Festivus 2024: The airing of grievances

These are a few of my least favorite things.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year: Festivus, the holiday for the rest of us.

Festivus, traditionally celebrated on December 23, was invented by Seinfeld writer Dan O’Keefe and introduced to the world in 1997, during the series’ ninth season. As madeupical holidays go, it’s proved to be remarkably durable, perhaps because its traditions are so basic and universal: an unadorned aluminum pole, some Feats of Strength, and best of all The Airing of Grievances.

My grievances this year? So very, very many. Some are as huge as climate chaos, broligarchy, religious fundamentalism, and endless wars; others are as petty as a misplaced apostrophe.

I wrote about some of my language-y gripes earlier in the year. But my supply of gripes is limitless! Without fanfare, then, here are some of my very personal least favorite things:

Festivus card via Postable

1. Cybertrucks.

I spotted this menacemobile¹ in my neighborhood, parked at — what a surprise! — an expired meter. It’s a hulking design crime conceived of and sold by one of the worst people in the world. I’d like to see all Cybertrucks smashed to smithereens and their detritus turned into unadorned Festivus poles.

Photo: Nancy Friedman, Oakland, California.

2. “Severance.”

Several of you recommended that I watch this Apple TV+ series. I made it through two-thirds of the first episode and decided I’d rather stare at the ceiling than spend another second with this cast of miserable characters. For the record, I had a similar reaction to The Sopranos, Succession, Mad Men, and Girls. I accept that there is something wrong with me, and I’ve moved on.²

3. Any recipe whose instructions include “separate six eggs.” Or even “separate one egg.”

4. The wrong lyrics to “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”

I bring up this season-specific grievance because there are two versions to this 20th-century standard, and I grit my teeth whenever I hear the sappier one. In the 1944 original, written for Judy Garland to sing in Meet Me in St. Louis, the song ends with “Through the years we all will be together / If the fates allow / Until then we’ll have to muddle through somehow / So have yourself a merry little Christmas now.” I love that “muddle through” bit, which perfectly matches the mood not just of the movie but of all of life forever. Nevertheless, in 1957 Frank Sinatra decided the lyric was too morose or something, and he asked songwriter Hugh Martin to change it. Martin came up with “Hang a shining star upon the highest bough,” which scans and rhymes but wrecks the whole vibe. Today you’re more likely to hear the “shining star” version, and I hate it. (Listen to Ella Fitzgerald sing it the correct way.)

There’s more to the story, though, as I discovered when I was researching the song. The original original lyrics were even bleaker than the movie version: “Have yourself a merry little Christmas / It may be your last / Next year we may all be living in the past.” I love this, of course, but Judy Garland didn’t. As Maddy Shaw Roberts reported for Classic FM: “Garland objected to the lyrics, apparently, saying they were too depressing and if she were to sing them, ‘[Co-star Margaret O’Brien] will cry, and they’ll think I’m a monster.” Read the story.

5. “’Tis the season.”

I’ve written a lot about this particular annoyance. Is anyone listening? Apparently not. To summarize: Forget it, unless you’re inserting “damn” or something stronger before “season,” like Taylor Swift or

Fiona Gibson

. Read and heed veteran copyeditor John McIntyre: “Not in copy, not in headlines, not at all. Never, never, never, never, never. You cannot make this fresh. Do not attempt it.” And especially don’t attempt it if you don’t know where or in which direction the apostrophe goes, like Gibson’s cover.

Wrong-way punctuation.

November 25, 2024. Try harder, U.S. Masters Swimming.

December 15, 2024. Yelp got the diacritics right with bûche de Noël but misplaced the apostrophe in ’Tis, a word that should be on the do-not-publish list.

6. The “Acquired” event at the Chase Center.

I love the “Acquired” podcast. I fully expected the first-ever live “Acquired” event, held in San Francisco’s Chase Center on September 10, to live up to the podcast’s promise. Alas, it was so terrible I couldn’t stay for the duration. I left while a preening Mark Zuckerberg — newly swole and wearing a hideous T-shirt of his own design — was still spouting platitudes. The other speakers I endured (Spotify’s Daniel Ek; Nvidia’s Jensen Huang; and the lord of the manor, JPMorgan Chase CEO Jamie Dimon) were almost as unbearable. The obsequious podcaster-hosts lobbed softballs and never challenged the broligarchs. Expensive lesson learned: Just because a couple of smart guys are good at research doesn’t mean they’ll be good at interviewing.

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Read last year’s Festivus post!

Read all my other Festivus grumbles!

1. Aka wankpanzer.

2. Just so you know what kind of grouch I am, I was equally unimpressed by the hot awards contender Nickel Boys when I saw it at the Santa Fe Film Festival in October; the disjointed narrative and handheld camerawork made me slightly ill. I’m also apparently alone in my dislike for these fawned-over movies from past years: No Country for Old Men, The Favourite, and Phantom Thread.