Merry Christmas, World! By Whitney Farmer – Un Pop Culture

December 22, 2010 Whitney Farmer 9 Comments

Whitney runs a rock music venue on the beach in L.A. She has an M.B.A., and is in a mood to celebrate.

My parents are comforting each other after having to kill a line of ants that sought refuge in their house from the deluge. Outside, the rain continues. Tomorrow, I am picking up my beloved little sister at LAX from her NYC flight a few hours before her darling near-jailbait husband arrives – like Batman – without notice and exactly when you need him. The good-humored kitchen wars will begin as competitors jostle for enough space for their personalities as well as their creations. My sister, who once cried, ‘Who put these tomatoes in the refrigerator?!?! Their personality is RUINED!…’ is expected to contend again with our dad, who wordlessly and mercilessly puts on his white chef’s coat when Go Time officially begins. Meanwhile, our mom has been baking cookies for over a week as she refines family recipes, happy to be domestic as long as she can qualify it as part of a chemistry experiment. Another beloved sister is arriving with her beloved rocket scientist on Christmas Eve. With her subversive comedy material ripped from the diary of a public school teacher, and her husband’s remarkable archiving infrastructure which allows the rest of us to coast and even get tipsy – knowing that pictures will be taken, captioned, and filed before we’ve out of our pajamas – their arrival is better than even the mythic Santa. Our beautiful oldest sister is preparing the mansion she shares with her ruthless mogul (who cries during the elimination round of Pussy Cat Dolls) for a house full of guests, and praying that we will get enough sunshine to allow the sisters to sunbathe naked on her roof at least one day.
Every family has traditions to celebrate.

I was asked at the club last week about what I was hoping to get for Christmas. I drew a blank. I have all that my heart desires. There are hopes that haven’t yet become flesh and blood, concrete and steel. But they already exist. Unseen, but a reason to be thankful and celebrate.

Last night, for the first time in 456 years, a full lunar eclipse occurred simultaneously with the Winter solstice. The vision of this was obscured in L.A. because of the ‘atmospheric river’, as the Weather Channel termed it, which has settled over our land. Despite the truth of my not seeing the event happen, it did. Speaking as one with a phenomenal lens prescription that thick-framed black cat-eye Ray Bans are barely able to support, the limitation of my senses doesn’t change what is true and won’t change my sense of awe. There was a time when human tribes believed that lunar eclipses were an evil portent, and that the solstice must be defined only as the darkest day of the year. But what can also honestly be said is that eclipses are what provided primitive astronomers with revelations including that the world is round, and that the solstice also represents the moment in time when darkness begins to decrease and the earth has begun to shift towards Spring. It takes time for warmth and light to be realized. Like a large ship, the vessel moves sometimes imperceptivity after the order has been given. But the change has begun.

Thinking of all the times in my life when I have been surprised when good things happen, I am ashamed. In my pessimism, how many complaints have fallen from my lips and clouded the view of warmth and light of those around me, like an eclipse? Have my fears and sadnesses caused others to view the movements in the heavens with dread rather than awe? If I choose to celebrate, can this cause part of a shift that allows a prophesy to be realized? Someone told me today that Fate is a hunter. It seeks us, and contrary to my presumptions, it does not have to be malevolent. Like the moon coming out from the shadow of the earth, I choose to step away from any obstacles to lifting my face to the sun. Only from that position, can I reflect light and warmth. And get a suntan, hopefully with no tan lines.

Quote of the Blog from Ed, Dude of Light and Fog: “Merry Christmas, Darlin’”