It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Who can argue with that? Beautiful displays everywhere, many homes adorned with lovely lights, including some completely covering slippery rooftops. Remember, the Secret Service chief said sloping roofs were too dangerous for trained agents. But not for festive, middle age homeowners.

The Christmas season really begins now the day after Halloween. The stores instantly change from orange pumpkins to Yuletide red and green. In many places, Christmas music is still piped in for shoppers to enjoy. Sure, some of it’s what John Lennon once derided as muzak, but there’s still plenty of original classics to enjoy, from Darlene Love’s dynamic Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) to Tom Petty’s Christmastime Again to the Ronettes (or better yet, John Prine) crooning I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus to Lennon’s own timeless Happy Christmas, the War is Over. Probably the best known Christmas protest song ever written. And in between all the secular favorites, a few real Carols slip through. I still stop and marvel at every rendition of O’ Come All Ye Faithful, and the one I love best, Hark the Herald Angels Sing. If they weren’t divinely inspired, I don’t know what music ever has been. 33 Questions About Ame... Thomas E. Woods Best Price: $2.91 Buy New $9.99 (as of 07:05 UTC - Details)

The man I consider the greatest writer the English language ever produced, Charles Dickens, pretty much invented modern Christmas, during the Victorian age. His Christmas tales, especially A Christmas Carol, perhaps the most perfect story ever written, helped to popularize the notion of trimmed Christmas trees, gift giving, a lavish holiday meal, and the spirit of Christmas, which I think is a real thing. However, even before Dickens was published, in 1823, the poem Twas the Night Before Christmas, by Clement C. Moore, really introduced Santa Claus to the American population. Not to mention stockings hung by the chimney, and sugar plums dancing in the heads of little children. Dickens and England had Father Christmas, but we had jolly old St. Nicholas, aka Santa Claus, who later went on to drink Coca Cola like the rest of us. And his obesity was celebrated by a much leaner population.

Now I don’t want the subtitle of this little missive to be misleading. I am not now, nor have I ever been lonely or depressed during the holidays. I had the kind of wonderful Christmases most Baby Boomers enjoyed as a child. My mother, despite being financially strapped, did all she could to satisfy my inevitably lengthy Christmas list. Except for that Ludwig drum set. Which I really need to stop complaining about. And when my wife came into the picture as my girlfriend, she introduced me to a whole new level of holiday celebration. Between her family and mine, we spent many years basically enjoying three Christmases, starting on Christmas Eve and extending to late Christmas night. What would I possibly be depressed about? I was spoiled rotten. And up until the mid-’90s or so, I could accentuate this by watching the endless showings of It’s a Wonderful Life that permeated cable television then.

But gradually, I began to realize that not everyone was celebrating three Christmases. Or even one. I heard from several people in this unenviable position, once I became the slightly well known writer I am now. I learned that some people really hate Christmas. I guess if your family is dysfunctional enough that they can’t even get together once a year and act civil to each other, then you would probably resent all the joy and happiness that seems to be going on all around you. Sure, a lot of the Christmas cheer is alcohol induced and/or phony, but even then it’s “the most acceptable form of hypocrisy,” to quote the great Ambrose Bierce, who I’m confident despised Christmas. Whether it really comes from the heart, most people feel an obligation- if not an earnest desire- to give to others, especially their closest loved ones, at Christmastime. No matter the motivation, isn’t that a good thing?

I think of those who will be sitting in their probably small, perhaps too chilly residences on Christmas Eve, all by themselves. There are no children to go through the ritual of leaving milk and cookies for Santa. Almost certainly no Christmas tree. No stockings, and no fireplace. If they have no family that cares enough to see them over the holidays, they aren’t likely to even receive a phone call. No one other than maybe the Salvation Army volunteer, assuming they visit the grocery store (they don’t have anyone to buy Christmas presents for), will even wish them “Merry Christmas.” I doubt they’ll be watching A Charlie Brown Christmas or Jimmy Durante singing Frosty the Snowman. Any reminder of the season is likely to bring back bad memories. Or, perhaps even worse, good memories. Of what Christmas once was.

The “experts,” as is their wont, have diagnosed the situation and given it a fancy scientific name. Seasonal Affective Disorder- conveniently SAD for short. I don’t think that SAD is a real malady any more than Executive Burnout is a legitimate thing. And I wonder if those who are alone and forgotten during the holidays come from exclusively Christian families? Is there any evidence that many Jews are lonely during Hanukkah? How many Muslims ignore family members during important holidays? What about Kwanza? As ridiculous as this contrived “holiday” is, is anyone really lonely at Kwanza? It does seem like this is a Christian phenomenon. Which is not that surprising, since so many modern Christians ignore the Golden Rule, and don’t love their neighbor. So it stands to reason that they probably would have little patience for eccentric or troubled relatives. The Politically Incorr... Thomas E. Woods Jr. Best Price: $1.51 Buy New $8.71 (as of 06:15 UTC - Details)

There’s the old saying about every horrible adult, even every serial killer, being “once some mother’s baby.” I doubt there are any evil infants. But then that’s the old liberal in me- nurture over nature. At any rate, assuming some future lonely and depressed adults had nice Christmases as children, what happened? If the lonely, depressed adult is young enough, their parents could still be alive. Did they stop celebrating the holidays, too? How about siblings? Did the dysfunction just cut through all the memories of wondering what each one was getting for Christmas, of peeking at the presents in the closet? How can something so special just disappear for some people? Or even worse, are these families still getting together, still enjoying all the turkey and trimmings, and excluding one ostracized member? Not letting the black sheep join in any of their reindeer games? What can cause this kind of unforgiving division?

Although it’s surely been exacerbated by the Trumpenstein Project, we can’t blame this on Trump. Sure, some of those not together with certain or all family members is due to someone in their midst voting or not voting for Trump. And there are obviously some cases of the unvaccinated not being invited to go caroling or make gingerbread houses, either. But there were lonely and depressed people at Christmastime long before Trump. Before the COVID-19 psyop. Something happens in too many families, where a child’s decisions or actions are so beyond the pale that their parents, and/or their siblings, just write them off. Forever. The reverse can happen as well. Adult children just turn their backs on those who raised them. How bad a job could they have done as parents to deserve that, short of violently beating them? How bad can a breach of conduct be, to make you stop caring about your closest loved ones?

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