Thoughts on a train

On the struggles of carding

The giving of christmas cards, taken as a whole, is a very risky business. Even the process of choosing a card is fraught. If you decide to purchase a card from the menacingly specific selection that your local supermarket, stationary store, or pharmacy presents ("To my single daughter and her cat" or "Seasons greetings to our precious son and daughter-in-law, their three dogs, one frozen yet out-of-date turkey dinner, and resident lizard"), then you run the risk of being labeled uncaring and commercialised. If however, you decide to brave the perils of producing a homemade creation, phrases such as "cheapskate", "stingy" or (in a somewhat martyred tone) "You made it yourself? How... thoughtful" inevitably get bandied about.

Whichever option you pick, you now face the minefield that is writing a socially acceptable christmas message. For close friends and family, the challenge is easier. One simply expresses the love and respect this person has accrued over the years, and signs the card with the knowledge of a job well done. It is in the realm of the casual aquaintance, the work collegue, or the newly-minted friend that the danger arises. How much should you write? How much will everyone else write? How little can you get away with and still look like you care? You rack your brains for new and fresh ways of writing the same tired old liturgy; "Merry Christmas, I suppose. Here's to a great new year (though I don't really care all that much). Love to-",  here you pause, and struggle to dredge up some distant memory of a time when they mentioned a child/partner/sibling/pet, and eventually give up, inserting the catch-all phrase "- everyone back home". 

Then of course, comes the comparison and insecurity. Did "X" write more to "Z" than they did to you? Does "Z" mean more to "X" than you do? And there's always one person who manages to outshine absolutely everyone. Their homemade cards look professional enough to somehow be both meaningful and expensive. Their messages are personalised and touching. They are the undisputed winner of the christmas card competition (and it is a competition,  of course), so you always try to present your meagre offering BEFORE theirs in a futile attempt not to be completely eclipsed by the standard they set. But, you say to yourself with a resigned sigh, you have done your social duty, and provided everyone in your circle with a card that proves your goodness of heart. This is, naturally, the point where you suddenly remember an aunt or a nephew that you absentmindedly left cardless, and begin to panic over the misery and rejection that will undoubtedly ensue. "Merry" christmas indeed.