And a safe holiday to you, too

And a safe holiday to you, too, jerk

By Garrison Frost

Just a few years removed from the terrorist attacks of 2001, I can certainly understand that people are still concerned about their safety. And if you combine the hazards of the war on terrorism with all the other things that threaten our well-being – drunk driving, gang violence, killer viruses and tri-state murder sprees – it is understandable that some people might think it the nicest thing in the world to wish me a safe holiday.

But to all those who would wish me a safe holiday, I would say this: Don't bother.

I don't want a safe holiday. I mean, I do of course want a safe holiday, but I'm hoping for something a little better than that. I want more from Christmas and New Year's than mere survival. I want a happy holiday. I want a joyful holiday. Sure, it's something of a cliché to wish someone a happy holiday, but it's only a cliché because it makes sense. Those who feel trite wishing me a happy holiday can always wish me a terrific holiday or a bitchin' holiday. I won't complain.

I suppose that people who wish me a safe holiday ostensibly have my best interests at heart, and perhaps I should be thankful. But I can't be thankful, because while the greeting is underwhelming, it's also a bit insulting.

What exactly do they think I'm going to do this holiday season that's so unsafe that I need to be reminded to take better care of myself? Thank you, but I wasn't planning on getting into a drunk driving accident or electrocuting myself with the Christmas lights or poisoning myself with a poorly cooked turkey, and I don't appreciate the implication that my holiday will consist of one or all of the above accidents. Really, am I someone who exhibits a total lack of concern for my own safety this time of year? Am I not to be trusted with the holiday like good, safe-thinking people?

When someone wishes me a Merry Christmas, I have a pretty good understanding of what he or she wishes me to do. But how exactly am I supposed to have a safe Christmas? Does that mean I'm supposed to stay away from hors d'oeuvres table lest I choke on a cracker? Should I wear reflective clothing, avoid alcohol entirely or avoid strangers? Or would it just be better if I became such a paranoid freak that I not only ruin my holiday but that of everybody around me?

When someone wishes me a safe holiday, I always get the feeling that it's not about me. It's more about the person giving the greeting and their comfort level with the holiday in question. That might explain why I hear a lot of this kind of thing around Christmas. In order to wish somebody a Merry Christmas, you really have to embrace the holiday itself. But for someone who has some kind of issue with this overtly Christian holiday – and there are a lot of people like this – an easy out might be to just offer some sort of ambiguous support for my well-being.

And then there's New Year's. This is a holiday that apparently is so patently unsafe that people have just stopped wishing me a happy one altogether. Everywhere I go, it's Have a Safe New Year. Banners over the street say this, as do public service messages on radio and television. Heaven forbid they tell you to have a fun New Year's. The same goes for that holiday's troublemaking cousins the Fourth of July, Memorial Day and Labor Day.

Really, if the holidays are so dangerous that the best we can hope for when they roll around every year is safe passage, then we ought to just cancel them now. And I'm guessing that's why the annual summer Knife Juggling Fiesta and the Winter Fire Walk never caught on.

There is something about being wished a safe holiday that falls dreadfully short of the spirit of the thing. And that's why whenever somebody wishes me a safe holiday, I never hesitate to wish them one right back at them.

(December 21, 2004)