A novel approach to Christmas cards for narcissists

Once upon a time there was a novel tradition in Christmas cards. People would buy a box of cards to send to family, friends, neighbors, co-workers and general acquaintances. The cards had a typical layout which began with an image on the front. The image may have been a Bible scene including a manger, or perhaps angels heralding the birth of our Savior, or the more materialistic ones had images of a snowy winter wonderland, Santa and elves.

Inside the cards were printed a verse from the Bible and usually a warm wish for the Holiday.

Each year, a few weeks before Christmas, we would sit down and write a hand written note inside, personally addressing love and warmth to the individuals to whom we were sending the card. Maybe the thoughts shared would be "I miss you", "I love you", or "I really enjoyed the time we spent together this year. Let's do that again soon".

In these words were contained general affection and sincere wishes. After this, we neatly printed the address of the recipient on the envelope, tucked the card inside, licked a stamp and placed it neatly upon the top right corner of the envelope. When done, the envelope was added to the stack of the many others we were sending. So the process went until all the cards were completed. There is nothing more sincere in a relationship over physical distance than a kind word, penned by hand and sent by mail.

Even a hand written thank you note conveys and confirms the gratitude which may have been previously expressed by mere words. It makes the statement "I was so moved by your kindness that I took time out of my day to sit down and write down my thoughts of gratitude and love for you".

That's all changed. The contemporary trend has become a rather shallow, effortless, insincere relic of what was once an act of kindness.

Now, it has become all too common to go online, pick a card design, add a photo and have a few dozen postcard styled "cards" to send away. Some use excel spreadsheets for preprinted labels and some even upload the address data to be printed upon the envelope. A tidy, time saving, inconvenience of obligation has replaced a tradition of kindness.

But wait! That's not even the worse part! The worst part is the photos that are sent. THEY'RE PICTURES OF THEMSELVES! LOOK AT ME! THIS IS ME ON VACATION, or THIS IS ME IN OUR FABULOUS HOME.

It's become no longer about others, but about SELF and these narcissistic photojournal "holiday" cards which I receive get a laugh and a prompt file13 result with an obligatory "what a narcissist" quiet groan as they're file13'd

As social media has created a culture of more and more narcissistic perspectives, our society decays.

My solution...::chuckle:: Gather photos of these narcissists who send such banal self-indulgences each year and return the favor. Send them a picture of themselves with a note of good wishes.

"I was thinking of you this Holiday and thought to send you a note with a picture of YOU to enjoy."

My guess is they might not even understand the humor, some will actually be thankful to see a picture of themselves (feeding their insatiable "self" need) and some might even get a wee bit upset.

For those who get upset, you've only revealed to them that their "card" wasn't about kindness to me, it was really all about yourself.

But, it will awaken many to the glaring fraud of holiday cards with "selfies" in a season about giving to and loving others.

Ahhh ... you are forgetting the longstanding (yet, thankfully, infrequent) former practice of including the typewritten Family Update!

At one time or another I think we have all received one of those one page fake humility braggart essays, with a family photo, inside of that Christmas card.

So here, for your nostalgic enjoyment, is a parody by Humorist and motivational speaker Brad Montgomery:

Holiday Letter Update!

Well, we made it through another year. It hasn’t been bad… certainly not wonderful. Here are some highlights:

We are married, still, but just barely. (Thank God for the guest room.) If it wasn’t for that #@!%^&# verdict, and Brad’s parole officer’s — BITCH! — “strong advice” that he not set off alone again, he’d be in Vegas. We see each other as often as necessary, but when you put your mind to it, it doesn’t have to be that much. Kim is at the dog track most days, and Brad spends days at a local bar with some of his friends from the “inside.” The kids do surprisingly well as ‘latchkey’ children.

Kim’s job is… well… a job. What the heck do you want? Paradise? She hates it still, but who wouldn’t? She’d quit, but then who’d pay for necessities like cable and the Budweiser? And laughing at the funny letter the nightshift helps with the marital strife.

Brad is “between jobs” again. (Kim says: I think he oughta call a spade a spade and call himself a lazy, good-for-nothin’ piece of …. But if he wants to go with “between opportunities” I guess it’s no skin off my back.)

We tried a couple of vacations, neither of which turned out any good. We tried to go to the Holidome and Jumbo Pool Slide a couple of hundred miles from here. But after about 18 hours of fighting we just called it off, came home and rented some movies.

Then off to see Kim’s family in $#%@$$-ing Kansas. If we didn’t already feel bad enough about ourselves, Kim’s folks pretty much finished the job. Without our knowledge, the kid’s spent the whole time there in a “adult novelty and Chicago-style-pizza” shop her loser brother runs, and now have a vocabulary you wouldn’t believe. If we weren’t so buzzed on her Dad’s homebrew we would have been really ticked off. And her mom gave us all food poisoning, which at least one of us thinks was done on purpose. At least we “got away.”

Kids are doing ok, I guess. They are still in school, which sorta makes us both proud. Hey! Not everybody is gonna be at the top of the class. Having kids, as you may know, is no picnic. All I can say is that if I have to take another funny-nosed-whining-never-say-thank-you kid to another friggin’ soccer game I’m gonna put a fork in my eye.

School is bull #$@&. Thanks to the principal’s new %#$%@ Health and Fitness campaign, our oldest came home harping on our quitting our Marlboro “habit.” Habit? Heck… those little fire sticks give us joy in a world dead set against it. We’ve paid taxes for years — or at least since we were caught — and I’d ask that ^%$#@$ principal to stop brainwashing our kids against us, thank you very much. Health and fitness in school? Next thing you know they’ll be teaching them socialism and history and crap.

Seriously, we are doing well. Surprisingly well. We’re happily married… except when Brad leaves the seat up. Everybody is healthy and content. Kim is working more on writing and less in the law. Brad is still a speaker/magician/comedian. The kids, aged 5, 8 and 10 are healthy and are still cute. We don’t hate soccer (that much).

And we all enjoy having friends like you.

Yours, Kim and Brad Montgomery

Brad Montgomery
Motivational Keynote Speaker, Humorist, Fan of Humor in Christmas Letters

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