-
Dear Yanks, Steal This Holiday
It’s early Wednesday morning, the 27th of December, and the Christmas Holiday has just come to an end. (Why now; what about Tuesday? Patience, I’ll get to that.)
Wind and rain sound in the darkness outside my window, but the Christmas Holiday was mild—warm at times—and dry. Even though it wasn’t officially Christmas, Saturday kicked everything off. We went to London for the day to see the festivities, go to a play, and have dinner. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were both cozy, low-key days, spent enjoying the quiet.
Yesterday, Boxing Day, we visited Wakehurst Gardens in the morning,
wandered into town in the afternoon to see the display of old vehicles,
and walked along West Street to Tsk Tsk at all the open stores.
Viewing the open stores gives rise to a lot of head shaking and comments that start, “When I was a little girl…” Now, I wish to make it clear that I am not now, nor was I ever, a little girl, but my wife was (it’s true, I’ve seen photos) and she assures me that Boxing Day used to be pretty much like Christmas Day, but without the presents. It was taken seriously back then, but these days, even Christmas Day isn’t taken as seriously as Christmas Day.
As much as I would enjoy descending into a “These kids today…” ramble, I will set that aside in favour of advising you Americans to steal the Boxing Day holiday from us.
We won’t mind, really. It’s not as if we haven’t taken a few of yours, so it’s only fair.
In my experience—as a boy and a family man—Christmas, in the US, went something like this:
- Up at stupid o’clock, either as a child waking your parents, or as a parent being awakened by your offspring.
- Open gifts, have breakfast, play with toys, break a few (this can occur in whatever order your family traditions dictate).
- Off to your in-laws for a full-scale, Christmas dinner (say, 1:00 pm), complete with turkey and cranberry sauce, stuffing, ham and pineapple, gravy, potatoes—mashed, roasted, scalloped—green beans, creamed corn, candied yams with marshmallows, and dessert—pumpkin pie, apple pie, key lime pie, etc. After a few drinks and an argument or two, it’s off to the other in-laws (the ones who drew the short straw) for a later (say 6:00 pm) Christmas dinner, complete with turkey and cranberry sauce, stuffing, ham and pineapple, gravy, potatoes—mashed, roasted, scalloped—green beans, creamed corn, candied yams with marshmallows, and dessert—pumpkin pie, apple pie, key lime pie, etc. After a few more drinks and a few more alcohol-enlivened arguments, it’s back home to try to get the kids to settle down and go to fuck to sleep.
- Get up next morning and go to work.
As someone who has been living in Britain for over two decades, I am confident in asking: “WTF is that all about?”
Here in the UK, we have Boxing Day. Perfect for visiting the B-List in-laws, or taking the family on an easy outing to a park or other activity (looking at old tractors seems to be a popular one), or—as we have earlier established—shopping (SALES!!!).
Two days of Christmas, two sets of in-laws: coincidence? I think not, but even if it is, it’s a happy one—serendipity, it’s called—and we take full advantage of it. And you should, too. We’re not precious about it. Say it’s originally an American invention if you want, we won’t care.
But I do ask, when you come over to claim it, can you take Black Friday back?