The name change struck me as way too P.C. as well as an offense to those who love language.
I stood in a media scrum Tuesday - news of the name change had made the Drudge Report - as city Managing Director Richard Negrin explained how he'd received complaints from city workers and residents about the market, how unwelcoming it was to those who don't do Christmas.
He told of how a little girl and her father had been walking by the market the other day, and the girl, who was Jewish, had asked, "Don't we get a village?"
Yes, dear, I thought. We call it New York.
So I was a little hostile. I was completely unbothered by a celebration of Christmas at City Hall, and was fully prepared on Thursday night, when the mayor was to light the "Holiday Trees," as they're called in a media release, to see more waffling in action.
Yes, it's the Christmas season. Get over it. I have.
This is a lovely time of year. People are in good moods. Prices have fallen. Most of us get a little time off to overeat and drink and behave badly at office parties, if people can afford office parties any more. Or offices.
'Tis the season when we non-Christians tend to feel a little out of step. But before you cue up Kyle from South Park singing that "it's hard to be a Jew on Christmas," there's nothing wrong with feeling removed.
It doesn't erode my sense of self.
It enhances my sense of self.
There's no offense when someone reflexively asks whether I'm ready for Christmas. I tell the truth - ah, not yet - and move on, usually to eye electronics ads and scout bad movies and good Mandarin beef, my people's tradition.
I get the day off, now that I've got some seniority, and make Christmas playlists for friends' parties while praying for snow.
