Bein' Broke for Christmas

In the past several weeks, I've repeatedly heard the following sentiment expressed by friends and family:  "I don't know what I'm gonna do about Christmas, I'm not going to have any money."

Being someone who has spent several years being unable to fund any type of Christmas present extravaganza, I totally get it.  I found myself broke after years of putting the most awesome presents I could find on credit cards.  I stopped using my credit cards for that purpose about five years ago.  I stopped using my credit cards PERIOD a little over a year ago, and with my bankruptcy proceedings coming up next month, will most likely NOT have another credit card for QUITE SOME TIME.  Do I feel like I suck just a bit for not having any gifts to give at Christmas (or birthdays for that matter)?  Yeah.  But I'm pretty much past all that.  I've gradually figured out, that while it's nice to rip paper and get something I haven't yet bought (or would never buy) for myself, I could generally care less.  Having no attachments to Christianity and the "true" spirit of Christmas (or Easter for that matter, which is totally about the damn Bunny with cavity bearing baskets), and viewing the "holiday" as something 90% of America has completely lost the whole point of, I get a little "gruff" inside when someone talks about not having the money for Christmas.  

Don't get me wrong, I'm not being a "bah-humbug" character here.  I love the season when peace and love seem to somehow make their way through the maze of retail aisles.  I would rather, if I could afford it, adopt a child from a poor family and give that way, instead of giving to the children I know, who already have everything they need and plenty of crap to play with and break.  Charity begins at home they say.  I don't think it says anything about Gift giving begins at home.

I know.  I know.  People love their children.  I've done my share of spoiling future generations and will most definitely continue to play a part in self serve first, as I can barely walk down a toy aisle without wanting to stack the cart for a special little boy in my life.  But, it makes me seriously consider what exactly that role plays in raising a well rounded, giver not taker, type of person.  Stressing about how I'm gonna manage to BUY stuff to show the people in my life how much I love them and how good of a child/adult they are?  That somehow seems a bit off the path I would like to walk in life.  Why must I feel guilty to let someone know that all I have to offer for Christmas is my love and company?  Why do I always feel as if going "home" for the holidays won't be worth it to my family if I don't come bearing some gift other than myself?  I don't honestly think I was raised to believe that, I think the commercialism has just been absorbed by me in the endless advertisements and quick changes of the holidays at the stores.

You want to know how I KNOW I wasn't raised that way?  The picture of that physically hideous doll is my proof.  My parents worked for the Motorola factory when I was little.  When the factory shut down in 1975, they were both out of work.  There was no money for Christmas.  There was barely enough money for bills with two of them without a job.  That year was tough on the entire country, not just my family, with the oil crisis' and the recession.  

Me, my two sisters and my three cousins all got one of those dolls.  I know, it is quite possibly the scariest friggin' doll you've ever seen.  It had no mouth, so I drew one on it with lipstick as any 5 year old girl would do to a doll that didn't have one.  My mom had made one of these skinny, long armed, even longer legged, bumpy knee-ed, mohawkishesk single row of yarn for hair-ed, panty-hose stuffed, go-go mini dress wearing dolls for each of us.  That was it.  That was Christmas.  I don't remember being that broke, but I remember enough to know that THAT doll meant something, so I've kept it.  That's a picture of it on my washing machine that I took this morning after digging it out of my keepsake box.  My big wheel isn't in there.  Neither is my Baby Alive that I absolutely HAD to have.  No evidence of the Atari I thought was so cool to brag to my friends about.  The cool shoes and even cooler jeans have long since been tossed.  But, that hideous doll, that contains all the beauty in the world, I've still got IT.  THAT's how I know what Christmas is all about.  Doing everything you CAN with what you've GOT, to show a little girl that you love her.  THAT'S what I want to pass on to future generations, not the "I deserve it for being on the planet"  attitude that seems to exist more predominantly now.

Fuck the Cabbage Patch kids or whatever doll is the biggest retail craze, my creepy doll is worth way more than that.