Of all the items imagined, manufactured, and advertised, there is one that stands alone as the most deplorable. Its two-syllable name makes me ill. Its embodiment of lethargy and presentation by actors as “the single most beneficial product known to mankind” causes me to recoil when I see it on the television screen.
Of course, the product to which I’m referring is the Snuggie.
Since when is a blanket an inconvenience? Are a hoodie and thick pair of socks now unreasonable measures for keeping cold at bay? I must be a bit old fashioned in my thinking because the “new lively and exciting patterns” in which the Snuggie is available prove its success. The original puke green is apparently the only thing hampering it from being fashionable.
Aside from the actors raising the roof around a campfire, adorned in their suburban camouflage, the thing that bothers me most is the obvious market for something so unnecessary. I am not a minimalist by any means, and there are tons of other products which are equally unnecessary, but the Snuggie advertisements are unavoidable because they invade my home.
It’s far easier to pretend that I’m not excessive in my expenses, and that I’m a good steward of my life if I don’t have to be confronted with the less-obvious Snuggies of my life. The problem is that my unnecessary comforts have more to do with the big picture than particular items.
I would like to pretend that I’m approaching the aspects of my life in the least Snuggie-like way. Like Chuck Norris, roundhouse kicking anything that gets in the way. Confrontation, problem solving, career, relationships, adventure? Pull the Walker, Texas Ranger lever and a solution automatically appears. However, my approach looks more like sitting on the couch in my abomination robe.
Comfort appeals to me. Seventy degrees is ideal, healthy investments sound good, and a job that provides security and upward mobility is what I aim for. Oh yeah, I forgot about looking for a woman who doesn’t demand too much, isn’t too complicated, and looks better than average. My life doesn’t have Snuggies in it. Rather, it is one giant fleece infection – even if I’ve got a skull and crossbones printed on the back.
That “the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation” is true is because it’s so much easier than one of excitement and adventure. Excitement requires an element of risk. Risk comes from the unknown; certain dangerous possibilities exist when certain actions are taken. But the possibilities create the adventure.
God is not exciting when He’s turned into a rulebook. Following Christ is boring when it’s turned into mundane and rote behavior. Jesus’ life was one of completely following the will of God. He was dangerous to accepted standards, He was straightforward in his criticism of religious leaders, and He did these things in a way that the “nice” people found insulting. They hated Him and they murdered Him for it – legally. So what is it exactly that we mean when we ask God to make us more like Jesus?
I guess it gets down to me admitting that I want God to keep me comfortable above most other things.
Move somewhere new? I’d better do the research first, God.
Give away more than I have budgeted? Lord, I’ll need to run the numbers first.
Switch careers when I’m doing well where I am? God, have I shown you my five-year plan?
Say it with me, “My life is a Snuggie.”
If you enjoy Snuggies, you should get your mind right first, then make that statement. If acceptance is the first step to recovery, I am going to have to be more honest about my life than I want to be. I can’t look at what I’ve written down as life goals and say that’s what I’m after. I have to look at the evidence of my life, and then look at what those things project into the future.
Preparation is not bad, look before you leap bears some consideration, and waiting when God tells us to wait should always be advised. However, I can’t be the only one who is more concerned with comfort while I do Christian-y things than seeking where God is leading despite the risk involved.
My question has always been, “If knowing Jesus is our only salvation, and following Him is the best way, then why do we all look so bored?”
Maybe it’s because instead of taking up our crosses we’ve put on Snuggies.
About Jake Harvey: For the past four years, Jake has held a secret security job protecting citizens of Fort Worth. Really, it’s just him riding around in his pickup truck with a shotgun. While driving around, his music choices go from Waylon Jennings to Clutch to TV on the Radio. When he stops at red lights, he is often reminded of his severe dislike of the Chicago Cubs and whining. When Jake’s patrol stops at the local 7-11 to scout out any troublemakers or hooligans, he always has to get a pack of gum and a strong cup of coffee. Jake also spends time studying economic theory, buying books and guns, and resisting the urge to breakdance when he sees cardboard on the ground. You can follow him @jakeharvey6.
*Photo credit: Robert Banh