Word is they’re on about cancelling Christmas. For fear of sounding like the Grinch, good. Bring it on. I bloody hate Christmas.
Kids of a certain age, as in my age, are probably feeling the same way as I am. And that’s because we’re eighties kids, born in the seventies, with all the memories of those eighties christmasses looming over you every year to remind you just how crap Christmas has become in this post-post-post-modern world.
Years ago it was all about watching Top of the Pops for all the Christmas number 1s, and we could console ourselves in later years that Christmas was almost as good, by putting on Top of the Pops Two, a re-run of all those magical times, where you could listen to those hits and be happy in your memories. Now, we can’t even do that. The world has got so messed up that those old shows have now been banned, due to the fact that they were largely presented by paedophiles. All the old Christmas names have been wiped out. Ok not all, but you get the idea. Nearly all.
I remember going to see a youth theatre production that my son was in in Narberth, where the kids had written their own pieces. The one that stands out for me is these little kids in a group presenting their “Expectation versus Reality” turn. It was spot on. All the magical promises in the adverts get completely destroyed by the reality of the actual day, and not just the day, the lead up, the shopping, the credit card debt, the pressure, and everything else that goes with it.
Christmas used to be charity week in school and me and my mates sending each other the crappest, flimsiest cards in the cheapy Christmas card box for funsies; the cards with the candle on, the ones that were always the last in the box, because they were so bad.
Now Christmas is families desperately trying to get together, when the families are all so split that it’s a logistical impossibility to have everyone together at the same time, meaning that someone always misses out on seeing the kids, or the grandkids, on that special, allocated day, and have to make concessions to boxing day, to sharing people out fairly, so that everyone feels stressed out and a little bit disappointed in one way or another.
Everyone feels like they’ve got to buy loads of presents, and so they get themselves into debt. I got my first ever credit card because it was Christmas. You spend all year saving up a bit of dosh, and then you end up blowing it all on Christmas. And no matter how much you tell yourself that this year you’re not gonna go hotty-potty, you get to the 20 somethingth of December and suddenly have a crisis that you haven’t bought enough and off you go, to buy more stuff, that never looks enough once it’s unwrapped, and that no-one ever really likes, because it’s from Tesco.
And all that paper. Yes, I know there are ladies on Pinterest making recycled wrapping paper, but if you have kids, with 20 million stocking fillers, then that’s hardly appropriate. How many times have you bought little bits of random tat just so that such and such will have “more to open”? I hate shops and avoid them all year, but at Christmas I turn into this mad shop monster that feels the need to go into every single shop with a decoration in the window just in case it contains that elusive present for two adult sons that are completely impossible to buy for.
So anyway. I think it’s a great idea. Ban it forever. Make a new festival to do with the shortest day, the solstice, that lasts a week so that you can see everyone within the allocated time period and no one gets left out and then no one feels that wistful melancholy so usually associated with our current spangle fest. Bin the present thing, bring back the Christmas song number one thing with all proceeds to Macmillan Nurses every year, and make Christmas good again. Because if it stays this crap, Covid or no Covid, I’m super happy to stop the whole thing forever.