As much as I hate to admit it, I’m having some trouble with Christmas this year. I am finding myself somewhat depleted of the whole “holiday spirit” and I really don’t know who or what to blame.

I have no real reason to be blue. I am gainfully employed, newly engaged and have a wonderful family and fiancé with which to spend the holidays. I am practically done with my shopping and proud to say that I didn’t go over board. I put up a sparkly tree along with a few other decorations and am in the process of wrapping. I’ve been watching some favorite Christmas flicks on TV… but that is precisely where the merriment ends.

I have no desire to listen to Christmas music, attend holiday parties or events. The lights going up around the neighborhood don’t captivate me or give me that “warm, fuzzy” feeling they once did. And I swear if I hear one more commercial about “that perfect gift” one more time — I am going to smash the offending broadcasting device with my hammer.

What is wrong with me? Did I lose my Christmas gene on my last birthday or something? Perhaps my “issues” with Christmas have nothing to do with an internal flaw and everything to do with the collective behavior of society. The emphasis placed on material items by manufacturers and the people who buy into it hook, line and sinker… The MUST DO mentality when it comes to certain “traditions”… The excess… The rushing and the rudeness of the masses…

I think what put me over the edge this year was an experience that I had this past weekend. We were doing some shopping at a store on the OSU campus. After deciding that we’d done all the damage we were going to do in that store before moving on to the next, we got in line at the register.

While waiting patiently for our turn, a tall, attractive woman dressed in all black bursts through the door, struts across the front of the store and rushes the counter, ignoring all of us waiting in line as she barks at the cashier: “You have a sweatshirt on reserve for me.” (Yes, I’ve intentionally placed emphasis on the word “me”).

We all turn our attention to her majesty—aware now of the faintest sound of crickets chirping in the background—while trying to comprehend this sudden display of rudeness and utter disregard for EVERYONE ELSE already in line at the counter. Now I know that this story is playing out all across the country right now, most likely coming to a register near you… but it was my first such encounter of the season.

Fortunately, the cashier asks the woman to wait while she finishes taking care of the customer with whom she is the middle of a transaction. And the woman huffs while she must wait like some wretched peasant. We pay for our items and leave the store around the same time as she. And we see that she has parked her shiny, black Lincoln Navigator right in front of the door.

As we back out of our parking spot I couldn’t help but notice a HUGE magnetic cling the size of a billboard on the side of her vehicle. It read in big white letters against a black background: “Don’t forget to keep the CHRIST in Christmas!”

Really? I thought to myself… And all this time I’ve been wondering where in the world my “holiday spirit” could possibly have gone.