Festivus lets the rest of us air our gripes, grievances
Have you ever felt like a sponge, soaking up comments and complaints from friends, and wondering how to wring out the obstacles that seem to get in the way of solutions?
Or perhaps you've looked at the water mark on a glass -- what's usually half full begins to look half empty and you don't know how to shake it?
Late Friday afternoon, my disposition began to tank in this city of grand illumination, deeply disheartened by press releases concerning our council-manager form of government, news that became front page headlines.
Then, serendipitously, I was distracted by an e-mail invitation to the First Annual Naperville Festivus Celebration at Quigley's Irish Pub that evening.
Though I didn't know organizers Cathy Orsi and Troy Atwood or anything about Festivus, they'd invited friends, and friends of friends, to join them to "openly and honestly" air their grievances and then move on to have a rousing good time.
"We expect the majority of celebrants will arrive by 9 p.m.," Orsi wrote. "Seinfeld made the holiday somewhat famous in the '90s, but it does have historical reference."
Upon investigation, I learned Festivus is a ritual of simplicity tagged the "the holiday for the rest of us." The antithesis of elaborate, laborious celebrations dates back to 1966, when Reader's Digest writer Dan O'Keefe invented the all-inclusive non-holiday.
Ready to vent, I arrived at the suggested time to find Quigley's cottage room overflowing with good-natured revelers, mostly 30- and 40-somethings, distinguished throughout the pub by Mardi Gras beads.
Erica Engle, a young woman in her mid-20s, recognized me as "Tep and Jeff's mom."
Greeter Andy Atwood offered me a Guinness. He also introduced me to Orsi, who carried a wimpy aluminum pole to set in a tree stand, which she explained was the only decoration allowed. She also showed me a tablet with a long list of grievances.
"We really liked the idea of drawing people together from different walks of life to simulate the small-town atmosphere of old Naperville," said Orsi, a 12-year resident who works part time at the Naperville Tennis Club where she'd met many of the guests. "Simplicity and not planning are central to Festivus. People were just supposed to show up."
She explained that the airing of grievances could lead to "feats of strength -- usually limited to arm and thumb wrestling."
Curious about the grievances of this younger set of Naperville residents, I found a seat at a table where I began reading and copying down dozens of their complaints.
"People who don't RSVP to Festivus" was first on the list that included "out of control" teacher raises, school taxes and the "Naperville Park District soccer signups online."
People groaned about Notre Dame fans, blowhards, smokers, gas prices, dialing 1-630, cell phone abuse and "complainers."
Other gripes included "mean," "snotty," "ungrateful," "stupid" and "double-dipping" people, as well as "people who always order the most expensive thing on the menu when they know you're dividing up the bill."
Separate complaints cited "People who keep their clothes on" and "People who don't dress when they take out the garbage."
Orsi asked me not to include a number of timely grievances on the list.
And some grumbling didn't make it to the tablet.
"The pole was ridiculously small," said Ginger Boyce. "But someone is on the task of getting a good one for next year. Cathy is hoping Festivus travels through town and gets as big as Ribfest."
"We had fun," Boyce continued with a beef. "I'll be happy when the no-smoking ban goes into effect (January 1, 2008), though."
During a follow-up call Saturday, Orsi added, "We selected Quigley's because it's locally owned and we want to support independent business owners. The service at Quigley's was great. And Heaven on Seven helped, too -- Heaven on Seven sold us 200 strands of beads at their wholesale cost of $10!"
Orsi also said she's already planning next year's no-frills event for the second Saturday after Thanksgiving.
And what's one of my grievances? Residents who haven't been watching city council meetings.