Christmas is looming like a gaudy glittery bauble hanging off the bottom of a slightly bent wire branch of a crappy plastic tree that only gets one an outing from its storage spot under the stairs once a year.
Some families will get together. Some of us will eat ridiculous amounts of food, catch up on old times then try desperately not to fall into those old-time roles we once occupied. Christmas cheer can go either way back home – ending in happy dancing accompanied by Uncle Dougie banging the spoons on a plaid-clad knee, or the inevitable arguments about politics with Aunty Bev knocking her sherry over and storming out after trying to defend Mark Latham’s latest gaffe.
Our family have always loved a good bit of argy bargy. We don’t all share the same political views. And after a few too many prawn cocktails drenched in Thousand Island dressing chased down with a glass of eggnog (or two), things get messy.
Someone will inevitably lob a well-timed joke at me, prefaced with the sure firestarter, “This one’s for the cafe latte-drinking, Guardian Australia-reading, inner-city lefties,” before I return serve with a quip about the PM’s inappropriate exercise attire that chafes right to the bone of those relatives who have high standards of dress but also vote Liberal. It’s an intellectual game of tippity cricket after lunch.
I used to enjoy the challenge of a good political argument. I enjoyed flexing my debating chops. I’ve been a firm believer that a good old hearty disagreement is good for the soul. This Christmas though, I’ll be trying to bite my tongue the second any of the jovial festive discussions turn to code-red hot-button topics.
It’s going to be difficult. The thing is, fights are everywhere, every day, in work and in social media. There are flare-ups on Twitter hourly, even minute-by-minute. Turn on morning TV and there are teams of experts who battle it out over Renee Zellweger’s latest eyelift then switch, miraculously, to arguing whether climate change is real. A D-lister “slams” the actions of someone they hardly know to get traction in tomorrow’s news. A politician weighs in on something he knows absolutely nothing about but insists he hates anyway.
On Facebook someone drops an unwelcome truth bomb (usually their truth, with no concern for anyone else’s) on someone’s personal and quite innocent post. There are firm views, opinions and angry rants smouldering away in every stinking crevice of our media and social media landscape. We can’t hear for the shouting.
Increasingly, the argument feels like the desired result, rather than a process by which an agreement (or compromise) is reached. There are no solutions any more, just angry people yelling at other angry people, yelling at more angry folk, blasting other offended parties.
So I’d best see if I can at least personally take steps against this and resist the urge to argue with my family this Christmas. It’s a holiday, don’t forget. Opinions are exhausting. And as my Dad would say, they’re like bums, everyone’s got one. This Christmas I’m going to try to sit on mine for a bit. It’s a tough call, to be honest. Lucky I’ve got a big one.
