Wonderful Christmastime

Paul McCartney is watching me as I type this. His big puppy dog eyes are fixated on me all day. I am totally okay with that, though to be honest it’s distracting. Paul has me in the Christmas spirit.

I can’t say Paul is my favourite Beatle, because picking a favourite Beatle is like picking a favourite Beatle song. You can’t. You don’t. You shouldn’t even try. It’s unconscionable. 

What I can say is that his holiday song Wonderful Christmastime has a message that rings true for me this Christmas. It hits all the feels. Just enjoy the simple things, the moments, the fun.

That’s why Paul was my inspiration for the annual Christmas Cubicle Holiday Décor competition at work, which this year challenged us to decorate with the theme of our favourite Christmas song. 

We were to decorate our individual workspaces to that theme and have our colleagues guess the song. 

Picking a favourite holiday song is difficult. It’s not as hard as picking out a favourite Beatle, mind you, but how do you pick Bing over Nat? Or Frosty over Rudolph? Or Elvis over Mariah? You can’t. You don’t. You shouldn’t even try. It’s inconceivable. 

I was going to do Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer, but my mother refused to lie on the floor all day with reindeer hoof prints on her clothes. She’s usually willing to participate in my ideas, but drew a hard line there this time. 

I thought about borrowing a hippopotamus, because I want a Hippopotamus for Christmas is a cute song, but there’s all these rules about live animals in the workplace. Also, where do you borrow a hippo? Is that a thing?

I knew my real favourite holiday song wouldn’t fly, because I’m pretty sure chestnuts roasting on an open fire in my cubicle would be problematic. People don’t trust me near open flames. 

Then Paul came singing over the airwaves and I knew it had to be him.  I couldn’t go wrong with a chorus that says “Simply having a wonderful Christmastime.”

There is no pressure to pull out symbolism or metaphors in my decor. The only clue I needed to offer was Paul himself. 

It just so happens, last year, Santa brought me a Life Magazine on the Beatles. I read that thing cover to cover. Now I had a plan.

Scissors in hand I got to work. It wasn’t easy to cut out all the images of Paul, not only because tearing up that magazine was sad, but also, because scissors are like the aforementioned open flame situation and thus, not safe for me (or my bangs that one time). 

I suck at arts and crafts, but I was in this to win this. By the time I was done, images of Paul were taped to my cubicle wall, filing cabinet, paper tray and my computer screen. I stuck Paul’s face on a nutcracker, taped one on my Toronto Rock bobblehead figure. 

Paul’s face replaced my beloved Carpenter’s in that one photo I have of us together. Paul galore. Let it be. 

I didn’t win the Christmas Cubicle Holiday Decor Competition, but I stumped a few colleagues and had fun doing it. 

That’s the point: simply having a wonderful Christmas time. 

Me, you and Paul.

WriteOut of Her Mind