I'm a bit of a curmudgeon. I don't like Valentine's Day and New
Hear now the words of Thomas Middleditch, spoken half in jest yet carrying a deeper truth: “I’m a bit of a curmudgeon. I don’t like Valentine’s Day and New Year’s and Halloween.” At first, these words seem the grumble of one weary of festivity, but within them is hidden a reflection on the hollowness of certain rituals when stripped of meaning. The curmudgeon, though scorned for his complaints, often reminds the world that not all celebrations bring true joy. Some are empty shells, polished by commerce, drained of the spirit they once carried. Middleditch’s confession is not merely dislike of holidays, but a refusal to bend before traditions that no longer stir his soul.
The ancients too knew the burden of ritual without meaning. In Rome, countless festivals were held, and while some lifted the heart, others became mere spectacles, their sacred origins forgotten beneath excess. Philosophers warned that feasts without reflection become distractions, dulling the mind and leading the people away from virtue. Thus the curmudgeon is not always wrong; sometimes he is the guardian of authenticity, reminding us to ask: Why do we celebrate? What is the heart of this day?
Consider the story of Diogenes the Cynic, who mocked the rituals and pretenses of his society. While others rejoiced in pomp and ceremony, Diogenes lived simply, scorned hollow conventions, and sought truth rather than pageantry. Many called him bitter, a curmudgeon of his age. Yet through his defiance, he taught generations to question customs that enslave rather than free. Middleditch’s disdain for Valentine’s, New Year’s, and Halloween may be a lighter echo of this same impulse: a refusal to accept celebration simply because it is expected.
The origin of such feelings lies in the commercialization of modern holidays. Valentine’s Day, once a remembrance of love and devotion, has become for many a parade of cards, flowers, and forced gestures. New Year’s, once a sacred time of renewal, is too often reduced to noise and drunken revelry. Halloween, once a reflection on death and the spirit world, has turned into costumes and candy. For some, such changes do not inspire joy, but weariness. To confess dislike of them is not to hate joy, but to yearn for sincerity.
This teaching is not against celebration itself, but against celebration without depth. For true festivity comes not from obligation, but from the heart. It comes when the day is filled with meaning, when laughter is not hollow, when remembrance is genuine. A man who does not delight in public holidays may still find greater joy in the quiet gathering of friends, the shared meal, the honest conversation. These are not bound to the calendar; they are eternal.
The lesson is clear: do not be bound by the world’s insistence on when and how you must celebrate. Seek meaning, not mere ritual. If a holiday fills you with emptiness, do not force yourself to join the crowd. Instead, create your own sacred times—moments of reflection, acts of love, occasions of remembrance that carry real weight for you. The curmudgeon’s refusal can become a path of freedom, a reminder that authenticity is more precious than conformity.
Practical steps follow: ask yourself what traditions truly nourish your soul. If Valentine’s Day feels shallow, show love in small, daily ways instead of once a year. If New Year’s revelry feels hollow, create your own ritual of renewal—write your hopes, forgive old grievances, plant seeds for the future. If Halloween feels frivolous, spend time honoring ancestors, reflecting on mortality, or simply enjoying quiet. Let your celebrations be chosen, not imposed.
Thus Middleditch’s words, though spoken playfully, carry an ancient wisdom: the curmudgeon is not always the enemy of joy, but sometimes its protector. He rejects what is hollow so that what is real may endure. Let us not fear to question the rituals handed to us, but instead seek the heart of celebration, where joy is not demanded, but discovered. For the greatest feast is not on the calendar, but in the soul that celebrates with sincerity.
NKNguyen Khanh
Thomas Middleditch’s quote about not enjoying holidays like Valentine’s Day, New Year's, and Halloween brings up a great question: what makes a holiday meaningful? Is it the societal rituals attached to them, or can they hold personal significance even outside of tradition? It seems like there’s a real conversation to be had about opting out of mainstream celebrations and focusing on more individual or intimate ways of marking the passage of time. Do you agree with him, or do you find these holidays worthwhile?
NTNaM ThAi
I love that Thomas Middleditch embraces his 'curmudgeon' side – it’s refreshing to hear someone challenge the norms of holiday celebrations. Valentine’s Day and Halloween can sometimes seem forced or too much about consumption rather than genuine connection. Do you think his dislike stems from a dislike of over-commercialization, or is it more about avoiding the public display of emotion these holidays often encourage? Can holidays be celebrated in a way that feels more authentic?
T7Nguyen Truc 7a4
Thomas Middleditch seems to be voicing a sentiment that a lot of people share but don’t always express: the discomfort with holidays that feel more about obligation than enjoyment. Could it be that people are starting to question the value of holidays like Valentine’s Day, which often feel more commercial than meaningful? Should we rethink the way we celebrate these days, or do you think it’s okay to just enjoy the tradition as it is?
VNVy Ng
It's interesting to hear Thomas Middleditch’s take on not liking Valentine’s Day, New Year's, and Halloween. While some see these as fun ways to celebrate, others might find them exhausting or shallow. Is there an underlying frustration with societal pressure to participate in these celebrations? Maybe he’s just pointing out that there’s value in opting out of the traditional celebrations. Do you think it’s possible to have fulfilling holidays without following the mainstream norms?
MHPham Minh Hoang
I can totally relate to Thomas Middleditch's feelings about Valentine’s Day and Halloween. Sometimes, the expectations around these holidays can feel overwhelming. But is his aversion to these holidays more about the social pressure, or does he genuinely dislike the way these events are celebrated? Could it be that many of us are just worn out by the over-hype and commercialization of holidays? What’s your take – are we getting too bogged down by traditions?