Whining About How I Miss Christmas

Boy, I miss Christmas.
The old kind of Christmas.
Without all the 'commercialism'.
When Christmas was free!
It costs nothing to bask in the spirit of the season.
There were no gaudy electric lights...
...powered by the filth of burning fossil fuel.
We decorated with piles of rocks and sticks.
We saved our fingernail clippings and used them to construct festive wreaths.
Before Christmas became a 'for profit' industry, we didn't have greeting cards.
Instead, we carved yuletide greetings on tree bark...
...bundled them together and burned them.
Mailing things costs money.
We didn't travel either.
Why should holiday traditions line the oil executive's pockets?
Instead, we hunkered alone in unheated caves and savored life's simple things.
A blanket of new fallen snow was all that we needed to warm our hearts.
No phone calls.
No text messages.
No internet.
Nothing but the untainted spirit of humanity.
So thick it could choke a reindeer.
We did exchange gifts.
But they weren't vitiated by capitalistic corruption.
Our gifts were simple gestures of good will.
A smile.
An affirming nod.
One of my fondest Christmas memories is the year my grandfather, as a gift to me...
...jostled my hair vigorously.
I miss this Christmas.
Corporate greed ensures that it will never again be so beautifully uncomplicated.
Shame.