Due to my lack of traditional religious tendencies, due to my lack of consumerism, due to my lack of interest in Christmas in general, it was odd to find myself looking for gifts in a Best Buy this weekend. It's been about a year since I've been in a home entertainment store, and I can honestly say I don't feel like I've missed out on anything. The bright lights, the warehouse atmosphere, the peppy commentary after each Christmas song, the cattle lines, and the amount of money that must be spent on any and every purchase. It's ironic that stuff is the real reason for the season.

When I was a kid, I couldn't get enough stuff at Christmas. My brothers and I dutifully typed out our wish list, listing all the music, books, movies and junk we thought would make our dreams come true. I would usually get one item from my massive list, and ultimately, I ended up with a hearty pile of stuff I would rarely use. After hauling the Christmas booty to my room, I would select places to put everything I had received. Clothes in the closet, music and books swallowed up by the collective, and miscellaneous crap nestled in the corner until February when I could "accidentally" lose them.

None of the Christmas spirit made me closer to God or Jesus or any Biblical character. I went to Protestant churches throughout my youth, watched them light the advent candles, sang "Joy To The World" badly, ate all the sweets and chocolates in the edible calendars, listened to the stories of Joseph and Mary, the immaculate conception, no room at the inn, babe in swaddling clothes, We Three Kings of Orient Are, and all things Christian over and over and over. In the back of my mind, I always knew the hoopla for Jesus' birth was a little silly since he was going to die in less than four months for all our sins.

None of the Christmas spirit made me closer to Santa Claus. I think I made it to about seven years old before I realized those milk and cookies didn't actually go to Old Saint Nick. I did all things Christmas. I hung Christmas lights, trimmed the tree, went caroling (singing badly), watched The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Frosty the Snowman, Merry Christmas Charlie Brown, and did all things red and green over and over and over. One infamous year when I was ten, my brothers and I were being brats in the back seat of the car while the family drove around looking at Christmas lights. We wanted to go home and watch a special holiday presentation of the Muppet Movie. My Mom, disgusted with our lack of respect, called off Christmas. No presents, no celebration, nothing. Could she do that? Yes, she could, and she did. After that, I never got up early on Christmas and used the holiday as an opportunity to sleep in as long as possible. I have personally been accused of ruining a handful of Christmases.

So as I prepare for my twenty-ninth Christmas in a row, the tired holiday songs of Best Buy are in my ear. The Christians plead with us to remember the reason for the season, but the only thing that I still feel obligated to do is buy people stuff. The reason I feel obligated is because it is the American Way, not Jesus' or Santa Claus' Way. Businesses ask employees to buy random $10­$20 gifts for their anonymous work mates. Family members jet across the country attempting to achieve another quality Christmas. Chris Jungle wanders around Best Buy, selecting gifts that he hopes won't go into the trash corner on December 26.

Despite my grinchy ways (I do own the classic Dr. Seuss tale), I have actually incorporated much of the Christmas Spirit into my life all year round. I help out my fellow man in small but tangible ways. Beggars get change, friends get favors, associates get assistance. I am a courteous citizen, drive defensively, and am polite to strangers. I subscribe to Jesus' Golden Rule--do unto others as you would have done to you. Overall, I'm a pretty good man, as far as men go. I just don't believe in Christmas anymore.

If you're wondering what I'll be doing Christmas Eve and Day, there is a bit of poetic justice to my humbug. I am contracted to drive 12-hour shifts in a cab from 5 a.m. to 5 p.m. on both days. Happy Holiday Season, everyone. Buy some good stuff for folks you know, and if you bump into Jesus or Santa Claus this month, tell them no hard feelings for me, will you?

Chris Jungle will not accept blame for ruining anyone's Christmas.