Tonight I have to go to Cold Fire's school for "Winter Festival." He's singing a song with his class, and is very excited about it. He tells me about this little shindig YESTERDAY, mind you, and at first I said 'no' on the grounds that he should have bloody well told me about it well before now. Then he sat around with big teary puppy dog eyes all night, so I relented with the admonition that next time he gives me advance warning or else he can forget about it. I was annoyed because I already had plans for this evening, but mostly because I hate school functions, especially ones that relate to the holiday.
They have this "Winter Festival" every year. I never go because because Christmas programs that aren't called Christmas programs irritate the shit out of me. The school describes it thusly: "This free event will showcase how cultures from around the world celebrate winter holidays."
I prefer to call it "Wiccapalooza." This is probably unfair, as well as grossly innacurate, but it's funny so I'm sticking with it.
I could not care less about what winter holidays other people celebrate. I realize that this probably makes me a blinkered asswipe of a curmudgeon, and I do not give a shit. All those pagans can knock their collective tie-dyed socks off and spend the entire month of December dancing around pine trees in the nude and singing "The Ballad of John and Yoko" in Latin, for all I care. I don't know what Muslims do for Ramadan, and as long as it doesn't involve blowing shit up they may have at it. Perform some clitoridectomies in the name of Allah, why don't you? It's of no nevermind to me. Jews may light a menorah and put on some Adam Sandler; Satanists can skin some baby rabbits and drink their blood in front of a pile of flaming hymens. As the man says, "It's the holiday season, so whoop-de-doo!!" I'll just be over here watching "A Charlie Brown Christmas" under my garish decorated tree, thank you very much.
I understand that schools feel they have an obligation to make sure that no one feels left out and that all their bases are covered. Or more accurately, they must not offend anyone or else they'll get the ass sued off'em.
Still, I get nostalgic for Christmas programs like the ones they had when I was in school. I want to sit in a school auditorium and listen teary-eyed as my child stands amidst a pack of nose-picking 8-year-olds singing about the Baby Jesus and Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer. This, however, would be very unfair to little Rhiannon and little Akbar and little Shlomo.
Rhiannon and Akbar and Shlomo can kiss my butt.