Earlier this week, I dropped a line to CDR about my intent to write a series of posts extolling the wonders of the Christmas season. Then, some sugar cookies, a house full of people, and my White Elephant gift — a Jim Beam Red Stag Party Pack! — got in the way.
Fortunately, at The Weekly Standard, Joseph Bottum makes part of the argument I intended to. He writes,
Christmas doesn’t want to come pussyfooting around toward the middle of December, in the diffident, slightly apologetic way of modern religion—waving its pseudopods as though to say, “Well, yes, it is rather old-fashioned, but the elderly parishioners like it, and it does have a kind of modern meaning, if one stops to think about it.” Christmas wants to stomp in and take over the calendar, and if everything as far back as Halloween gets shoved into a corner as a result, well, that’s just fine with Christmas. It’s the bigfoot at the party. Any party it can find.
Whole thing here. Thanks Joe.