It’s the holiday season. Christmas bows and lights adorn the street lamps of my town. Folks decorate their yards with icons of Frosty and Santa and nativity scenes. Menorah lights shine from the windows of some my neighbors. Yule logs and feasts are being prepared for the solstice. The smell of spiced fruit, wood smoke, and wassail floats through the air.

I love this time of year. People go out of their way to act nicer, be nicer. It’s a time for peace and goodwill. A time to band together to face the darkness of the coming winter. To celebrate the miracles of the past and prepare for the miracles of the future.

But over the past decade or so, there’s been this undercurrent of decidedly Grinch-like behavior and attitude that infects the holiday vibe. And it roots itself under my skin and irritates the living Dickens out of me.