Happy/Merry [Insert Preferred Holiday Here]

‘Twas the first night of Hanukkah, and all through the day,

My non-Jewish friends kept texting me to say:

A very Happy Hanukkah to you I am wishing!

Hanukkah?  What the hell are you talking about?  I’m still full from Thanksgiving.

Messages and well wishes in abundance did I receive,

And yet not a single gift will I be given before Christmas Eve.

But this I must say; despite my kvetching and scrooge-esque attitude,

I wish all you Jews a fun-filled day of movies and Chinese food.

And to those observing Christmas with celebrations big or small,

Season’s greetings, and a very merry day to one and all!

Why the painfully awkward poem?  It’s my mom’s trademark for special occasions, so today I thought I’d carry along the tradition. 

After all, aren’t those awkward traditions half the reason we love and/or loathe the holidays?

Think of this poem as a metaphor for holidays spent with family – a little bit of awkwardness, some painful moments, and cheesy in the best possible way.

Hanukkah is no exception.

And before you ask, there is no “correct” spelling.  Hanukkah, Chanukah, Chanuka.  Everyone spells it differently.  So just put some Cs, Hs, As, Ns, Us, and Ks together, and I promise you’ll get close enough.

In my mind, Hanukkah traditions can be summed up in four words. Latkes. Gelt. Dreidel. Menorah.  

Of course none of these traditions are actually commonplace in my household. 

Latkes, I’ve found, are best enjoyed at Hanukkah parties thrown by others.  No oil burns, no mess to clean up, and no Jewish mother staring you down as you shove a deep fried potato pancake in your mouth (and by you, I mean me). 

Ah, gelt.  The chocolate coin.  I have no idea how or where this concept originated, but I fully support the melding of chocolate and money.  If one day people choose to throw some diamonds into the mix, all the better. 

And, then, there’s the dreidel.  You know, “I have a little dreidel, I made it out of clay, and when it’s dry and ready, oh dreidel I shall play.  Oh dreidel, dreidel, dreidel…”

No? Just me?  First awkward holiday moment, ✓ 

What college students quickly realize about dreidel is that the rules translate seamlessly into a drinking game.  I finally had the perfect excuse for my less than stellar dreidel spinning skills. 

Back at home, however, my cousins are quick to mock my lack of finesse with the dreidel.  Apparently they went pro in dreidel spinning, and I didn’t make the cut.

Arguably the most important Hanukkah tradition, and the only one we make an effort to keep as a family, is the nightly lighting of the menorah (Hanukiah for accuracy's sake).  Our singing, a melody combining the tone deaf with the talentless, elicits a crescendo of dog barks in the neighborhood.  But, hey, it’s tradition.

However, for the first time I can remember, this year our menorah burned for only four nights.

In letting Hanukkah pass by without much pomp and circumstance, I discovered something remarkable.  The celebration of Hanukkah is predicated on a Pavlovian response. 

Think about it: light a candle, get a present.  No wonder I lit candles so (...wait for the pun so painful you’ll cringe when you read it…) religiously all those years.

Not only did my family forget to light candles every night this year, but this also marks the first Hanukkah we neglected to open a present on each of the eight nights.  Coincidence?  I think not.

Even during the four Hanukkahs I celebrated in college, I would get care packages with eight of the most random little gifts my mom could find.  I lit candles every night, and afterward rewarded myself with one present.  Anyone in need of Hanukkah socks?  I have about 15 pairs.

Gift exchanges and other parallels between Hanukkah and Christmas lead to the common misconception that Hanukkah is a religious holiday in Judaism.  I assure you, it is not. 

The truth is, Hanukkah, at least the way it is celebrated in the States, is an Americanized, consumer driven holiday (à la “Hallmark”).  The purpose was to help the Jewish people assimilate into American society in the early 20^th Century. 

Don’t mistake my comments for cynicism.   I embrace consumerism for all it has given us, mainly Black Friday, Cyber Monday, and 20 daily e-mails from Amazon alerting subscribers to a new deal.

Despite the allure of all the holiday discounts, I refuse to set foot near Tysons Corner (the local mall to some, mecca to others) unless stripped of my free will and physically dragged there.  However, this year I made the calculated decision to brave the local outlets over Black Friday weekend. 

Signs jumped out of window displays.  “Entire store 60% off.”  “Additional 20% off items already marked 80% off.”  “Oh hell, just take it.”  I was on cloud nine. 

And then, without warning, a sales associate slammed me back down to reality. 

“Would you like gift receipts with your purchases?” she asked.  I wanted to say yes, but instead I just smiled.  “Nope, three bags and it’s all for me.”

So from one schmuck to another, wishing you a very Happy Holidays!