Welcome to the Obitchuaries, wherein I bitch about things and lay them to rest, often in pieces.
Today’s Obitchuary is brought to you by Walmart, because that is who first offended my eyes this year. But hey, every other major retailer on the planet — I’m looking at you, too!
I was in Wal-Mart on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, picking up a couple of forgotten items for the holiday feasting…
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
But an aisle full of candy. For Valentine’s. NEXT YEAR!!!
That’s right. Santa Claus hadn’t even squeezed his thick (we don’t say fat anymore, right?) self down the heat pump duct. Baby Jesus was still backstage while the angels were warming up the crowd. Poor husbands sent out to grab last minute stocking stuffers stood transfixed in the middle of the holiday candy section, looks of panic on their faces, wondering, “Oh shit, is it that time again? So soon?”
I can’t even get through one holiday before the next one is shoved down my throat. I feel like the girl passed around at an orgy — not that I would actually know how that feels. I just have a good imagination and —
You know what, let’s just move on to the next analogy, ok?
We live in Perpetual Holidayland. There’s never any downtime. New Years, Valentine’s, St. Patricks, Easter, Mothers Day, Memorial Day, Fathers Day, 4th of July… we used to get a little break between 4th of July and Labor Day, but that’s been utterly overrun by Back to School (which seems to be a shopping holiday all on its own). The plethora of craft stores make sure that any seasonal change –even summertime — requires decorations, holiday or not. Then it’s Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas/Chanukah/Kwanzaa, and we start the whole thing all over again.
And it’s a ploy. Before we can even get to the next holiday in sequence, we’re already sick of it. We’re ready for something different and they give it to us, right on cue.
I’ve had to make a rule for myself: nothing pumpkin flavored until October, nothing cranberry flavored until November, and nothing peppermint flavored until December.
I feel like I’m manning the wall of a culinary Helm’s Deep against a horde of Saruman white-hand-bitch-slapped Uruk-Hai, standing strong throughout a September that has yet to feel a frost as white girls in leg warmers scale the walls armed with Pumpkin Spice Lattes and fall memes.
It looks great in my head, trust me.
Seriously though — when every day is a holiday, or prepping for a holiday, or hitting the clearance sales after a holiday, what’s the point of holidays? Even the standard holiday mantra, It’s not about what you get, but about what you give has been turned against us, leveraged to ensure our complicity in the greatest ruse of all time.
There is only one holiday. Its traditional colors are gold, green, and plastic. You don’t need a calendar anymore to mark its passing because it never goes away.
It is called Consumerism.
It is the One Ring.
And it rules us all.