Ah, the holidays. Christmas and New Year’s toss us into a potpourri of office parties, festivities with friends, and extended family gatherings. In our mind’s eye, we imagine merry camaraderie, wreaths and Christmas trees, a house filled with the delicious scents of baked cookies and roast turkey, a punchbowl shimmering in candlelight. Some of us who are slow learners walk through the days before Christmas humming “chestnuts roasting on an open fire.”
Well, most of us have never roasted chestnuts on an open fire—or on any fire, for that matter. Likewise, most of us have rarely attended any holiday celebration where some tension wasn’t in play. Longtime grudges simmer just below the surface; politics and religion are time bombs waiting to explode; jealousy and resentment flare up like wild fires in a high wind.
At the office party, Max snipes at Bill about the quality of his work while the office manager, Maureen, has her eye set on Joe, her newly-hired secretary. Steven has made a few too many trips to the open bar and fondles Sally with his eyes. Meanwhile, Jackie weeps in the women’s room, despondent over that text from her boyfriend announcing the end to their relationship.
Closer to home, Mama is stressed out and testy because she is damned tired of her grown children sitting on their duffs in the den while she slaves on Christmas Eve over the stove. Uncle Billy Bob has enjoyed too much of that punch and takes a swing at Uncle Jack. Aunt Delia and Aunt June have once again delved into their political differences and are now sitting at opposite ends of the living room, claws out and hissing at each other with flinty eyes. Cousin Mary isn’t speaking to her husband because he gave her a treadmill for Christmas. Decked out in a black blouse, black jeans, and black makeup, fifteen-year-old Jenny, who now insists that everyone call her “Venus,” sulks on the sofa, refusing to speak and glaring at anyone daring to wish her a “Merry Christmas”.
And there you are, poor reader, smack-dab in the swirl of rancor, alcoholic fumes, and coy insults.
Dicey, yes? But as the angels say, “Be not afraid.” Below you will find some helpful techniques taught to me by books and friends that may deflect insult and injury, and bring peace to the battlefield. If nothing else, these tips may provide amusement when amusement is lacking. Here they are, in no particular order:
“Why do you ask?” A friend taught me to use this expression, and it works wonders. When Aunt Constance asks if you are sleeping with your boyfriend, smile gently at her and say, “Why do you ask?” When you come to work after that office party looking like death on a bad day, and Harry inquires as to whether you had a rough night, offer that same smile and say, “Why do you ask?”
“You’re both right and you’re both wrong, I always say.” Once in high school our class was reading aloud from Silas Marner. I played the part of a pub owner, and that was my line when caught up in a quarrel between two patrons of the bar. Let’s bring it up to speed. Situation: Charlie and Lawrence are arguing about the presidential candidates, with their faces turning redder by the second and their voices knocking flat all the other conversations in the room. Then both of them turn to you, clearly expecting you to take sides. “Well,” you respond, preferably with a sigh, “you’re both right and you’re both wrong, as I always says.” You then practice diversion (See below): “How about those Panthers?”
“You look (pause for two seconds) exquisite.” These three words can charm any woman. (That pause is absolutely necessary, as it implies that you are trying to match the right word to her stunning beauty). “You look good” or “You look fine” fall flat by comparison. So whether it’s your wife emerging from a four hour cooking bout in a steamy kitchen or your girlfriend meeting you for coffee after a post-Christmas trip to the gym, these words can work magic.
“Salaud.” Salaud—pronounced “sal—oh”--is the French word for bastard. It can prove invaluable to you as a release when confronted with a jerk of any kind: a fellow employee, a boss, a relative. Simply raise your glass and offer your nemesis a toast: “Salaud.” He will be pleased, and so will you.
“Immanentize the eschaton.” This old nugget, which essentially means trying to create a heaven on earth, makes for excellent defense when caught up in a political argument—or for that matter, one of those slashing fights with your teenage daughter over her plans for the evening. If you’re on the liberal side of a disagreement and the talk is clearly headed for World War III, you may defuse the situation simply by raising an eyebrow (or a glass) and uttering the words “Immanentize the eschaton.” On the other hand, if you’re a conservative in the same situation, you smile and say, “Well, I’m not sure we should immanentize the eschaton.” With any luck at all, both conflicts will be pacified by the stupefied looks on the faces of those around you, at which point you should change the topic to safer territory (See below: Diversion).
“Really?” You are in the kitchen, helping your grandmother stuff the turkey. She is ranting about one of your brothers, who not only failed to send her a Christmas card but also canceled at the last minute his appearance at dinner. You don’t want to join in this attack on your brother, but at the same time you are rather enjoying this violent take on him by the family matriarch. The repeated us of “Really?” will keep the broadside alive while granting you the appearance of neutrality.
Diversion. Redirecting the attention of others is an art practiced by magicians, military strategists, and some women I know. Situation: Christmas is over and the day of reckoning has arrived. Your husband is poring over the credit card bills. “What’s this?” he says, pointing to the $300 you spent on clothing for yourself at Kohl’s. “Oh, that was for Christmas,” you say. “I picked up a few things—hey, guess what? Did I show you Tiffany’s report card? Look at it. All As except for that C in geography. She must take after you. Remember how much you hated Dr. Clondike’s class? I wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t both taken that class. Do you think she’s still teaching?” Etc. Etc. Etc. You get the idea.
