That’s a Wrap on Christmas

My dog Roxy and I frequently walk by a Mercedes dealership on our morning excursions. At this time of year, the high-end autos are adorned with big red-and-white bows. There is a rather large, decorated tree too. The fancy-car folks are not fooling about Christmas.

Who gets that?

Who gets a vehicle which costs roughly the same as a small condo in Oklahoma City for a Christmas gift? I confess to muttering this question to an incurious Shepherd/Lab each and every time we pass by.

Lexus started it all. They created the whole “gift wrapped” car campaign as a way to have a sale without losing the appearance of luxury. Instead of putting up huge “Sale” signs, they urged customers to come experience a “December to Remember”. Prices were indeed slashed as the company tried to make its year-end goals, but there were pretty bows and a slogan so things wouldn’t look cheap.

The bows, by the way, are not cheap. According to the Wall Street Journal, the giant adornments start at $450 and can go as high as $800. If a customer wants to present the car to their loved one with a bow on it, they can borrow one, but it must be returned. They would be happy to sell you a $200,000 vehicle, but you ain’t getting the bow. They are keeping the bow.

A Mercedes for Christmas … dang.

Christmas was not what I had planned. And boy, had I planned. I had booked lots of festive outings with loved ones. There was going to be a trip to Calabasas with two nieces to see a Winter Wonderland display. There were reservations on the books for not one but two fancy dinners, and then the crowning event of another niece’s 40th birthday party in Las Vegas. She was born on the big day, and there were big plans.

And they all ran up against the big ol’ brick wall which is COVID. Arghhhhh!

Roxy and I stayed home for the week instead, leaving only for walks and one quick trip to Urgent Care for a throat culture. The disease is morphing so rapidly that the advice on the internet cannot keep up. It warns of complications for a sore throat lasting longer than two days. They told me at the clinic that this version of COVID sports sore throat symptoms for eight to ten days.

Who knew?

No one. None of us know a damned thing, and the minute we think we know something it changes on us. The only thing for certain is that it’s a weird disease.

It has been difficult to concentrate and I still feel a bit foggy, but things are clearing. I managed to skirt around the edges of depression, but there were a few low moments. I read that at least 50% of people who get COVID experience depression from it. Hopefully we will understand all of it more clearly one day and avoid those pitfalls.

I did not exactly lose my sense of taste, but lots of things tasted weird or bad or not like they are supposed to. I would crave something and make it, then taste it and hate it and throw it down the sink. At one point I wanted Hot and Sour soup. I was sure that would make me feel better. Forty dollars and a DoorDash later, it tasted like dirty socks. Yucko. Thankfully chicken soup worked every time, and somehow tuna salad was a winner. This episode was exhausting and swallowing hurt like crazy, but it wasn’t hella horrible. Though the timing sucked and the isolation was discomfiting.

The memory of lockdown still haunts most of us. It was a lonely and frustrating time. I remember my sisters and I made a plan to watch an opera performance on Easter when the pandemic was raging through the world. I was alone in Austin, and they were hunkered down in LA, and the plan was to FaceTime so we could see it together. The event was nearly foiled by my ineptitude, I could not get YouTube to work on my TV. I actually cried in frustration, and then Laura cried in sympathy. Sarah, ever the sensible one, got on the phone and told me how to get it on my laptop, and Easter was saved. The concert managed to be a shared experience, which was something I dearly craved.

COVID was everywhere this Christmas: Nancy’s trainer tested positive, putting the kibosh on her family’s plans; Frank got sick upon arrival at the ski lodge he and Sara were to occupy; Eugene and Steven had to be separated by glass doors; the big gathering at the farm postponed until Eugene stopped testing positive; Kathleen has it and several others in the extended friend group. The virus itself is a bit tamer, but it still packs a punch and caution insists that we force-quit our lives until it runs its course, which is no damned fun.

So that’s a wrap on this particular holiday. I am dismantling the decorations and getting ready to welcome a new year. There is a lot to look forward to and a few plans on the books, but in our new normal those may or may not come to fruition. I guess I will just have to give the whole “living in the moment” thing a whirl. Who knows what the future holds for any of us?

One thing is for sure, life is a gift and it doesn’t need a bow.

On we go …