I’ve always loved Christmas, and the holiday season in general. Everything about it—the tiny incandescent bulbs raggedly strung around trees in every neighborhood, the oft-bewildering romanticization of snowfall, even the rabid deal-scavenging shoppers that plague the malls until New Year’s. There’s a certain energy that persists from Thanksgiving to New Years that, while powerfully fueled by the Great Provider that is American capitalism, is sold as an appreciation for what and who we have in our lives, that I can’t get enough of come winter.
