Happy Festivus 2022!

It's time for the Airing of the Grievances.

(Welcome to a Festivus installment of Life Its Ownself. If you enjoy reading it, please let me know by 1) hitting the Like button at the bottom, 2) subscribing to this newsletter, and 3) recommending it to others. Also, feel free to comment below. I’d love to hear your thoughts.)

December 23, 2022

1.    Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

         This is my favorite poem by Robert Frost and, depending on the day, my favorite poem of all. I have always been moved by its evocation of New England, and woods, and the serene quiet of a snowfall, and inspired by the sense of duty and mission contained in its last stanza:

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

I mention this because Wednesday was the Winter Solstice, “the darkest evening of the year” of the poem’s first stanza. I always think of the poem on that day, and marvel at Robert Frost and the human spirit.  

2.    A Festivus for the Rest of Us

         Well, it’s Festivus 2022. I am decorating the aluminum pole (pictures to follow) and the meatloaf is awaiting its turn in the microwave. Since I live alone, I have already declared myself champion of the Feats of Strength. And let’s be clear: were the Feats of Strength actually contested around the house this year, I would be the champion!

         Which leaves my favorite part, the Airing of the Grievances. And I gotta tell you, I am sick and tired of all y’all (grammatically correct, for you non-Texans) and the world you’ve created.

         Let’s start with the easy stuff: TV commercials. I do not watch much TV for most of the year but have been watching more recently. And you cannot watch basic cable TV without seeing commercials which, frankly, ruin the experience of whatever it is that you’re watching. Some examples:

What the hell is up with Christmas-time perfume commercials? I mean, what is this?

Perfume commercials are kinda weird year-round, so this is not that big a surprise. But what about this one for BMW?

Think about it: the plot of this commercial is that this family is so wealthy that when grandpa comes out on the front porch, schnockered before noon on a whole carton of eggnog, and assumes that a brand new BMW is a Christmas present from his overleveraged son, the son just goes along with it because he can. What the f*ck? This commercial makes me physically ill. Saturday Night Live had the perfect response to such commercials:

         And I’m getting sick and tired of Austin becoming less recognizable every time I come back from a month or two out west. The traffic is worse, everything costs more, and people don’t smile at you anymore.

Take the skyline: I can remember when you could actually see the Capitol from everywhere, not just the dozen carefully-curated “View Corridors” that are supposedly left. And at street level, utter havoc has been wreaked on old businesses and stomping grounds in the name of progress.

Progress is a comfortable disease, says e. e. cummings. What gets in my craw is that almost none of this “progress” is for the better. For example: I am a fan of the hamburger. Once upon a time, it was possible to get a burger, fries and a coke at any number of unique Austin joints that also served up what we call “character.” By “unique” I mean, for instance, a burger joint in a parking garage on E. 7th Street. Or to take another example, the legendary Hut’s on W. 6th Street. Soon the equally legendary Dirty Martin’s will be gone, a victim of mass transit. And they are replaced by what, Hopdoddy? Steak Shack? Are the burgers better? They ought to be, because they’re damn sure more expensive.

I’ve also got a bone to pick with my fellow Texas voters. If God Herself had come down from Guadalupe Peak and zapped their three pointy little heads with that pneumatic air gun they used in No Country for Old Men, She could not have indicated more dramatically that Abbott, Patrick, and Paxton’s 15 minutes were up. But you decided to return them to office, and by comfortable margins.

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3.    Happy Holidays!

I was determined to work up plenty of rage, faux or otherwise, this Festivus, but the truth is I have very few grievances. My health is good, I have family and friends who care about me, and I live a truly blessed life. I know people of similar age and circumstance who have become sad and bitter versions of their best selves, and I hope to avoid their fate. Nothing is promised to us in this life, and so our starting position should be gratitude for what we have.

With that, I wish you a Happy Festivus and a terrific 2023!