Here's my Christmas wish to you: Have a nap, and stay home out of it
Extreme socializing doesn't agree with social distancing. Thus, this year is different.
My friend and colleague, the actor and director Charlie Tomlinson, calls me Ed "I-don't-care-about-your-feelings" Riche. But my heart isn't stone cold.
I am a sentimental fool when it comes to Christmas. Loves it. Love the lights, hearing carols I've heard a thousand times before. Love the smell of a tree in the house.
Can even go Coca-Cola Claus and the nativity sets with Western Europeans playing the parts of the cash-strapped Judeans in the manger.
Distaste for the attendant consumerism isn't enough to dampen my enthusiasm for the yuletide. Being lucky enough to live in downtown St. John's I can easily fulfill any obligations by simply strolling around buying fabulous local products at local shops and feeling patriotic and useful for doing so.
More easily I can give up on shopping altogether and duck into Erin's or The Ship for a pint with good odds I will meet old friends, most of whom look better at two meters.
No need to invite the diaspora
We do Christmas up so well here in Newfoundland and Labrador I am forever telling friends from away to come visit. Get out of Toronto or Paris or Calgary and come enjoy the season here, with the pros.
No need to invite the diaspora.You usually can't stop Newfoundlanders and Labradorians piling in from away come Christmas.
There is much feasting and drinking. A few jars, more songs and stories and shouting and bawling and carrying on. During this manic phase of our long winter everybody is atop one another hugging and kissing, slapping backs and shaking hands. We share our viruses as freely as our good cheer and all hands have the same cold the week after New Year's.
Cannot. Be. At. It.
This year the virus is novel and nasty so we simply cannot be at it. Cannot. Be. At. It.
Extreme socializing doesn't agree with social distancing. This Christmas, this one Christmas, we are going to have to forgo all that.
Admit it, Bryce and Babs nearly drove you crazy last holiday season. Bernie was out of control, again, and you wanted to throttle Dianne because she won't ever let that thing go. When Dave comes back from Alberta, he expects everyone to be turned up to 11, 24/7.
Jackie always does something inappropriate at the office party and the new hire from the mainland, Everett will likely report it. Susan, jealous of all the attention the Baby Jesus is getting, always ends up delivering her annual "Christmas is a commercial racket cooked up by the Romans" spiel at the worst possible moment.
A remedy? Some rest in the nest
You'll have a break from all that this year. When you get together next Christmas, when this is behind us, you'll easier forgive the foibles of the ones you love. Don't waste this interruption in our social calendar to erase the tapes.
I have the same regret every year when Christmas ends: there was too much rushing around, too many parties and events, and I never found the time to kick back, to nap, to fall into a trance gazing at the trimmed tree, read a novel or two, take the dog to discover a new trail in the country.
Did I say "nap"?
This year, with Christmas celebrations curtailed, I am resolved to remedy that regret.
The necessary changes we will all have to make won't stop me from slurping back a few oysters, making salt fish and potatoes on Christmas Eve, having a whiskey in front of the fire, and generally contemplating how blessed we are to live in Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada, in the dread year 2020.
It's been a stressful time. Some rest in the nest might be just the ticket.
Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Super Saturnalia …and stay home out of it.
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