Merry Christmas and a Happy—and Peaceful—New Year.
At the office party, Max snipes at Bill about the quality of his work while the office manager, Maureen, has her eye set on Joe, her newly-hired secretary. Steven has made a few too many trips to the open bar and fondles Sally with his eyes. Meanwhile, Jackie weeps in the women’s room, despondent over that text from her boyfriend announcing the end to their relationship.
Closer to home, Mama is stressed out and testy because she is damned tired of her grown children sitting on their duffs in the den while she slaves on Christmas Eve over the stove. Uncle Billy Bob has enjoyed too much of that punch and takes a swing at Uncle Jack. Aunt Delia and Aunt June have once again delved into their political differences and are now sitting at opposite ends of the living room, claws out and hissing at each other with flinty eyes. Cousin Mary isn’t speaking to her husband because he gave her a treadmill for Christmas. Decked out in a black blouse, black jeans, and black makeup, fifteen-year-old Jenny, who now insists that everyone call her “Venus,” sulks on the sofa, refusing to speak and glaring at anyone daring to wish her a “Merry Christmas”.
And there you are, poor reader, smack-dab in the swirl of rancor, alcoholic fumes, and coy insults.
Dicey, yes? But as the angels say, “Be not afraid.” Below you will find some helpful techniques taught to me by books and friends that may deflect insult and injury, and bring peace to the battlefield. If nothing else, these tips may provide amusement when amusement is lacking. Here they are, in no particular order:
“Why do you ask?” A friend taught me to use this expression, and it works wonders. When Aunt Constance asks if you are sleeping with your boyfriend, smile gently at her and say, “Why do you ask?” When you come to work after that office party looking like death on a bad day, and Harry inquires as to whether you had a rough night, offer that same smile and say, “Why do you ask?”
“You’re both right and you’re both wrong, I always say.” Once in high school our class was reading aloud from Silas Marner. I played the part of a pub owner, and that was my line when caught up in a quarrel between two patrons of the bar. Let’s bring it up to speed. Situation: Charlie and Lawrence are arguing about the presidential candidates, with their faces turning redder by the second and their voices knocking flat all the other conversations in the room. Then both of them turn to you, clearly expecting you to take sides. “Well,” you respond, preferably with a sigh, “you’re both right and you’re both wrong, as I always says.” You then practice diversion (See below): “How about those Panthers?”
“You look (pause for two seconds) exquisite.” These three words can charm any woman. (That pause is absolutely necessary, as it implies that you are trying to match the right word to her stunning beauty). “You look good” or “You look fine” fall flat by comparison. So whether it’s your wife emerging from a four hour cooking bout in a steamy kitchen or your girlfriend meeting you for coffee after a post-Christmas trip to the gym, these words can work magic.
“Salaud.” Salaud—pronounced “sal—oh”--is the French word for bastard. It can prove invaluable to you as a release when confronted with a jerk of any kind: a fellow employee, a boss, a relative. Simply raise your glass and offer your nemesis a toast: “Salaud.” He will be pleased, and so will you.
“Immanentize the eschaton.” This old nugget, which essentially means trying to create a heaven on earth, makes for excellent defense when caught up in a political argument—or for that matter, one of those slashing fights with your teenage daughter over her plans for the evening. If you’re on the liberal side of a disagreement and the talk is clearly headed for World War III, you may defuse the situation simply by raising an eyebrow (or a glass) and uttering the words “Immanentize the eschaton.” On the other hand, if you’re a conservative in the same situation, you smile and say, “Well, I’m not sure we should immanentize the eschaton.” With any luck at all, both conflicts will be pacified by the stupefied looks on the faces of those around you, at which point you should change the topic to safer territory (See below: Diversion).
“Really?” You are in the kitchen, helping your grandmother stuff the turkey. She is ranting about one of your brothers, who not only failed to send her a Christmas card but also canceled at the last minute his appearance at dinner. You don’t want to join in this attack on your brother, but at the same time you are rather enjoying this violent take on him by the family matriarch. The repeated us of “Really?” will keep the broadside alive while granting you the appearance of neutrality.
Diversion. Redirecting the attention of others is an art practiced by magicians, military strategists, and some women I know. Situation: Christmas is over and the day of reckoning has arrived. Your husband is poring over the credit card bills. “What’s this?” he says, pointing to the $300 you spent on clothing for yourself at Kohl’s. “Oh, that was for Christmas,” you say. “I picked up a few things—hey, guess what? Did I show you Tiffany’s report card? Look at it. All As except for that C in geography. She must take after you. Remember how much you hated Dr. Clondike’s class? I wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t both taken that class. Do you think she’s still teaching?” Etc. Etc. Etc. You get the idea.
Merry Christmas and a Happy—and Peaceful—New Year.