The Christmas Letter

I used to be good at this. Award-winning, even. At least, that's what they tell me. Granted, "they" are biased, of course, being mostly relatives and a few good friends. And OK, it was one of my uncles who gave me the "Best Christmas Letter" award that one year, paying my way into Universal Studios on one of our family's last summer vacations.

So I haven't sent Christmas cards out for some time. I thought of just sending cards — no letter — but it felt like cheating. Consequently, it's been several years since I've actually chosen a quality greeting card (I have standards, you know), written and edited down a witty letter that fits on one page — BTW... why is that hard for me to do? I'm not married, have no kids or even a pet, for crying out loud! — physically written the greetings and addressed those envelopes, slapped on those stamps (sometimes the holiday sort), and dumped them in a nearby blue monster.

All bias aside, I think my Christmas letters are at least a good read. I think the last letter I actually did write and send out — with a card and everything — contained the tale of how I got a six-foot-plus Christmas tree into my car then into my less-than-six-foot-plus, second-floor apartment almost entirely all by myself. (See what you've been deprived of?)

What I have done almost every year is compose the Christmas letter. How could I not? Between my many address shifts, my ever-changing job duties, my series of somewhat unfortunate events, and ever-frequent clumsy adventures, I can't NOT write one. In my head, at least. Except I rarely have shared it with others — actually written it down and disseminated it. Weird, since that sort of thing is really my bread and butter.

In my defense, weak as it may be, I have written many witty Christmas letter sentences in my head. I've even designed my own card. Had that puppy ready to go last Christmas... or was it the Christmas before? Same difference.

It's a good card, I think, and I'd like to promise that this year, I'll deliver it. But circumstances will conspire against me yet again, I'm almost positive of it: Moving into a new apartment in the middle of December — a mere two weeks from now and just a week before I head to Nebraska to spend Christmas week with my family — seems likely to seal the fate of this year's Christmas letter.

Maybe I should blog my Christmas letter this year. Facebook it. Keep with times, and all that. I considered just sending it out over e-mail last year. Almost had myself talked into it: "It's 2007! Why aren't more Christmas letters sent electronically?! Besides, it's the thought that counts, right?"

Yeah, whatever. Nothing substitutes the hand-signed, hand-addressed or even hand-delivered Christmas card. In truth, I hope — and am pretty certain — nothing ever will.

In case you don't hear from me: Have a Merry Christmas and very happy 2009.

The Angry Voter

Working for a newspaper, I'm usually pretty jazzed about Election Day, especially when the presidency is in play. The day seems so full of promise, not just from an ideological standpoint, but in how we, as journalists, get to figure out how best to tell the day's story and stand as a record of that moment — especially when that moment becomes historical.

Today, days later, I can reflect on the awe of witnessing and recording history. But that morning, before and after putting my ballot in the box, I didn't feel like much of a patriot or purveyor of the ideals of democracy. I was just angry.

I didn't like my options, and I felt like my vote didn't really matter in California anyway; our state so decidedly leftist that John McCain's camp tactically blew it off.

And I was angry.

I felt like the nation as a whole didn't really have a real choice, and that states like California had even less options. I felt like no matter what mark I made on my ballot, my state had turned blue well before I got there to have my say.

And I was angry.

At some point during the campaign, a friend of mine suggested the only vote a Californian can truly make for change is to pick Bob Barr — that whether you liked him or not, a Barr vote would help non-mainstream candidates gain legitimacy in the next round, maybe even get a seat at the debate table.

Take a second and imagine that kind of change...

So... but... these were my options? Making an unlikely run at shaking up the two-party system? Casting another Kool-Aid ballot for all-talk Barack? Signing up for McCain 2.0, a much less independent version of the "maverick" he used to be?

I was angry.

And it didn't stop with the presidential race. It trickled down into the local contests, and even the propositions festered frustration. Like Prop. 2: You mean I actually have to decide whether a chicken gets to see grass or whether I want to run a greater risk of salmonella on a dozen eggs I would pay upwards of $4 for?

Seriously? These are my options?

Normally, I would dress up a little on Election Day, not knowing who might be making appearances in the newsroom. But this time around, I didn't care. I opted for comfort expecting the work day would drag on well into the night.

So I put on my angry jeans, thinking: "F**K IT!" And I laced up my Keens in a rage, thinking: "My finances suck. Gas prices will soar again any day now, and we'll see more layoffs before the holidays arrive. Congress bailed out the banks with a big side of pork, all on the backs of taxpayers. ... I'M NOT VOTING FOR A SINGLE INCUMBENT TODAY. NOT ONE. I DON'T EVEN CARE."

And I meant it. At the time...

Down to the wire, though, I didn't exactly follow through on that threat. I couldn't stomach the alternative in a couple of those contests, and in others, I did think there was something to be said for experience.

So much for change, huh?

Whether Barack's been your guy all along, he's all of ours now. And I really want to be wrong about him, but we've been in this space before... all fired up, demanding action, healing and the affirmation that thousands have not died in vain. Look how that played out.

I'm a cautious optimist at heart, and there's no denying Obama has uplifted many corners of the nation. But right now, I can't see how we're banking on anything more than catch phrases and charismatic speeches — very well-funded ones.

Here's hoping his actions speak louder... and cost less.

—

Just so you all don't think I'm a total cynic, I wanted to post a link to this music video, which I'm sure is well on its way to becoming very overplayed. But, crap, that man can really rally the masses. And if nothing else, after years of Bush's bumbling sound bytes immediately on the heels of Bill's "Southern charm," it will be nice to get some real sophistication back in the Oval Office.

And just for fun, there's this and this, too.

Cheers.