Oh No! The Generic Holiday Newsletters Are Coming!

Back by popular demand! For my end-of month repost, here is that heartwarming Christmas Holiday story that you have all been waiting for…

Each year as Christmas approaches I get a number of Holiday letters from friends and family.

Of course I enjoy reading them, but I can’t help but notice an alarming trend of these generic-style family newsletters on the rise. It appears that these impersonal summaries of the mundane accomplishments of the children, grandchildren and pets have somehow become a firmly established tradition in America, especially among the churched. I don’t know who started it, or why it has caught on so fast, or why these people think the world will be so interested in their lives, but I would wager the Generic Holiday Newsletter is here to stay.

In my tribe, there is one particular family that truly outshines all the other newsletter-writers each and every year; but in a bad way. This particular family pushes the limits, goes over the top, above and beyond your most distasteful imagination. If there was a contest for the most obnoxious Holiday Letter in America, this family would be certain to win, hands down.

Each year as my wife and I anticipate the arrival of the “letter” in question, we assure ourselves that there is simply no possibility of them outdoing their previous atrocity, or that surely this season some level of awareness would dawn on the unwitting writers regarding their poor taste and blatant elitism. Or, we hope that perhaps a gentle but firm suggestion has made its way from some close kin, advising them to tone it down a bit. But, alas, each Christmas season appears a newsletter more vile, more self-promoting and one-upping than the year before.

The saddest part about it is that we know their lives are not as great as their letter makes it appear. Everybody knows. We know about their struggles, the days-at-a-time without getting out of bed depression, the social isolation, and the marital strain. So what? Each of us has our own set of unpleasantries to deal with. Why go so far out of your way to pretend? I can barely imagine what kind of effort it must take to build a façade of perfection for the outside world to see. Instead of the truth, we read a ravishing story of success, glamour, travel, and accomplishment, replete with photos, and many, many references to career advancements and their child’s outstanding achievements. And I want to hurl.

Each December, without fail, the letter arrives and we go through the same machinations as the last. It sits on the kitchen table unopened, untouched for a few days. We eye the letter from a safe distance, circling and poking at the repulsive envelope as if it were a bloody, mutilated animal the dog drug in from the woods. Speaking in hushed tones, we swear that it’s going in the trash, any minute. But it doesn’t move.

After a couple more days we soften up, becoming more convivial and friendly towards That Letter. We convince ourselves that the writers have repented, that this year is the year they have truly embraced the Christmas spirit with newfound humility and thanksgiving. Perhaps we should give them a chance? The letter sits on the table and mocks our indecision. Like passengers who can not resist gawking at a drive-by car accident, we ultimately give in to our morbid curiosity, daring to open the envelope and read it, even though it will probably make us sick and bitter.

It never disappoints.

Honestly, the generic Holiday Newsletter we got from this particular family this year looked more like a resume than anything having to do with Christmas or Chanukah or holidays or good cheer. Instead, it’s about the yacht club, sailboat racing, jewelry making, the soccer trophies, academic awards, and a host of career achievements and accolades.

It is quite obnoxious.

It’s not that I mind reading about the good fortune of my close friends and relatives. What bothers me is the subtle superiority and condescending tone that they take. I want to write a form letter back to them that says,

“Thank you for your application. Unfortunately, we have found another family who was better suited to meet our interests this holiday season. We wish you the best in your future endeavors.”

It baffles me why some people have to pretend how great their lives are, like they are in some kind of competition. It’s as if my relatives are hoping that everyone will read their letter, judge their lives to be worthy and allow their family to continue on for another year.

I’d rather see a letter that talks about what a tough year they’ve had, right alongside the good news, where they honestly face up to the difficulties of their life, and ask for our support and prayers. Because, like most people, I take great comfort in hearing about the troubles of others. It makes me feel a little bit better about my own situation.

“Hey honey – did you read about how terrible the Johnson’s have it? What a relief! We’re really not doing as bad as I thought!”

That’s why we love the tabloids and Oprah and Dr. Phil, because we see the parade of dysfunctional losers spouting off about their problems and it makes us feel that things in our own lives are not so bad after all. It gives us a little perspective. Let’s face it, life is hard. We all struggle. People may be good at hiding it, but like my mother says, “Everyone Has Problems.” I don’t care who you are, how much money you have, or how fantabulous your life looks like from a safe distance. When you dig in a little bit and look behind the picture-perfect image, you will inevitably find cracks in the glass. So why try to deny it?

But the smug authors of this atrocious Christmas letter just can’t stop themselves from promoting a prideful and attention-seeking “our lives are better than yours” message. They are oblivious, and surely will strike again next year. I’m fuming over their shallow arrogance, their artificial insincerity. I need to do something about this.

I want to teach these people a lesson.

“I’m going to write a letter even worse than theirs, more obnoxious and show-offy, and send it to them!” I say to my wife, Beth. “They think they’ve had a good year? Well, they ain’t seen nothin’ yet. Our Holiday Letter will make them froth with envy. They’ll want to go out and kill themselves after they see our letter.”

“No, don’t do that” says Beth, calmly, sensibly. “You’ll just be stooping to their level.”

“But how else will they ever get the message, until they see a letter that is even more ridiculous than theirs? If they want to be so competitive, then let the games begin. We have a lot more achievements than they have.”

I begin recounting the various awards, achievements and victories that could fill our letter. I am drunk on the prospects of our Holiday Letter. Beth talks me down.

“It won’t lead to any good. If you’re so upset by it, why don’t you just call them and tell them to take us off their mailing list?”

Speak to them directly? I am offended! I would never dare to be so direct and forthright. Why, that might hurt their feelings! I’d much rather whine about their behavior behind their backs.

The calls start coming in from family members who are also on the mailing list, each one at first feigns a carefree detachment. After a few obligatory preliminaries, it comes out: “Did you see the letter?” they ask, licking their lips, barely able to contain their loathsome delight. “Wasn’t it horrible?” And so this goes on for several days, until we all work it out of our system.

Well, this year, after a great deal of honest reflection and prayerful consideration (not really), I am finally going to do something about it. Instead of writing a self-promoting holiday letter proclaiming the greatness of my family’s life, I thought it would be a good idea to do the opposite.

Instead, I will send out a sort of Anti-Self-Promotional Holiday Newsletter, focusing on the lowlights from our life the year past. You know, just to be really genuine for a change about all the annoying, depressing, and irritating things that happened over the year.

I figure we’re all in the same boat, most of us. Raising kids alone throws a wrench into our peace and free time. Then add a demanding job, financial pressures, family tensions, the bad economy, mood swings, middle-aging, your spouse’s job, ailing parents, health issues, and, well, that to me smells more like a normal family’s life. Yes, my Generic Holiday Letter will be chock-full of disappointments, bad news, and frightening developments.

I will send those people a letter that will really open their eyes to the harsh truth of real life.

That will show them.

Click here if you want to read my pathetic anti-promotional generic Holiday family newsletter from last year. Go ahead, it will cheer you up!