Essayist Richard Lowe on the Joys of Doing Nothing over the Holidays

The holiday spirit is everywhere in the Valley, from festive decor along Ventura Boulevard to neighborhood pockets upholding  traditions of excessive lighting and garishly large blowup Santas. As we hightail it toward the end of the year, I’m reminded of how much I’m looking forward to the two-week break. Not because we have any big plans—in fact, quite the opposite. Despite the FOMO-induced urge to travel, for me and my family, ’tis the season to stay put. Not leaving Los Angeles in December is the real Christmas miracle.

It may sound “bah humbug,” but truth is I’m not really a Grinch. (That might surprise some of you more loyal readers.) I still enjoy a lot about the holiday season: the gatherings, decorations, endless pie and inevitable changing into stretchy pants. It’s just that I’ve discovered there’s a real joy in doing nothing to end the year. For us, the first 50 weeks move at a breakneck speed. That’s why a few years ago, I finally convinced my globetrotting wife to hit the brakes. 

Since putting down my foot—and my luggage—we’ve found new ways to celebrate. Instead of being guests, we’ve become the hosts, inviting family over and sharing our perfect 75° weather. Last year, we took our family to the Malibu Pier. We wore shorts and walked on the beach. Our guests’ hometown is rainy and cold, so naturally, they loved being here. 

Even my wife, the intrepid explorer, has embraced it. She’s started a new Christmas Eve tradition of dressing all of us up and going to Lawry’s restaurant with our family friends, the Chos. While we eat a far-too-cold spun salad and way-too-large slices of prime rib, our kids exchange gifts, and we listen to the carolers. And then, of course, there’s Christmas morning, made all the more special by waking up in our own beds. Rather than opening presents in a hotel and belaboring the fantasy of Santa by explaining how he schleps his sleigh through the lobby and up an elevator, we get the comfort of our own home.

However, the best part of staying here is the vibe. Oh, the vibe. The city goes quiet, and it feels like nothing is stirring, not even a mouse. In these moments it feels like the Valley belongs to me. Our morning strolls in the crisp, cool air feel more serene. Traffic has died down. The farmers market feels calmer. Call me a simple man, but coasting down an open 101 to a free-flowing 405 in the middle of the day is pretty damn close to bliss. And the parking? You haven’t lived until you’ve felt the thrill of a street lined with open meters. 

So, let it snow, let it snow, on a near-empty Valley. I’d recommend it, but that would spoil my fun. Turns out, the less the merrier. So, to you and yours, wishing you a happy holiday. Now please go enjoy your trip.

Richard, his wife and two daughters decorate their Christmas tree in Studio City.