Opinion/Leedom: The holiday season brings with it traditions - and some changes
We’re Americans, and we’re entering a time when traditions are all over our land. One of them is eating too much. The so-called holidays are times to open the squeaky cabinet drawer where Grandma’s and Aunt Hilda’s recipes have weathered yet another year in their three-by-five metal boxes that have rusted at corners.
The holidays are the time of year to bake mince pies and cranberry bread. They’re traditions that date back to whom and when is fuzzy on the brain. Our markets remind us of traditions such as pumpkin pies and puddings, turnips that no one eats at any other time, eggnog that no one drinks at any other time and cider, ditto. Aunt Hilda’s recipe for marzipan is so complex that it takes three hours to concoct. But it’s tradition to make marzipan during the blasted holidays, ho, ho ho.
It’s time to shake out the pinecone wreath, pinch out the cobwebs and hang it on the door. This month it will be adorned with an orange and bronze ribbon, and next month with a red and green one. Why not purple or pink? Tradition.
Football is a tradition during our holidays. All those high school and college football games, even if you didn’t know a tight end from a linebacker or a flea flicker from a Hail Mary pass. Fields of brightly colored uniformed band members honking away on horns too big for them, cheerleaders rah rahing, coaches swinging whistles and frowning, spectators huddled in ski jackets wearing cheese-bedecked or Minuteman or Lions headwear. Ah, the traditions of football in our hometowns, inside humongous stadiums and on college campuses.
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Traditions abound in old TV shows born in the 1950s and ‘60s, which start to air right after Halloween. All the Peanuts characters are tradition. Rudolph and Frosty, the Little Drummer Boy and the Grinch have become traditions as have readings on the radio of "A Christmas Carol" and watching "Miracle on 34th Street" for the umpteenth time.
Tradition is from the Latin word traditio which means to hand down or give over. Our American holiday traditions have come a long way from religious observances and the Thanksgiving myth. Americans of all faiths and beliefs tune in to our new cultural traditions of giving and getting. We buy stuff. We wrap and unwrap stuff and take some stuff back to where it came from. We decide not to have everyone give to everyone else but to pick a name from a box little Charlie or Carly decorated for this purpose. Families who choose this method of giving and getting pride themselves on less waste, and more time to ponder and choose one special gift.
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It’s that time when our mailboxes and inboxes are filled with pleas for giving. Talk about picking and choosing. We can’t save all the whales and elephants and hungry children in remote places. We should not let ourselves feel guilty by not sending checks to organizations that send us stickers and notepads. Catalogs filled with everything American and many things made in China cram our mailboxes. These and brochures describing the plights of the displaced in Ukraine and those living under bridges in Seattle tug at our consciences. It’s time to discriminate unless you’re a millionaire.
Oh, the joys and sorrows of being with those we haven’t seen for months and months or a year fill us with glee, dread or ennui. We travel to see people, bring gifts and hope there are no storms or delays to mess up our journeys.
We Americans love our animals, especially during the holidays. We can take them to be blessed, to sit on Santa’s lap, and to little get-togethers at doggie parks. Some take their pictures with their new intelligent phones and send them as holiday cards. The holidays wouldn’t be just so without decking out Fido and Kitty with coats and hats. It’s become a tradition. Bah humbug, say non-lovers of pets. We tell them pets love us unconditionally because they can’t talk.
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The holidays call forth the best natures of most people, be darned the bah-humbuggers. We hug more (because we’re fully boosted against all the viruses) and we sing to ourselves or in choirs and concerts. We love the feel of warm mittens and faux fur slippers. Heigh-ho, the holidays.
Barbara Leedom is a columnist for the Cape Cod Times. Email her at bleedom@gmail.com.
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This article originally appeared on Cape Cod Times: Opinion/Leedom: The holiday season is a time of traditions old and new
