Sitting
One
The
Assignment
Shelley
knew this was her moment. Well, at least one of those moments that
stops off and quickly demands you board the bus or end up sitting on
the bench hoping for another transport.
At
twenty-four years of age, it was unusual for a prestigious public
relations firm like Dunlevy and Markins to grant such a project to a
newbie. She knew this. More importantly, they knew this. "They"
being Mr. Roger Dunlevy and Mr. Ronald Markins.
Shelley
didn't want to blow it. She needed to project the right balance of
confidence and serious contemplation over the magnitude of the task.
Did she understand the assignment?
Find
a new commercial name for Christmas that merged the many existing
holiday observances of a variety of faiths with the more traditional
approach, while still emphasizing the Santa Claus imperative for the
children and the marketeers.
A
part of Shelley was saddened by the job. For years there had been a
growing conflict between the religious and more conventional
advocates over the holiday.
The
believers wanted more "Jesus" included or emphasis for
Hanukkah. Of course, then Kwanza came into play.
The
rest of the country seemed to be looking for a festive season free of
Middle-East theology.
Of
course, the great problem was the money. This December season was a
financial boost to business. Some retailers made as much as ninety
percent of their funds in the twelfth month. Much on the line. A
bottom line.
And
for Shelley, a career maker.
She
was informed that she could hire four other people for her team. She
had already decided on her quartet.
Mike,
from accounting, was an evangelical Christian. He could bring the
perspective of the church community.
Lisa,
an executive assistant, was Jewish. She should know about Hanukkah.
Charmaine,
an admin...well, she was black. Chances are she might be able to tap
the Kwanza sentiment.
And
Timothy, a tech, was a Christmas nut--a historian of sorts concerning
all things Santa, elf, North Pole and tinsel.
Shelley
told her team that they had three weeks to deliver a report in front
of the boss and major stockholders. Short fuse on a big bomb.
Here
were the questions that needed to be addressed:
1.
Will all the parties involved consider a new name for Christmas?
2.
What can be retained, what evolved and what discarded of the
traditions?
3.
What is the best approach? A sudden transformation?: Or a gradual
revelation?
4.
Will it damage sales?
5.
How can we make everybody happy?
Shelley
decided to give the four of them ten days to investigate and deliver
her a two thousand-word report on their findings. Simultaneously, she
would troll the waters of all four environments to acquire a general
consensus.
Shelley
was nervous. It wasn't just the new assignment--she wondered if she
wanted to be the Madison Avenue chick who snuffed out Christmas--at
least the name. She envisioned herself in a Grinch costume, tallying
numbers on an old-fashioned adding machine, as Baby Jesus was carried
away by Children's Services and elves cried over "reindeer for
sale."
She
looked horrible as a green monster. Yet...it was her moment. A moment
to enhance her personal profile and give Christmas a name-lift. She
suddenly grabbed her pen and paper and wrote that down.
Name-lift.
She
could sell that.
It
was a good start.
Sitting
Two
The
Investigation
Mike
went home to Tarshift, Alabama, to do his research.
Tarshift
was a suburb of Birmingham if you don't mind driving forty-five miles
to get your hot buttered popcorn at the Metroplex.
Mike
arrived in time to attend the worship service at the Community Faith
in Action Non-Denominational church just four blocks from his
homestead.
When
Mike shared the nature of his present project, two old ladies and a
grumpy deacon stomped out of the Sunday School class. The remaining
faithful were respectful of their favorite son, but grouchy over the
liberal West Coast atheists attacking Holy Christmas once again.
"Why
cain't they just see that it's Jesus' birthday?" one woman
snarled.
Yet
persistent to a fault, Mike continued his questioning. "What
name would
you accept other than Christmas?"
Silence.
No
one in the classroom wanted to betray Baby Jesus. So Mike asked the
gathered to think about it and slip him a note or suggestion after
church.
As
he walked by the pastor, offering his appreciation, and headed to his
car, Mike got three crumpled pieces of paper thrust into his hand,
and one whisper in his ear.
The
first note read, "How about Bethlehem Day?"
He
unfolded the second note, which had scrawled, "I thought of
Birth Boy."
And
the final suggestion was, "Jesus Fest."
By
the way, the whisper in his ear--Old Lady Wilkerson. She said, "I'm
praying for you."
Lisa
also returned to her home, which was in Connecticut, near Hartford.
She went to synagogue. She hadn't been there since high school
graduation. The new rabbi, Conrad Turtsky, was delighted to talk to
her about Hanukkah. She explained in some detail about her task as
the rabbi's countenance remained unchanged, sporting a reluctant
smile.
At
length she asked him what he thought.
"Well,"
he began hesitantly, "I have always been content with Hanukkah
getting the crap beat out of it by Christmas. After all, candles
being lit...well, don't hold a candle to angels, wise men and a
heavy-set Dutchman giving toys to little ones."
He
concluded their visit by giving Lisa a pamphlet on the subject, half
of which was written in Yiddish.
Charmaine
made a decision to go to the Internet and look up Kwanza on
Wikipedia.
Kwanza:
an
African-American holiday first celebrated in 1966-1967 as an
alternative to the "white" Christmas. It is one week long
and honors African music, folklore and art.
Charmaine
shook her head. She closed the program, rolled her eyes and went to
her bedroom to take a nap.
Timothy
made a trip to Bronner's Christmas Village in Frankenmuth,
Michigan--the world's largest Christmas store. He was in heaven,
which he viewed as only slightly above the North Pole. Reindeer,
elves, lights, tinsels, Christmas bulbs, Santa Claus, snow
globes--row after row.
He
asked one of the floor managers what were the biggest sellers?
"Anything
with Claus, mangers or sparkles," he answered, as he hurriedly
chased a little boy who had a huge box of ornaments in his grasp.
So
Timothy decided to conduct his own experiment. He had personally
compiled a list of six possible "safe" new names for
Christmas. It was his plan to walk up to shoppers at Bronners, say
one of the new names, and gauge their spontaneous reaction.
"Wonderful
Winterfest!" A blank stare.
"Satisfying
Santa Day!" A giggle.
"A
Joyous Snow 'n Glow to you!" A frown, and then Grandpa stomped
away.
He
was particularly proud of his next incarnation.
He
had formed an acronym of Santa, elf, Jesus, reindeer, Africa and
Hanukkah.
"Happy
S.E.J.R. A. H!"
The
old woman stared at him with sympathetic eyes, reached into her
purse, pulled out two singles and gave it to him, saying, "Young
man, get a sandwich. You've got low blood sugar."
He
only had one idea remaining. So Timothy decided to try it out on the
in-house Kris Kringle; Father Christmas--Santa Claus himself.
Arriving in the tiny workshop provided for the local jolly old elf,
Timothy leaned into his face and said, "Great Jubilation!"
Santa
squinted. He slowly tugged his beard and deadpanned, "Ho. Ho.
Ho."
Mike
prayed that Shelley had better luck. He had barely escaped
crucifixion in Tarshift.
Lisa
was baffled, although the rabbi did convince her to buy a Menorah and
two raffle tickets for the Prius being given away to raise funds for
the needy.
Charmaine
was frightened--first to report to Shelley, and secondly about being
black and not caring one tinker's dam about Kwanza.
Timothy
was more optimistic. Or maybe just on a sugar high from a candy cane
overdose.
The
four of them headed back to headquarters.
It
was time to report to Shelley.
Next Installment February 13th
