You know how the song goes:
“City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style…”
This song is a lie! Utter bullshit!! Propaganda!!! Everyone in the city this time of year knows the truthful lyrics should be:
“City sidewalks, INSANE CRAZY CROWDED CLAUSTROPHOBIC NIGHTMARE sidewalks”
In the New York City frigid air, there certainly is a feeling of Christmas. It’s a magical time of year in the concrete jungle and everyone wants to get in on the festive cheer. Go anywhere near 5th Avenue let alone Rockefeller Center this weekend and crowds are likely to be so thick you’ll feel like you’re part of the mosh pit at a Blink 182 concert.
Expect to photobomb at least a dozen people’s Christmas photos.
But it’s worth feeling like sheep being herded by Babe the gallant pig for this Christmas spectacular. The ultimate New York Christmas cliché:
The Rockefeller Christmas Tree!
30 Rock-in’ around the Christmas tree…
That’s the cliché. Here’s the reality:
I did something kind of stupid.
I went to see the Rockefeller Christmas Tree all by myself. (Cue Music)
I’m a New Yorker, just walking home from work, and I decided to take a detour to see the tree. Because it’s pretty! Because it’s Christmas! Because who else get’s to walk one extra block and see a national treasure!?
It was lonely, in that New York City magical way. Surrounded by a sea of people but feeling paradoxically isolated.
I wasn’t with my family, I wasn’t with a significant other, I was all alone with nary a photographer.
Hey, this is why selfies are a thing.
No one was appreciating my hat game. But I was appreciating that of those around me. And missing my girl friends. No surprise that people watching at the Rockefeller Christmas tree is prime.
I’ve felt more alone this holiday season then I ever have before. Maybe it took me turning 30 to finally understand the cliché that being single during this season is hard. Maybe it’s the parade of mediocre dates with nary an exciting prospect since the idea of President Trump was still a laughable farce. Maybe it’s everyone figuring out their lives while I try to avoid small talk at parties so I don’t have to tell people I’m more clueless than I was at 22.
Or maybe I just shouldn’t go to the Rockefeller Christmas Tree by myself.
The problem is, I don’t want someone to take a picture in front of the Rockefeller Christmas tree with and then show off to all my social media accounts. I want someone to hold my mittened hand as we walk past the tree, making fun of Santa hats and pondering the thoughts of the tree security guards. That’s proving a lot harder to find. I can find someone to sip hot cocoa with, but I want someone who will scorch my nasal cavities by sending it shooting out my nose. And then think it’s cool when I blog about it.
All I Want For Christmas Is: someone who’ll sing the entire 30 Rock theme song with me as we look up at 30 Rockefeller Center.
Is that too much to ask for, Santa?