The Christmas Marketing Season has Begun!

Preface / Introduction

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Table of Contents
1. The moans, groans, complaints and pontifications have begun as the Christmas marketing season
of 2011 commences. Which side are you on?
2. 'God rest you merry, gentlemen'. At my home that means preparing everything for the visit of the
Prince of Peace. It's a true labor of love.


The moans, groans, complaints and pontifications have
begun as the Christmas marketing season of 2011
commences. Which side are you on?
By Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Author's program note. Every year, it seems, the opening date for Christmas marketing creeps
forward, adding days, not just hours, to the already lengthy selling season. This year my cadre of
Christmas watchers reported seasonal catalog and store sightings as early as Labor Day, September
8 . But you can count on this: as people worldwide read this article, they will surely report even
earlier sightings. This happens every year... and as it does one of the interminable debates of our
times reignites: when is this much too much Christmas?
Ask this query in a crowded room and, hey presto, there will be pandemonium, mayhem, and
strident calls for the public lynching of the people who so tamper with and wantonly extend the most
important and revered holiday of the year. Christmas creep is here... and you have an opinion on this
matter; I'm sure of that. Everybody does.
Christmas is the promised land -- for merchants everywhere. That's the problem.
Christmas purists, and their number is legion, never tire of beating up the merchants who are, they
aver, at the bottom of Christmas creep. From this moment of the year forward, a large percentage of
Americans will get up on any soap box to hand and excoriate, insult, belittle and besmirch people
who earlier in the year they knew and attested to be good, hard-working, service-providing,
tax-paying citizens. But where Christmas creep is the issue, truth and justice are early casualties.
People will creep... it's as American as apple pie.
Know any folks from California? Or Oklahoma? I do. They are some of the nicest people you'll ever
meet. They are also the descendants of creepers.
Take California for instance. There a grand gentleman named John Augustus Sutter was peacefully
minding his own business when James W. Marshall on January 24, 1848 discovered gold on Sutter's
land, at Sutter's Mill, near Sacramento. The nation didn't say, "Good for you, Mr. Sutter." No way.
Instead they took to creeping on to old man Sutter's land, a little bit here, a little bit there... until the
creepers had everything and Mr. Sutter had nothing but lawsuits and a footnote in history. A little bit
of gold in them thar hills and a whole lot of creeping got us the State of California, and that's a fact.
Or consider the folks in Oklahoma. They're not called Sooners for nothing. In 1889, the federal
government organized the great land rush, whereby folks who wanted land could get it free by
racing for it against other land-hungry folks. Problem is, a good many of the wanters couldn't be
bothered to wait... and so they crept out early and grabbed the good stuff. Yup, they were creepers
and some of the best families of the state started that way, and that, too, is a fact. Creeping pays, and
only a Grinch would disagree.
But Grinches proliferate the closer Christmas comes and its insistent, unrelenting messages.
Although there have been plenty of Grinches in our history, lives, and culture, the actual character
debued in the 1957 children's book by Dr. Seuss, who was by all accounts a Grinch himself. It was
titled "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" and was adopted into a popular television special in 1966.
In an instant people with anti-holiday spirit and growly disposition were indelibly tagged as
partisans of that scowling hermit with green fur, red eyes, and boots who lives in an isolated cave
near Whoville.

http://www.LizsWorldprofit.com Copyright Elizabeth English - 2012 4 of 10


Now exuberant Christmas lovers had just what they needed to characterize and lambast the nay
sayers, "Don't be a Grinch," causing the justly labeled Grinches to writhe and squirm. Just as they
deserve. We all know it's fun -- and de rigueur -- to pick on each and every Grinch we know.
It's a question of dates.
After the fall in 1815 of Napoleon and his gimcrack empire, a peace conference was convened in
Vienna to divvy up the spoils. Participants included Russia, England, Prussia, Austria and -- drum
roll -- the France now ruled again by its Bourbon dynasty and represented by the Prince de
Talleyrand. One day Tsar Alexander I of Russia, who always made such a bad impression as he
rattled on about God and morality, was being particularly insufferable on the matter of how to divide
the Kingdom of Saxony, which had, in his imperial view, stayed loyal to Napoleon a little too long.
Its king, he insisted, should be losing half his country, or more.
Talleyrand, polished, aristocratic to his manicured fingertips, the ultimate cynic and realist, scanned
his colleagues, each of whom (but the English) had made deals with Bonaparte, and renigged on
them, snapped out that toxic phrase, "That, sire, is a question of dates."
And so it is with our Scrooges, our Grinches.
The person who wants no Christmas festivities at all, just strict, gloomy adherence to what they
suppose has been ordained and sanctified.... are Scrooges to the people who want the Christmas
season to exist for a day or two, but not more. These, in turn, get dubbed as Grinches by those who
want more... and there are always those who do. And so it goes...
... merchants trying (especially nowadays) to make up for one punk month after another, delving
deeper into the calendar....
... thereby fueling yelps of outrage and righteousness from folks who raise the cry of too much
self-seeking commercialism too early...
... thereby forcing those who might even agree in theory, to push the adamant seasonal marketing
forward and forward again, as an act of mercantile preservation and profit.
Each says, "Enough is enough"; each points fingers and mouths frantic imprecations; each postures,
preens, pouts, and always acts and speaks as if truth lived in their house and only their house. So
there!
Whoa! The baby at the center of Christmas has indeed been thrown out with the bath water, and this
will never do. Thus some thoughts of reconciliation, offered humbly and with trepidation.
Christmas has had a significant commercial aspect since the three wise men of the Orient, who came
so far and at such inconvenience, approached the manger and offered their expensive presents. Did
they just happen to find such offerings -- gold, frankincense, and myrrh -- in their saddlebags?
Doubtful. More likely, they had gone shopping at one of the great bazaars along the way; such
bazaars, blazing with the riches of the rich lands of the East, were the malls of their times... even
unto parking their camels, always malodorous and mean spirited. In such a place, even the most
fastidious desires of the most demanding could be met, including those who shopped for the King of
Kings, for whom they employed their most discriminating tastes and ample means, never rushed.
Thus, commercialism and Christmas go hand in hand... as they always have.
These suggestions will help you cope with and better enjoy this best of all holidays:
1) Let every man set his own acceptable level for just the amount of Christmas he desires. A laissez
faire attitude is not just useful, but mandatory. Stop worrying about whether the man next door is
asking too much or too little from the holiday and instead concentrate on making yours the best ever.



