Wednesday, 16 November 2022

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like November

Hello, dear reader!

There are, as the year unfolds certain events that are worthy of celebration. Day that should be marked. Festivals worthy of observing. I’m not so much talking about birthdays, because every day is somebody’s birthday, and I’m not talking about the ones which remain the sole preserve of churches, temples, or synagogues. No, I mean the big ones, the ones that even if you’re not into all that god stuff you’ll probably celebrate anyway.

Such as Christmas.

Which is in December.

Wise Crack
I feel the need to state that last fact because it increasingly seems to have escaped the notice of, well, mainly people selling things.

The television, that wonderful old friend, has, in recent weeks, been overtaken by adverts stressing the joys of rampant consumerism so embedded in the messages of peace, love, and fellowship Christmas holds. It’s almost tempting to imagine Caspar (not the friendly ghost) and Balthazar waiting until Black Friday to purchase their frankincense and Myrrh, while Melchior misses the boat and tries to get hold of his gold on Cyber Monday.

And it’s not just the commercial’s either.

On Song
Tina, my always-amazing Mrs. and I took a trip to the cinema on Monday to catch Wakanda Forever (extremely highly recommended), and as we entered the hallowed hall of The White Rose Centre, we were assaulted by the cry of the lesser spotted BublĂ© being cranked out over the tannoys. The song was the one referenced in the title of the blog. The alteration may or may not have been one I loudly provided on the day.

You see, Tina likes to point out my anti-festive feelings on occasions like this. She likes to point out my lack of enthusiasm when it comes to talk of trimmings and tinsel and trees, and all the other tat. She likes to call me Grinchy. She likes to say I’m a bah-humbugger (at least, I think that’s what she said.

She couldn’t be more wrong.

I like Christmas, I really do. Alright, I’m not one for the religious side of things, partially as all the evidence suggests any historical Jesus wouldn’t have been born in December, but mainly because I find the whole story kind of unbelievable. I like the rest of it though.

Ups And Downs
I like gifts, both the giving and the receiving (but not the shopping for). I like the food, and I mean all of the food (well, not the sprouts. I might be greedy. I’m not insane). I like the booze. I like the telly (some of) the films (Yippee-ki-yay!). I like spending time with friends and family, crackers, kisses under the mistletoe, some of the carols (especially the rude versions), The Fairytale Of New York, Mr. Hanky The Xmas Poo, Felice Navidad, and Slade. I like it all.

But not for six weeks.

No, for my money, the day itself should be kept special. Whether that’s for religious reasons or more temporal, human fellowship type motivations, spreading it out for so long, for me, dilutes it. For me, a simple exchange of presents, a nice meal, and some time for the kids to get entirely too giddy hits the spot. I see no need for the extension. No need for the baubles and the tinsel except for perhaps the week running up to the day. I’m not even that big a fan of putting the tree up. After all, it only comes down again a week or two later.

No, much to Tina chagrin, I’m not about to get excited for Christmas just yet. The night before, yes. At that point I’ll be more than ready to sink into the season. I might even get a little giddy. A month and a half beforehand, meh, not so much. There’s too much life to come first. Too many special days or even just days you can make special. Too many birthdays. Too much football.

I just hope it doesn’t get too grating before I get the chance.

Until next time...


Psst! Hey, folks! If you would care to take a look at some of my more creative writing, then the links below will transport you to the magical worlds of a few anthologies my short (and in two cases, very short) stories have been included in. Feel free to check ’em out!

New Tales Of Old: Volume 2

Death Ship



The Musketeers Vs Cthulhu

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