Okay. Full disclosure, this is the part where I was supposed to write a piece comparing the 2019 GMC Yukon vs 2019 Ford Expedition. However, my co-worker, who will remain unnamed (let’s call him “Josh”) offered me some weed called ‘Full Circle’ and, well, I’m sure you can figure out the rest.
After cycling through the first few waves, I eventually shook the cold sweats and realized that I’d been staring at the GMC and Ford homepages for the longest 27 minutes of my life (having only typed the word “Bonerton”, for some indiscernible reason). I tried to dial in, but as my compromised thought process batted around the words “Yukon” and “Expedition”, all I could think of was Yukon Cornelius, the prospecting explorer from the classic stop-motion holiday special, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
So, there I was, singing “Silver & Gold” to myself (noting that the Yukon was available in ‘Quicksilver’ and ‘Satin Steel Metallic, while the Expedition was equally devoid of ‘Gold’ options) when a heated conversation broke out in the office.
Because, now that Christmas 2018 is over and done with, we should acknowledge that it will eternally be remembered as a paradigm shift in holiday norms. It will forever be the year that festive mainstays were hoisted up and burned in effigy by evolving sensibilities. It was the year when ‘Rudolph’ became a troubling depiction of social exclusion and bullying. When Charlie Brown’s Christmas was deemed racist. It was the year when a song about female sexual empowerment against 1940’s gender norms was boycotted by radio stations, under criticism for being a rape anthem. There were even demands that female Santas be hired by shopping malls. With all due respect to the real issues that need to be addressed in our world, such arguments feel misplaced. They are the reason why, in some ways, Christmas felt a little less Christmas-y this year. And despite our best efforts (ie: hiding an iPhone in the elevator of our 5-floor office building, playing an ever-repeating 10-hour loop of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas is You”) we found ourselves in a Christmas season being slowly stripped of its joy.
And it was in the heat of this discussion that the news broke that riots were occurring in the streets of Cleveland, OH. The unofficial “Home of Rock & Roll”, rich with musical history, was now the home of a protest where Christmas trees and Dean Martin albums were being burned in the streets – as a protest against outdated Christmas traditions. If you’re wondering how you missed the news coverage of this protest held at the beginning of the month, the mainstream media was distracted with coverage of Ariana Grande’s new passive-aggressive single and matching tattoo.
The protest, ignited by social outrage (plus the actual ignition provided by the villainous Heat Miser’s proximity to various accelerants) was growing out of control, with entitled, bearded hipsters embracing every ounce of holiday opposition they could muster in order to attack the traditions that so many hold dear.
Beside them, left-swinging SJW’s chanted their moralistic opposition to seasonal music that supported the White Patriarchy. They declared “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” a song about subjecting minors to softcore porn. “White Christmas” as supremacist rhetoric. “Do You Hear What I Hear” as being insensitive to the deaf.
It was only after I had watched the insanity unfold on-screen for what seemed like hours that another co-worker pointed out that I was actually still staring at the GMC and Ford homepages. Needless to say, that was pretty good weed. I can only hope that the PC Christmas outrage of 2018 has come and gone. Also, has anyone seen my pants?