2) Leave the merchants alone. They have had a bad year; even if we think they are going over board,
let them get on with it without our jeremiads, lamentations and snide remarks. Where would we be
at Christmas, after all, without them?
3) Remember Henry Ford II's celebrated line, "Never complain, never explain". Since the very
inception of Christmas the Thought Police have attempted to coerce uniformity. Mr. Ford was
right... you owe it to no one and nobody to adhere; simply believe in your own way and style. As the
song says, "Have yourself a merry little Christmas..."
4) Select a few of your favorite Christmas carols and seasonal preferences and load them into your
audio player. You'll be a lot happier when you enter some establishment with music you detest, no
matter how venerable, if you can hear the tunes you particularly like.
And one more thing, whether the Christmas you celebrate is long or short, the single day itself, or
the 12 days with five gold rings and lords a-leaping, or something else altogether, remember this: the
gift you should most give and be most fortunate to receive is love... it is the only true and essential
element. All else pales beside it.



'God rest you merry, gentlemen'. At my home that means
preparing everything for the visit of the Prince of Peace. It's
a true labor of love.
By Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Author's program note. Please note the date: Saturday October 13 for this is the opening of the
Christmas preparation season for 2012. Archeologists and cultural historians will be grateful to me
in years hence when they get their government grants and write their learned tomes about the whys
and wherefores of Christmas in this our particular era. Yes, I say they will be glad to have each
salient fact, observation and deduction gathered by yours truly and herewith shared with the world.
For we are talking about the most joyous event of the Christian year, Christmas, and its preparations,
staggering for some, meagre and tardy for others, but all acknowledging that this is and continues to
be an event of significance to each of us.
How was October 13 selected as the commencement date for this event? Easy! It was the first day
when your observant author was assailed by not one but a series of "the Christmas season has
commenced" portents, signs which might easily be dismissed were there but one or even two, but
which in their concerted numbers make it clear that the great count-down to Christmas, with its
traditions, meanings, songs, poems, foods, displays, sentiments, travels, resolutions, friends,
observances has now commenced in earnest and for the next 71days until the day itself your life will
be affected, influenced, shaped and to a greater or lesser extent determined by what our fellow
travelers do or don't do, buy or don't buy, wear, stand in line, decorate... or don't wear, stand in line,
or decorate.
In other words, because of the birth of a child you may or may not believe was the Son of God your
life and all its prosaic concerns and tasks will be hi-jacked; weeks of your life will be less yours,
significantly influenced and directed by others you don't know, will never meet, but who are
nonetheless powers over you, determined you should listen to them... or else.
The first portents.
The thing about portents, that is a clue to future occurrences, is that they must for maximum impact
take you completely unaware. One moment you're doing such and such a task; considering such and
such a thing; talking about such and such a topic. Then the portent arrives, preferably delivered by
one or more appropriate gods of Olympus, all of whom seem to traffic in the dicey business of
portents, omens, divinations, and auguries. The portent (often obscure and therefore more amusing to
its deity deliverer) having arrived, pushes other quotidian topics to the bottom of your
consciousness, pulling out the rug on what you were focused on a moment ago and substituting
quite a different agenda.
Yesterday, October 13 mind, these portents arrived thick and fast; itself a sign that a seismic moment
had arrived; actung! stop what you're doing and pay attention. And unless you're that hapless noodle
the bored and therefore capricious gods have determined to make even more hapless and miserable,
you do pay attention. Thus does your life cease to be as much yours as it was just a moment before.
The gods know this, but they have kept this insightful observation for their own delectation and
benefit ere now. They wouldn't dream of imparting this intelligence to you; "free will" for humans
being one of the most potent and popular of their shrewd devices for controlling the not so sapiens
homo.
Let me make one thing clear, for sharing this with you I shall be persona non grata at Olympus
tonight, for if mankind knew just how little true freedom their gods have allowed us, there would be



