Taco, the Christmas Dog

Thanksgiving break is such a tease. Family, “It’s a Wonderful Life,” and the annual decorations of Christmas trees provide a taste of the stress-free holiday environment awaiting those who make it through finals period. But the halcyon time mere weeks away can feel unreachable with the endless amount of papers, final projects, and exams one must first overcome. Unfortunately, in a fit of hypersensitive political correctness, Harvard seems to downplay the joys of the holiday season, creating an even more unwelcoming environment when compared to the familiar confines of the home. It is thus incumbent upon students to create their own happiness in this naturally dreary time.

Luckily, there are ways to make this happen. Netflix wonderfully provides subscribers with a seasonal slate of Christmas films, an offering that can be distracting during finals period but that can provide helpful pick-me-ups to those who need a break. Spotify and Pandora offer endless supplies of holiday music to accompany hard work, and those brave enough to pierce the “Harvard bubble” can take advantage of opportunities such as going ice skating and seeing a performance of the Nutcracker. Of course, time is a scarce resource for some in the early days of December, and even the busiest students deserve holiday cheer. Fortunately, such an outlet exists—that outlet is the Christmas dog.

Yesterday afternoon, my roommates and I were watching football when we realized our house’s (we live off-campus) distinct lack of Christmas spirit when compared with the cheerful abodes to which we returned for Thanksgiving. After a few minutes of discussion, we resolved to get a Christmas tree. Even my Jewish roommate agreed that—with Hanukkah in the rearview mirror—a tree was necessary to provide a festive atmosphere for our living environment. We proceeded to deliberate on whether our tree should be real or fake, settled on fake for obvious reasons, and then determined to make our way to Target after the Patriots game came to an—ultimately stunning—conclusion.

As soon as we hopped into the car, we decided we weren’t up to trekking all the way to the Target in Somerville—the place which a quick Google search suggested as our best option—so we headed to the Michaels in Porter Square to test our luck. While our immediate reaction was joyous as to the selection of Christmas trees, we discovered that they did not actually have in stock every shrub on display. We weighed compromising our firm belief that the four-and-a-half foot beauty would have worked perfectly in our living room, but ultimately could not overcome the altogether lackluster quality of the remaining options (which included a seven-foot monstrosity with scarcely more robustness or faux needles than a standard-grade coat hanger). We hung our heads in disappointment, certain we had failed our mission and let down our friends who had remained back at the house.

And then we found it—the perfect ornamentation for a living room shared by seven college-aged men. Nestled in a surprisingly prominent location between the array of Christmas trees and those tacky light-up reindeer found on suburban lawns was the solution to our holiday grumpiness. It was indeed the “Christmas dog,” a decoration so perfect for our needs that it prompted my roommate to gleefully express, like a four-year-old amazed with the largesse of Santa Claus, “It’s a Christmas miracle.” Knowing that our friends would ultimately support the game-time decision, we purchased the object—of which Michaels was not even close to being sold out—and returned home.

The reactions of the other inhabitants of our Cantabrigian abode conveyed reactions similar to those of my purchasing partner. In a time of stress, despair, and occasionally desperation, the Christmas dog—which we decided to name Taco for obvious reasons—reminded us of the Christmas spirit and the joy the holiday season has to offer in the face of typical Harvardian obstacles. While our mission took admittedly crucial time out of our work schedule, I know that the utility gained far exceeded that possible in any given 45 minutes of studying. Additionally, we secured the added benefit of having Taco in our lives to cheer us up whenever we enter the living room throughout the rest of the semester (and, who knows, possibly semesters to come). While I can honestly say that my family would never think to buy something like the Christmas dog (there was a reason there were so many of them in stock), adding a Christmas decoration to the living situation reminded us of the holiday atmosphere by which we had been so comforted during the Thanksgiving break.

So, I implore you, spice up your life and take advantage of the holiday options in Michaels, Target, and other such stores. It’s the holiday season and the proximity of your exams should not force you to forget that. Maybe you too can rejoice in the festiveness of the Christmas dog, or maybe you’ll set out to buy one only to discover an alternative “Christmas miracle.” You never know until you take those 45 minutes and explore the world around you, a worthwhile endeavor guaranteed to improve the quality of living these next few weeks.

John F. M. Kocsis ’15, a Crimson editorial writer, is a government concentrator in Eliot House. Follow him on Twitter @jfmkocsis.