I’m not a big holiday person. But I like office parties because there’s always lots of food and booze and you can’t beat that. But since COVID and I once found a co-worker doing a George Castanza and re-dipping his chips in the guacamole, all that’s kaput, as far as I’m concerned. So if I want the extra food and booze and human company, it seems I now have to suffer through my mother’s dry turkey and hours listening to my uncle tell the same tired jokes and reminding everyone about the time he caught me as a kid masturbating in the woods. Somehow I don’t see the justice in this.

I’d give the holidays and the year a big fat zero star if I could.

Jeremiah B, Fargo, ND

I love Christmas. We don’t have much money, but somehow my husband always manages to give me the best gifts — ever. (Not). Last year, it was a fluffy white rabbit with the biggest bow strung around her neck. My son, who’s four, named her Flopsy and immediately became enamored by this somewhat adorable creature taking over my house, pooping everywhere. You would have thought my husband would have had the smarts to at least get a rabbit who was litter trained. Oh, no! The thing is, I wouldn’t have really cared. The tiny pellet balls didn’t smell. I found them easily enough — as did my son. A curious little tyke who just loves his fruits and thought they were blueberries. While Flopsy didn’t last long in our house, the giggles coming from my boy remained something priceless.

So I give Christmas five stars. I give my need-to-do-better-gift-buying husband one.

Kaitlyn, Boston, MA

Growing up Jewish, I always felt cheated. How can you compare a bunch of guys in loincloths hunkering down in a temple with an oil lamp against a jolly larger-than-life bearded old man armed with a sled full of presents and all those cute reindeer? Yeah, we had our stories, our songs, the dreidel game, the chocolate gelt, the latkes, and the festivities. And yet, eh. I still wanted that tree. The idea of decorating it with all those beautiful ornaments I knew I could get 50% off at Target was going to make my life better, fuller, and richer. That was the thinking. My first year on my own, right after Thanksgiving, I got that tree. And a real one! To say it was magnificent would be an understatement. The twinkling lights, the rainbow of satin balls, the ribbons threading through the branches, and the smell of pine permeating every nook and cranny of the small apartment. I remember standing there for a long time just admiring it before it hit me. This was just a tree. Pretty, yes, but it held no significance, nothing religious or spiritual that I connected to. I might not have fully realized at that precise moment how important my role at holiday time would become, but when my children and grandchild were born, the message came through loud and clear. For eight nights I brought to life the story of the Maccabees. I slaved over my grandmother’s recipe for latkes. I lit the Chanukah candles. And after singing “Oh Chanukah, Oh Chanukah” to a forgiving audience, I said a silent prayer hoping my efforts weren’t in vain,  I somehow kept my tribe alive, and I instilled that requisite spark that would one day keep the light burning.

So, here’s to all holidays. I give them a whopping five stars.

Olivia, San Bruno, CA