about hope and it is about reflection. About reminding yourself what is really important and what is just BS. I think the need to have this type of catharsis is why non-Christian nations have come to decorate and celebrate Christmas in their own ways. Yes, the commercial piece is there-which is why Japanese are flocking to KFC’s, patisseries for Christmas Cake and couples all over Japan are standing in the cold at train stations nation wide seeking out their dates. ( As I pointed out last year, Christmas in Japan is sort of a second Valentines Day.)

The New Year will come and then it will quickly be back to business as usual. Without this little excursion into the emotional,  the changing of the year would be too much to bear.

So enjoy your day! I hope that each and all receive some sort of blessing on the day and that there is some event or gift which brings a smile.

For some reason today I have been thinking about this story, The Gift of the Magi by O Henry. Della and James have much to teach each of us and its always nice to read about young lovers who are still wrapped up in the ideals of love-unsullied by the bruises and scars that life deposits along the way to old age.  I went and re-read the story today and it remains, for me, just as fresh and exciting as the first time I read it-in middle school- a long time ago and in a land full of fat women, far away.

When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends–a mammoth task.

Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.

“If Jim doesn’t kill me,” she said to herself, “before he takes a second look at me, he’ll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do–oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?”

What can you do? The popular media makes it seem easy to live your dreams, to radically change your life, to pick up and go to the place you dream of in your heart. Would that were really so, I’d be sipping Scotch right now, looking out the window on to Victoria Harbor and preparing to go down the Travelator later on in the evening. With each passing year the options diminish and the weight of what you thought were seemingly minor decisions rises up to smite you down.

Truth is, the folks who write those tales, have their bills paid and are not crushed by debt and by outside emotional baggage.

“You say your hair is gone?” he said, with an air almost of idiocy.

“You needn’t look for it,” said Della. “It’s sold, I tell you–sold and gone, too. It’s Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered,” she went on with sudden serious sweetness, “but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?”

Put something on and take the man in your arms and kiss him. God knows he-and all of us long suffering men deserve some sort of affection-be it real or imagined. That too needs to come in greater quantities, but women never seem to realize that.

“Dell,” said he, “let’s put our Christmas presents away and keep ’em a while. They’re too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on.”

The magi, as you know, were wise men–wonderfully wise men–who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

Merry Christmas!