Christmas too commercialized? Please stop complaining and pass me the Zoloft

This was our non-commercialized Christmas haul in 1960, just before we left Keesler Air Force Base in Biloxi, Miss., for Torrejon Air Base outside Madrid, Spain. Image by Del Stone Sr.

Some cynics believe that in these crassly commercialized times, it is impossible to remain faithful to the real meaning of Christmas.

Phooey! Have these Negative Nellies never seen an episode of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer Part IV: Rudolph Takes Fallujah,” which I believe is traditionally sponsored by Smith & Wesson?

At Christmas, that joyous time of year stretching from mid-January to 12:01 Christmas morning when the stores begin stocking their shelves with Easter Peeps, our hearts are filled with hope and our driveways are filled with new Mustang GTs.

Crass commercialization? If you say so. But don’t ask me for a ride to Walmart to buy candy bunnies, you slackers.

Look, it’s simple: At Christmas:

A bright light in the sky signals the beginning of the season. No, it is not the light of a Verizon “Can you hear me now” tower. It is Rudolph, of course, and he is reconnoitering the world for his Christmas Eve mission (and doing a little job on the side for the Department of Homeland Security).

As the story goes, Rudolph spots a lonely green man with strange hair whose name is not Don King. It is the Grinch, with his dog, Snoopy. They are riding a giant Norelco electric shaver down the mountain where Busch beer is brewed – and the Grinch is NOT bringing a keg to the Whoville town square sing-along.

No, the spirit of Christmas has not taken possession of the Grinch’s heart in the sweet angina of the season. It has been replaced by the spirit of junk bonds and wardrobe malfunctions and getting fired by Donald Trump.

The Grinch’s heart has been tainted, like the heart of the one-armed zombie in “Dawn of the Dead.”

And he’s carrying a Red Ranger BB gun.

Anyway, Rudolph alerts Frosty the Snowman, who bears a suspicious resemblance to a scrubbed-down Michael Moore although much more angry and confrontational, and the hot-tempered snowman assembles a fire team of ninja elves and sleigh drivers from “Grand Theft Auto: NASCAR vs. Desperate Housewives,” and they move to take out the Grinch and win themselves fat action-figure contracts from Mattel.

But it is here we learn an important holiday lesson: In the spirit of the season, violence is not the solution.

Lawsuits are the solution.

So the fire team defers to Charlie Brown, who warms the Grinch’s heart, like a Thermoskin Arthritic Knew Wrap, with his scraggly, pathetic tree, which just happens to be decorated with a Faberge egg. Whoville is saved and the inhabitants gather for the annual Running of the Visa Cards, while Donder gets Blitzened on a keg of Busch Ice.

So this business of Christmas getting swallowed up by commercialization is all a matter of your perspective, which can be dramatically improved by the sight of a brand new GT parked in the driveway.

This column was originally published in the Saturday, Dec. 18, 2004 edition of the Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.

About the author:

Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”

Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.

As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.

Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .

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