Santa's Little Helpers, The Others

It's Christmas Eve and I'm thinking about Hermey the Elf.  Remember him?  He was one of Santa's Helpers who didn't want to make toys; he didn't have a knack for it like all the other elves.  Instead, he had dreams of becoming a dentist.  Creepy.  When I think about it, the whole concept of Santa's Helpers is a bit 'off.'  As a child, it seemed natural to me to think there were little people on some far side of the world who liked making me toys.  My parents remember me asking if elves ever get tired of working for Santa.  As I understood, this is what they were created to do.  Elves wouldn't be happy otherwise.  Santa's Helpers lived for this stuff.  All was perfectly acceptable in my 5 year old mind.  In fact, it gave me more incentive to be a good little girl, and not a naughty one, so I could help the elves fulfill their purpose in making me more toys.
I'm a bit older now, and I wonder if I could feed this fairytale to other children.  I would want my kids to experience the wonder and imagination that can come with Christmas, but not at the cost of skewing reality to this extent.
Let's examine the elf figure.  Elves are "other."  Elves look different from us regular folk.  They have smaller bodies, bigger ears and perma-smiles.  They live far away from us.  They work 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and they like it.  They work at Santa's Headquarters which often resembles a factory assembly line; dream-like working conditions for the little workers.  They thrive off the efficiency.    We can accept this because they aren't really people, in the sense that we are people.  The minor separation between us and them makes it ok, right?  We're of a different kind. 
So, where do our toys come from?  Who makes them?  Are these toy makers happy?  Are they smiling?  Do they live to please a Santa figure?  Do they have a choice?
I think if the day comes when I'm responsible for telling my kids a Christmas story, it won't revolve around an ideology that benefits our comfortable lifestyle.  Our Christmas story has greed plastered all over it to the point that we can't even admire a tree in its natural habitat.  We have to chop it down and prop it up in our living rooms and accessorize the sap out of it.  Why not go for a walk and admire the natural beauty of a pine tree? 
It's time to re-invent Christmas.  I'm bored with it, and these toys suck.

Bingo, Our Chance At Happiness

I played Bingo this weekend.  It was my first time.  I did it because there was a big flashy sign that told me “Happiness is Shouting Bingo” as I walked down King St.  Who doesn’t want happiness?!  Not me, so I gave it a try.  I wanted to see first hand what this happiness looked like. It turned out to be unhappy, at least for me.  If I could rephrase the Bingo slogan it would say something like, “While happiness may be experienced for the one person shouting bingo, there is no happiness to be found for anyone else playing.” Put that in your dabber and stamp it. 
I know quite a few people who would find my critique offensive because Bingo is near and dear to their hearts and if that is you, please know I mean no harm to the hopeful bingo player.  My words go out to those who wish to examine both sides of the bingo card.  While there might be some convincing arguments for the temporary pleasure found in Bingo Culture, is there not also some measure of pain?  Bingo is a $6 billion Industry in North America.  I'm curious as to why that is.  What's the hook?  

Upon arrival to the Bingo Hall, I asked how much it would be for a bingo book that I overheard the people in front of me order and the reply was $35.  $35?!  I didn’t have that much money to spend on luck so I bought one card for a twoonie, and I was generously lent a bingo ink dabber as I hadn’t come equipped with my own.  I immediately felt at a disadvantage.  To make matters worse, I forgot to bring my lucky charms!  Doh!  There goes my chance at happiness.  This $35 charge was due to the “Big Win” that happens on the first Saturday of each month of $100,000.  I had an interesting conversation with one gentlemen who was playing next to me.  He looks forward to the big win the first Saturday of every month and will sacrifice a portion of his social assistance check to do so. That's $35 of his monthly $585. 
I was immediately not buying into this ideology of happiness.  Ideology is very sly you know. It contains a measure of truth masked in untruth.  It takes us to a place we ache to go.  It paints a picture of security, of pleasure, of the things that are currently lacking from our everyday lives.  What it fails to offer is the reason why these things are lacking in our lives and conceals the reality that most of us will never attain what it promises. In the example of Bingo, that one ‘lucky’ person might be happy yelling bingo, but the majority will remain completely isolated from it.  I think the downtown core of Hamilton doesn’t need an illusion of luck, lurking over us on King St.  We don’t need fairy tales and dreams of the good life, we need something entirely tangible, that will carry us out of such toxic ideologies.
My mom told me the Bingo Hall I went to used to be called Kresges, which was a big department store of some kind with a bakery and other such things.  Maybe that’s a step in the right direction.  Maybe that’s only a more appealing ideology.  I’m more interested in what is being done to counter-act the products of mass culture.  If people enjoy a friendly game of Bingo once in a while then they are welcome to it, but what alternatives are being offered to the people who aren't happy playing bingo but have come to view it as a last hope, or as a cycle of addiction?  How is greater awareness being brought into the public sphere that gives us a true sense of moving forward?  What are we consenting to with the choices we are given?  Let’s create new choices for ourselves, new places of vitality instead of operating in these old culture hubs based on mass standardization.  The answers are here, hibernating within each one of us.
Curious about Bingo Culture? Click on this link: http://www.bingothedocumentary.com/clips/whatsabout.MOV

Christ's Cathedral, Maker's Market

http://www.makersmarket.ca/

As I opened the big wooden doors to the church that’s celebrating its 175th anniversary, I was surprised to find the flood of movements and activities bustling on the inside.  At first, my senses were in over drive with the beautiful architecture of the old church and the stained glass windows, not to mention the Carols that echoed off the high ceilings from the grand piano amidst the conversations had between vendors and shoppers.  If any skeptics are questioning this temple becoming a ‘den of thieves’ you can be certain this market is worthy of our praise, and our money. 
At Christ’s Church Cathedral, what’s being offered by the Maker’s Market comes with the community supporter’s best interests in mind.  I loved that I was offered a handful of fresh Kale Chips upon entry, which was next to the booth selling bean sprouting supplies and books on “How to Save Your Seeds.”  (A personal interest that I’m discovering more about.) 
The health conscious and the environmentally conscious have their place here, and so do the refurbishers. There seemed to be a trend of local artists and designers who have a knack for finding old treasures and making them new again.  There were two such items I couldn’t leave the market without;  one was a broken rosary made into a necklace with a vintage cameo, and the other was a tie pin made from an old computer “Delete” button.  If this refurbishing trend found at the Maker’s Market is an example of the trends happening within the city of Hamilton, I think we are being crafted in good hands.  I get excited when I think of Hamilton being reinvented as more of its people are developing an eye for the (old) treasures hidden within.  As the Maker’s Market reflects the re-creations happening in the downtown core, it also gives us a chance to support the local economy as we invest in our very own artists, artisans and farmers.   

contact Sherri to recreate your old jewelery pieces: tremblaysl@hotmail.com

One thing I was reminded of when visiting this cathedral, were the words Jesus used to described his followers - Living Temples.  Whether you consider yourself a believer or not, I think we could all believe in the hidden life within ourselves.  Each one of us carries a piece of life that no one else can house.  We each function as a temple would - with a set of practices and perceptions for living out our beliefs.  All that to say, be sure you check out what the Maker’s Market has to offer and while you’re at it, explore this concept; What’s in your temple?