Christmas always gets me down. It’s not because I don’t like Christmas. I’m really neutral on the whole thing. I just don’t care about it one way or the other. However, people that I care about like Christmas and want… nay, need my participation. Being with them just isn’t enough. There’s no middle. I’m either in with a smile or out with a frown. They want an active participant, willing to sit in the present-opening circle, giving feedback on the snazzy garage door opener I just received as a gift while everyone stares at me in anticipation of thank-you’s and it’s-just-what-I-wanted’s (which really would be lies if I were to play along). If I’m not part of that circle and perform (lie) in a way that lets them know I like Christmas, their gifts, and all the other props that go along with the annual Christmas play, they ask “what’s wrong?” and “don’t you like Christmas?”. That’s the part that gets me down. The requirement to either perform (lie) or subject myself to a line of questioning the Grinch might receive from a Who-family as he smashes a tree or steals the roast beast.

Being the glutton for punishment that I am (and in-need of human interaction), I go to the Christmas gathering, but don’t play along with fake thank-you’s and such. Inevitably, I get the questions about not liking Christmas. I let them know that I don’t understand why we wait for certain time of year to buy presents (the old “Christmas should be year-round” cliche), why we feel the need to buy someone something even if it’s not something they want/need, the fact that I don’t agree with the consumerism/commercialization of the holiday, the fact that I don’t agree with the lies about the origin of the holiday, and all the other high/mighty blah-blah blather I spew. Then I find myself the center of attention… exactly where I didn’t want to be. I just want to go along to show them I care, but to stop short of being disingenuous by playing along. Basically, I want to be neutral. Every year they force my hand, though. So I go, stay in a corner until coaxed out by the group, then crap all over the whole thing and leave everyone wondering why I’m such a wet blanket.

So, if I’m going to put a damper on things anyway, I might as well stay home next year. Of course, they’d be concerned and upset, but at least I’d avoid the choice between lying and ruining other people’s time. I’d probably just be trading the Christmas pain for Christmas guilt since my wife would be there alone, forced to answer questions on my whereabouts. She’d be sad, knowing that everyone else says her husband has issues. Someone still gets hurt because of me. I guess I could always run off, live alone on a mountain, and look down on the world like the Grinch I’ve been called.

It’s not that I don’t like Christmas. I just don’t like social scripts. I already play along 40-hrs a week.

…since I created this account, I feel obligated to populate it with something. Well, I guess I could write about how I keep trying to “keep up” with the whole “web 2.0” thing, whatever that is (hence, I created this account without a genuine interest). I manage an IT department, but I’m severely out of touch with what people are doing on computers when they’re not working. Unfortunately, “when they’re not working” has extended to work… where I manage the support of desktop computers at a community college. Every day, social networking and the like is further integrated into and run adjacent to legitimate business applications and processes. So, I have to understand why, how, and when people are doing what they are doing on the web. I have to worry about viruses/spyware the propagate via social networks. I also have to consider the possibility of sensitive data being leaked. The risks and implications are endless. So, here I am, creating another account whose output/input will, nearly undoubtedly, be run (probably incorrectly) through some kind of aggregator and continue to feed the ever-expanding field of mostly useless data (and people) that is called (I think) “web 2.0”. Post #1 complete… hopefully this one doesn’t end up like my forgotten LiveJournal account.