Landscape with Roman Ruins by Herman Posthumus, 1536
There are over 200 theories for why Rome fell. Listen to this one from Edward Gibbon:
“The decline of Rome was the natural and inevitable effect of immoderate greatness. Prosperity ripened the principle of decay; the causes of destruction multiplied with the extent of conquest; and as soon as time or accident had removed the artificial supports, the stupendous fabric yielded to the pressure of its own weight.”
Personally, I think it must have started with the cupcake batter dispenser: “Don’t you just hate cleaning the drizzled cupcake batter off your cupcake pans before baking? Cut down the mess with this handy acrylic dispenser.” And here I was thinking a cupcake batter dispenser is called a spoon.
Or how about the one-touch tea maker complete with “tea basket that automatically lowers into the water” and backlit LCD screen, for the bargain price of $300? That’ll really come in handy, because lowering your tea into hot water really is one of the major inconveniences of life. What would we do without modern science?
There was no Christmas in 476 B.C. But if there had been, these babies would certainly have graced the shelves:
I came across this Hot Buttered Rum “mix” at the store yesterday: the ingredients are brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom, allspice, and cloves. Now, I know sometimes a recipe with too many steps can be a barrier in our busy lives. But have we arrived at the point where we aren’t capable of mixing a few spices together before adding butter, rum, and hot water? $3.99 for the dubious advantage of not having to start from scratch and possibly customize to our taste?
Thanksgiving is coming up soon, and all over the country, the highly entertaining family debates over the best way to cook a turkey are heating up. To stuff or not to stuff, brine, deep fry? 
Fear not, gentle readers, your worries are at an end. All you need is a “flavor injector”. That’s right, you can buy an EpiPen syringe thingie that shoots “flavor” into your turkey. I can’t wait to tell my Grammy what she’s been missing out on all these years. Our turkeys have never had “flavor” before. [My sister Elly is this generation's Turkey Whisperer: her birds can make a grown man cry. Watch this spot for Elly's turkey tips, no special equipment required.]
But my favorite sign of the times is probably the pre-baked giant gingerbread house kit. From the package: “Are you wanting the ultimate gingerbread experience? This candy house is very large, measuring 8-1/4” high x 9” wide x 8-1/2” deep, and will provide fun for the entire family. Everything you need is inside: pre-baked easy-to-assemble house pieces, 2 gingerbread boy cookies, easy-to-make icing mix, 7 colorful types of candy, decorating bags and tips, and complete instructions for assembling and decorating. Kit provides an afternoon of holiday fun!”
Now, I know most of us don’t have gumdrops just lying around. But baking gingerbread is not complicated. And if the point of building a gingerbread house is to create something epic with your kids, to spend some time with them and give them the space to use their imaginations, taking a pre-fab shortcut makes no sense. When do we make time for the lesson that creativity is about dreaming up something magical with what you have, and that sometimes the hard thing is worth doing because it’s hard? Christmas innovations like these are when we get the letter of the law right, but totally miss the spirit.
If the Slow Christmas message is about saying yes to spending more time, it’s also about saying no to spending more money. It’s not going to be easy. Between Thanksgiving and New Year’s, American household consumption goes up 25%. That’s a million extra tons of waste that goes straight to the landfill. Gibbon’s words are a cautionary tale: don’t let “the stupendous fabric yield to the pressure of its own weight.” We owe it to ourselves, our children, and a groaning planet to reclaim sanity this Christmas.