tonight, for if mankind knew just how little true freedom their gods have allowed us, there would be
such a revolution as has never been even imagined before, much less consummated. And the gods
would surely have to make concessions, or they would never regain exalted position and control...
and what would their excellencies do then to amuse themselves at our expense?
What is your portent saying?
Portents must be clear but capable of complete misunderstanding. In other words, when reviewing
an event that could be a portent, two reasonably intelligent people must be capable of drawing two
dramatically different conclusions, for a portent is not a directive... not a declaration... if it were the
gods would be most unhappy... for if their signs could be so easily read by everyone the muddles
beloved of these ancient deities would cease and the gods who already have to wrestle with the
matter that is eternity...would fall into even deeper despair; for they already have too little to do and
far too much time in which to do it. Remember, their irritation, ennui and pique become the basis for
our misery. No wonder they don't want us to know.
Christmas portents by the hour.
The gods realize humans are short sighted, careless, capable of massive confusions and
misunderstandings. Thus, the game becomes determining the precise formula that will give us clues
(but not too many) and insight (but not too much). Even the Olympian gods are not born knowing
these things; they must learn. And they do so at our expense, for what are we humans for if not to
provide the wherewithal for their education and expertise? We are just so many lab rats to divinity.
Nice work if you can get it.
Store sightings, catalogs, email.
The first shop in my neighborhood to deck the halls was the smoking shop in Harvard Square. Given
the fact that teen-age smoking has dropped dramatically; thereby proving that even heedless
adolescents can get the message if we adults have the patience and deliberation to beat them about
the head with it.
As a result, the revenues at the smoking shop have most probably dropped... whilst their
Harvard-charged rent has undoubtedly done the reverse. It is therefore obvious why they want to
weigh in with a cheery seasonable greeting and display. "Give the gift of cancer."
Even the most knowledgeable of advertising executives might think twice before taking on this
daunting account. Still, there they are, hoping that the dwindling number of young smokers will
purchase their diminished life span from them, especially if they can do so in the name of Jesus, who
promised the eternal life the smoking shop is doing so much to curtail. Cool.
Catalog temptation (and ease) by mail and the 'net.
Stores like the smoking shop need to lure you into their premises as early as possible before
Christmas; their continuing survival depends on it. But catalogs live to remind you how difficult and
irksome store shopping is in the age of catalogs and 'net. Simply mentioning the invading hordes, the
unending lines, the harassed staff, the parking difficulties is usually enough to tip the scales to
catalog shopping online and off. That persuaded me. As a result the last several years such shopping
constitutes all my shopping.
The problem is the proliferation of mail-order Christmas catalogs, especially after you become a
proven buyer. Then you may expect to hear from each catalog at least 3-4 times before their last
frenzied promotion, hitting about December 15. All prophesy consumer distress if you fail to ACT
NOW, visit their website and ORDER!



But here the retail stores re-emerge as they reap the considerable advantages deriving from
procrastinators like you. At this point you will most assuredly wish you had heeded their October
warning. You will pledge to do better next year. You won't, of course. And so you'll keep your name
on every list; a portent of things to come, especially purchases you're sure to make. They know that,
even if you don't.
Polishing the silver.
In my house there is one certain activity that indicates the coming of Christmas. That is polishing the
silver. It is a very time-consuming task, taking a couple of days. Mercedes Joseph, so giving and
warm in all her aspects, will take these traits and leave the silver burnished into eye-popping
radiance. It's a significant part of our invitation to the Prince of Peace, an invitation that will see us
clambering up step ladders to clean the chandeliers in all the rooms to ensure that all is brilliant and
every facet sparkles. So that there is not a single molecule of tracked in dirt or bunched carpet. We
work hard to make it perfect; we work early and late to make it perfect... and we do it all because of
the advent of this harbinger of our salvation; because we will do it, not because anyone tells us what
to do or oversees our efforts, evaluating what we do.
We do it, because this is Christmas and the greatest gift we give is our voluntary adherence and a
belief that starts in our hearts and has no ending whatsoever.
That is why October 13, I awoke to the strains of my favorite carol running through my head, "God
rest you merry, gentlemen/Let nothing you dismay", first released in 1760. In an instant I find Bing
Crosby's 1945 version; then in a search engine one other version after another, including a rendition
by "Barenaked Ladies" (2004). Only the very young can find the sniggering humor in such
sophomoric nomenclature, but today I don't care.
For you see, every off key note I sing proves that I have become a portent myself of the great event
en route "For Jesus Christ our Savior/Was born upon this Day", and we rejoice in the Good News
passed from me and mine, to you and yours, to a burdened world which needs "tidings of comfort
and joy, comfort and joy", the true meaning of Christmas and why we gentlemen and gentlewomen
rest merry and shall remain so long past the day and season itself.



Resource
About the Author Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide
range of online services for small and-home based businesses.
Republished with author's permission by Elizabeth English http://LizsWorldprofit.com.


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