paul·a·ver

I’m pretty excited about this year’s Buy Nothing Day.

For me, it’s Do Nothing Day, my personal neo-Zen unholiday.

I’m not a cranky culture jammer, mind you, no matter what my wife says. Seriously.

But the period between mid-November and December 31st makes me more anxious than joyful.

Some people thrive on the chaos, stress, and anxiety. They like this time of year.

Regardless of the fact that I’m regularly accused around the house and at gatherings of family and friends of being an Adrenaline junkie, I am not one of these people. I don’t really like this time of year, except for ice skating, which is cool.

I am naturally chaotic, stressed, and anxious. From the perspective of my emotional well-being, the winter holidays are not unlike adding radioisotopes to a suitcase bomb, or in my case, perhaps, that’s a frame pack bomb.

Now, I have children who go to school with other chidlren nearly all of whose families participate in the holiday consumer binge. They’re under a lot of pressure to join the party, and I don’t want them feeling left out, the way I felt left out when I didn’t have an aligator on my golf shirt in 1978.

Dropping out of the whole season for a consumer fast just won’t work for me.

That said, the only thing one of my children has placed on his Christmas list is a bat house for our backyard, “one that will house about 100 big-eared bats, please.” He is the same child who, every year, is more excited about visitng the Salvation Army’s Angel Tree than he is about poring over toy catalogs.

The generosity comes from his mother, I can assure you.

My lovely and brilliant wife, Jennifer, loves Christmas and Thanksgiving. She collects little Santa Clauses which appear like tiny gnomes in surprising places throughout the house from November to January, and the day after Thanksgiving, she decorates the house with garland, puts on Big Band versions of Christmas carols, and steeps a pot of spiced tea.

I love her for this, not in spite of it. Really.

Still, I can’t get into the holiday spirit. It all really freaks me out. Bad things happen around this time of year, and I find that many of those which have happened in my family still haunt the winter holidays.

The only thing I really enjoy is picking out a new addition to the O-Gauge train I bring out for the season. I really want a beer cooler car this year.

I suggested we order pizza for Thanksgiving.

Jenn’s response was, “Gah!” She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

Buy Nothing Day, on the other hand, is the kind of holiday I dig. For my boys sake, I can’t drop out all season. But one day? No problem.

I will celebrate by reading a book, going for a walk with my boys and our dog, playing several rounds of competitive Yahtzee, drinking more coffee than is good for me, and of course, buying nothing. I think a lot of people would consider this doing approximately nothing, and buying nothing just seems like a normal hold-over from having once been a graduate student, so for me it’s Do Nothing Day.

If you celebrate one of the other more popular holidays or enjoy the whole mall frenzy thing, I wish you the best and happiest.

For me, nothing is cool. You can get it by the ounce, five-gallon bucket, or flat-bed load, and it’s really affordable either way.

Honestly, there’s nothing like it.

technorati: social commentary, holidays, Buy Nothing Day, consumerism, Black Friday, Christmas, Thanksgiving