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.