A Very Alpha Christmas

Alpha SantaAh, Christmas! There are many things I like about it. Well, two: giving presents and cooking. Really: if you are past the age of 30, Christmas really ought to be about giving. And for women, it mostly is. For men, well. You know men.

My Christmas

I just want to explain what my Christmases are like. I always go to my sister’s house. And the two of us cook and otherwise wait on all the men who sit on the couch and watch sports and other “reality” shows.

(Yes, I do know that I’m a man. But socially, I’m not. It’s strange that supposed alpha men who supposedly love women so much don’t want to spend time around them. But maybe it is just that they want them for sex and otherwise, they prefer to be around each other because they are culturally stunted and the source of 90 percent of all the pain in the world.)


But in our coming and going, it might be nice to see, I don’t know, some Christmas shows. Maybe hear some Christmas music? I’m not that fond of either. But it is certainly better than yet another football game — yet another episode of Pawn Stars (AKA: the show where bottom feeders make money off desperate people).

The truth is, I don’t much care. What does matter is that there is no compromise. It is just assumed by the men that whatever they want to watch is what will be watched. And it is just assumed that they will be waited on.


Truly, I’m thinking that next year, my sister and I will get a hotel room. We’ll allow the the kids to come by and let the “alpha” males conquer Christmas. If pizza parlors are open on Christmas, they should have no problem. And it will give them more man time.

Anyway, Merry Christmas! Remember the reason for the season: learning extreme tolerance.


Later, when everything calmed down, I went into the back bedroom and watched Family Feud with my great-nephew, Hector. He apparently enjoys it and I don’t mind watching it. Steve Harvey is genuinely funny and manages to mock the contestants in a way that doesn’t embarrass me. (I suffer greatly from pena ajena.)

Hector quickly fell asleep and I continued to read and watch the show. It was very peaceful — the way Christmas should be. In addition to this very pleasant time, I got to observe something very disturbing on Family Feud.

Watermelon Man

The question was, “Name something the same size as Steve Harvey’s head.” Bear in mind that Harvey is an African American. And the white contestant buzzed-in and answered, “Watermelon.”

I’m not saying that the contestant was actively racist. But such things are the result of living in a racist society. This is the main reason that I say everyone is racist. It is the same reason that everyone knew Reagan’s “welfare queen” was black (even though she wasn’t).[1] But the contestant’s answer wasn’t far from saying, “Friday chicken!”

Steve Harvey, of course, ignored the racial aspect of it and made a big deal out of the fact that his head — No one’s head! — is as big as a watermelon. It was very funny.

Indication of Broader Racism

But the amazing thing is “watermelon” was the #2 answer with one-quarter of respondents saying it. I had originally thought that the contestant was idiosyncratic. But no. People really do associate African Americans with watermelons.

That’s not a problem, of course. But it is indicative of the subconscious racism that people hold. And it does matter when employers choose whites with felony convictions over blacks with no criminal background.

Steve Harvey: Soother of White Fragility

As a result of this, I find it outrageous that the producers of Family Feud allowed that question through. It obviously required that Harvey do a 21st century minstrel act. The fact that he is a pro that handles casual racism in a way that doesn’t upset whites doesn’t really help matters.

So my first reaction was shock and horror. But Steve Harvey’s handling of it amused and calmed me (as it was meant to). But more reflection makes it even worse.

It was still better than dealing with my alpha family members. And Hector is very sweet — especially when he’s asleep!

[1] Giving Linda Taylor the moniker “welfare queen” (which Reagan popularized but didn’t invent) was not right. And it was even worse for Reagan to use her as an excuse to cut welfare. Taylor was simply a criminal. Using her as an example of a welfare recipient is like using a human trafficker who launders money through a credit union as an example of a bank customer.

4 thoughts on “A Very Alpha Christmas

  1. Barf! This was every family holiday gathering when I was little, and that’s 40 DANG YEARS AGO.

    While it is righteous and holy to avoid crowding a kitchen while the people who know what they’re doing need working space, it’s simply sinful to not help with cleanup. Allow me to quote from the Bible:

    “And lo, the disciples didst claim unto Jesus that they kneweth a great loaves & fishes recipe, and Jesus rebuked them, saying “‘get thee behind me! You’re in the damn way, me and Magdalene got this covered.’”

    “Then the disciples didst grumble, and forthwith paid heed unto an NBA game, ignoring the prophets of old who spaketh of how these games really don’t matter until the playoffs in April.”

    “And all didst feast upon the Vast Supper. And Jesus took the water that hadst been transformed into wine via grapes and yeast, and the disciples asked, ‘“Lord, is there no wine for me?’”

    “And Jesus replied, “‘feel free to rinse off some dishes first. For verily I say unto thee, we are not your waiters. Only when thou has cleansed that which has Cool Whip upon it may thou tasteth the fruit of the vine.’”

    “To which Magdalene added, ‘“not you, Peter. You’ve already had a six-pack. Help the kids bag up their toys.’”

    “And Jesus said, “‘let those with ears to hear learneth from this day forward, and make sure there’s room at the Inn of Hampton to avoid relatives behaving like livestock in a manger.’”

    • That’s hilarious! I think I’d like to publish that for next year’s Christmas (under your name). If that’s okay, I can go ahead and schedule it now.

      I don’t know if this made it into the article, but in the end, my niece and nephew did the clean-up. That was fantastic. We’ve started using paper plates, but the truth is that they don’t really help. The plates take almost no effort to clean. All the hard things remain.

      I felt kind of bad about this post after I wrote it. I thought, “With all the pain and suffering in the world, this is a pathetic meta-grumble.” But then I thought, “If I can’t whine on my own blog, where can I?” So I left it.

      • Well, if you’re still blogging in a year, and I’m not on the run from loan sharks, maybe the post can be looked at. The response doesn’t really work without the original post, though…

        That’s great your kinkids helped out! Even if it was only a token effort and all the serious scrubbing came later by you grownups. When a parent asks an older sibling to “hold the baby,” they’re not saying “hold the baby, I dunno how to hold a damn baby,” they’re teaching the older kid how to value fragility and responsibility. Ideally at the speed that older kid is ready to absorb. (If parents were all terrible at judging this, humanity really wouldn’t have lasted very long.)

        It’s a process. You don’t start a music student with Bach, and you don’t start a kid to love cooking by scrubbing heat-baked crud off a kitchen thing. That’s the eventual reality, sure, but to get them to enjoy how it’s worth that effort, you gotta emphasize the fun of making stuff and helping out, first.

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