Fruitcake
We are what we eat
I like fruitcake. It’s sweet, it’s lumpy, it engages my teeth. And what other use is there for candied rutabaga? By all accounts, fruitcake is universally reviled, but fruitcake is more than an epicurean scapegoat; it’s a status symbol.
Like a Subaru, only smaller and chewier.
How is fruitcake a status symbol? We make fun of fruitcake. Ridicule it. We’d never be caught dead eating it, at least in public. But if so, why is it stacked like bricks down at the local supermarket? Someone is buying it. Does she smuggle it home at the bottom of her grocery bag along with her secret copy of InTouch magazine?
Let’s face it: educated, sophisticated, complicated people are not expected to eat fruitcake. It’s cheap. It’s tacky. It’s common.
Which is partly why I like it.
In Christmases past, when cruising the store aisles, I could always spot the cheapest ornaments—their dear little angel mouths applied like lipstick after too many hot toddies. The most beautiful ornaments were reserved for those with the most disposable income (like models and rock stars). That was OK, though; I felt secure, knowing my place within my socio-economic class. I knew how much (or little) tackiness I could afford (or endure).
But now I’m confused. These days, even the cheap stuff is beautiful. And if I can afford the pretty stuff, something’s amiss—if I want pretty, I should be making it myself.
Don’t get me wrong—I love confounding expectations, especially socio-economic ones. Nothing makes me happier than finding a designer label at the New To You. I feel like I’m beating the system, even as I participate in it. (Hey, look at me in my Armani jacket! Wanna ride in my Chevy mini-van?) But when I choose to take an end-run at the system, I want it to be on my own terms. Allowing me to afford the pretty stuff is confounding the rules!
If this rule-bending extends to other consumables, how are we supposed to know where we stand in relation to one another?
Fortunately, we still have many ways to advertise our socio-economic rank. Do we pull our tree out of the woods or out of a box? Drive a Subaru, a Lexus, a truck or a bike? Do we cruise Canadian Tire for our tree ornaments, order Tiffany pretties online, or make cranberry strings with our kids? Do we opt to pop edamame or scarf down Big Macs (or pick at fruitcake)? And, finally, do we spend Boxing Day at WalMart or Waikiki?
It’s not just our consumption that makes us conspicuous. It can be how musical or artistic we are. Whether we listen to CBC or private radio or podcasts, or whether we enjoy Survivor or 24, live theatre or video games. Whether we take our snow by cross country ski or downhill, by snowshoe or snowmobile.
When giving gifts this holiday season, you must consider not only personal taste (which is largely learned anyway), but also what type of social statement your gift will make on behalf of your giftee. Imagine Aunt Olivia’s private horror at receiving a punker stomp-pad for her snowboard, or your 12-year-old nephew’s joy at opening a box of jacquard dishtowels.
Although this holiday presents itself with all the trimmings, it isn’t really “Christmas.” For many, the only religious experience found in this holiday is the exaltation involved in giving (or receiving) the perfect present. It should really be called “Giftmas,” but since it isn’t, Christmas it is.
Christmas displays in stores are up well before Halloween, which is appropriate since Halloween is just a warm-up act for The Big Day.
This past Halloween, while steering our trick-or-treaters around a neighbourhood subdivision, I ran into a friend whose little girl had just cottoned to the fact that people were giving away candy—all you had to do was ask! As she ran round the cul-de-sac, I joked to her Mom that it would be a good thing if her trait for collecting goodies evolved into collecting money. She looked at me curiously and asked, “Is that a good thing?”
I’ve been asking myself ever since.
Is acquisition a bad thing? Is it wrong to want a roof over our head and a car in the driveway? Is it wrong to want post-secondary education for our kids? Is it wrong to want fruitcake so much you buy six at a go and squirrel them away in the freezer? At what point does acquisition become obscene?
Compared to most people on this rock, our way of life is rich. Yet, especially at Christmas, we ask Santa for bigger, better, prettier, noisier and—what the heck—just make it more, more, more.
Hopefully, when we celebrate Christmas, we celebrate more than mere acquisition. Regardless of whether we observe the Christian holiday, we celebrate this time of year no matter what it’s labeled. We celebrate the winter solstice, when the sun turns its back on darkness and the daylight starts to creep back into our lives. We toast our friends, our co-workers, and especially our families. We pull out the good crackers, the prettiest napkins, and the best scotch/champagne/orange juice.
We even celebrate the annual fruitcake harvest! (Well, okay—that’s just me.)
By: Lloyd
25 January 2007