Christmas frenzy
Okay, I admit it: nostalgia makes us look back with a tendency to idealize. Childhood is—as we all know—the lost paradise we yearn for our whole lives. This doesn't mean, at all, that The past was always better.A statement especially true for those of us who were young children during the Franco regime.
Our childhood should have been boring and sad, in black and white, like the No-Do newsreels. This is the first impression evoked by the images from the Francoist newsreel that the program has unearthed. The year you were born, presented by Xavier Bundó on La 2 Cat, with good audience figures.
However, in this kind of waiting room for Christmas feats that seems to start earlier each year, I can't help but think that, perhaps, just perhaps, that simpler childhood, more innocent than now, more austere... made what sentimental people call "the magic of Christmas" more real.
In this over-informed, hyper-consumerist, and globalized society we have now, children experience this wait—formerly restrained and, for that very reason, more exciting—with a frenzy that, it seems to me, can even cause anxiety.
The Christmas lights are overwhelming and are switched on in November; the ceremonies before the arrival of the Three Kings multiply, and a certain competition arises between the royal postman, the Three Kings' fairy, the page, and all sorts of eccentric characters. For dessert, we have to add Santa Claus, who, without asking permission from Their Majesties, has joined the festivities. There's also—it goes without saying—the Tió, now transformed into a sort of "pooping" figure with eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Wasn't it more "magical" when a simple wooden log ate tangerines and sweets fell out? If we humanize it, it loses some of its charm!
The lower prices of some toys (not all), which also makes them uglier and more tacky, allows most children to get everything they ask for in their letters to the Three Kings (via the El Corte Inglés catalog or similar stores). Gone are the memories of that year when they desperately wished for a specific gift that the Kings didn't bring. Above all, the children shouldn't get frustrated.
Those of us with children know that we've all committed the sin of excess and watched our kids unwrap presents without paying any attention, overwhelmed as they were by the sheer number of wrapped packages. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. But I think that one day we'll have to consider bringing some sanity to this Christmas frenzy.
On social media, when people talk about Christmas excesses, they always refer to the calories and fats we've ingested that have made us gain (drama!) a couple of kilos. But what about the excesses in consumption, in excitement, in recklessness? Will we ever find a way to put a stop to it?
We're stunned by excess, dazzled by colored lights, hyper-excited by Black Friday, stuffed with sweets, seduced by sequins. And then, in order to offer a surprise, something truly exceptional, they end up putting up a gigantic Christmas tree—which isn't a tree at all. Let's go back to the fir tree with four lights, please. Let's go back to giving a few gifts, but nice ones. To a certain restraint, to good taste, to the spirit of Christmas.