Posts Tagged ‘Christmas’

>Nostalgia for Bing Crosby & Christmas Tree Cookies

Monday, December 24th, 2012

If you’re seeking out a public relations blog, you may be disappointed in this one. (Feel free to read back issues.) But since you’re seeking out a public relations blog on Christmas Eve, you may have come to the right place, after all. For this edition has less to do with public relations than private ones. It’s more about those thoughts and emotions that, this time of year, we may keep to ourselves for noble reasons, but which are okay to express.

Let me start by saying I love Christmas. From every angle, I love Christmas. The lapsed Catholic in me loves a beautifully sung Ave Maria as much as the child in me loves a stop-motion Holly Jolly Christmas. I love a tasteful, twinkling, white light yardscape and I fully appreciate a tacky lawn mashup featuring everyone from the Grinch to the Magi. I love an Ina Garten buffet as much as I do LaVerdiere’s ribbon candy and peanut brittle. I will not miss a showing of White Christmas, Holiday Inn, or The Bishop’s Wife. (I don’t, however, wear reindeer sweaters or jewelry that lights up. Nor do I judge others who do.)

For all of this, we can thank—or blame—my mother. A child of The Great Depression (the first one), she went above and beyond at Christmastime for her family. Slinkeys and Silly String for everyone! Of course you can use them in the house, it’s Christmas! Hot chocolate and cinnamon rolls after midnight mass, Christmas tree cookies while we open presents. It’s 5 a.m.? So, what! It’s Christmas! My mother used to paraphrase Guy Lombardo, saying, “When I go, I’m taking Christmas with me!”

And for a while there, she kinda did.

In his beautiful novel, Ignorance, Milan Kundera wrote about nostalgia: “The Greek word for ‘return’ is nostos. Algos means ‘suffering.’ So nostalgia is the suffering caused by an unappeased yearning to return.”

Believe me, I know from nostalgia.

For several Christmases after my mother died, I went through the motions of enjoying Christmas. Her own joy of Christmas was half of mine. As family Christmases migrated from my parents’ home to ours, I took great pleasure in replicating what she had done and basking in her delight—and approval. Cherished ornaments or decorations marked our Christmases through the decades. Favorite recipes stirred happy memories of countless family Christmases. With her not here to preside over Christmas, well, what was the point?

While I’ve regained my hearty embrace of Christmas, there are moments each season when I am gripped with true nostalgia, that unappeased yearning to return either to my mother’s kitchen or to when she sat in mine. So, I bake Christmas cookies, play Bing Crosby, sing Ave Maria, and believe in Santa Clause because my mother did. I carry on the traditions of our family celebrations so that her grandchildren don’t forget her and so that her great grandchildren, whom she never met, will know her just a little. Never one to shun the spotlight, my mother would appreciate knowing she’s still front and center.

I started writing on this topic because a good number of my friends lost parents this year and they’re about to experience their first Christmas without them. Nostalgia, in all its bittersweetness, is sure to find them. Burying our parents may be the natural order of things, but it’s little comfort at any time of year, least of all at Christmas.

A bit of advice that took me years to figure out: our parents gave us these traditions for just this purpose—to carry on when they’re no longer with us. So when nostalgia comes calling this Christmas, embrace it. And hand it a Christmas tree cookie.

Felicia Knight is President of Knight Vision International, LLC

Photo of Felicia Knight’s childhood Santas by Felicia Knight

>O Tree With Lights, O Tree With Lights: A Holiday Marketing Misstep

Tuesday, December 7th, 2010

Shakespeare made the point – and made it well – that it matters not what something is called, but what it is. “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” Let me play devil’s advocate, however, first by invoking my least favorite reportorial cliché: ’Tis the season.

It’s the holiday season. By “holiday” we mean everything from All Saints Day to Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, New Year’s, Orthodox Christmas, Boxing Day, and the Feast of the Epiphany. When we send holiday cards, host holiday parties, and partake in holiday sales, we gather up friends – and customers – of all persuasions. We pat ourselves on the back for being politically, and even ecumenically, correct.

I can live with that. On a personal level, I’m mindful to send the appropriate greeting to the appropriate friends. At the same time, is it so wrong to hope that everyone enjoys the Christmas season or the eight nights of Hanukkah? Is it the height of rudeness to hope that the spirits of all these holidays could intermingle and rub off on all celebrants? Wouldn’t we rather have an abundance of holiday influences infusing our comings and goings this time of year than none at all?

Apparently not. A group of merchants in a nearby city has taken PC-ness to ridiculous lengths. Following a decades-long tradition, on the Friday after Thanksgiving, a downtown business group lit a 50-foot blue spruce in the city square. You and I would call this a Christmas tree. Even if you and I were Jewish, Muslim, Agnostic, or Atheist, we still would recognize this as a Christmas tree. But this year, in a frenzy of inclusiveness, the merchants elected to call it a “tree with lights.”

A Christmas tree was unwelcome at the lighting ceremony, yet Santa Claus was front and center. Apparently a “tree with lights” made sense where a “man with red suit” was just silly. (Perhaps Santa’s association with gifts allowed him to make the cut with the merchants.)

People still came to see the tree with lights, but many did so baffled by the embarrassing idiocy of the merchants’ association and its defense that “words matter.” Yes. Yes they do.

O tree with lights, O tree with lights,
How lovely are your branches.

Days later, on the first night of Hanukkah, in the same city, there was a city-sponsored menorah lighting ceremony. City officials didn’t call it a candelabrum with lights. They called it a menorah and acknowledged its significance to Hanukkah with remarks from a local rabbi. Citizens of all faiths were invited to enjoy the celebration – and they did. Many came away with new understanding and appreciation for a holiday that isn’t their own, but is a part of the world in which they live.

These two events were perfect illustrations of good and bad marketing – in which what something is called mattered as much as what it is. How did the city get it so right and the merchants’ association get it so wrong?

Both wanted to prove that downtown is a welcoming place that includes everyone and excludes no one. The business association stripped the tree of the obvious Christmas connection, apparently hoping that all non-Christians would think of the giant tree with lights as heralding the shopping season and nothing more, while the city held an overtly religious ceremony open to the public with an explanation of the tradition, a call for peace, a reiteration of the importance of religious freedom and tolerance… not to mention free latkes.

Guess who got the good publicity and guess who got a week’s worth of public ridicule?

A rose by any other name would, indeed, smell as sweet. But sometimes a tree with lights is just a cigar.

Felicia Knight is President of Knight Vision International, LLC: www.KnightVisionInternational.com

Image: Girl From South