SILLY season is here again. A time for digging out all those christmas albums that you feel foolish playing at any other time of year and blasting them out non-stop from December 1st until New Year. A time when even I become a little more approachable. A time when my depression lifts slightly (although not so much the last couple of years). Things just seem a little better at this festive time. A time of nostalgia with all those happy memories of Christmases past.
Oh, how I remember my old family Christmases, when we used to take advantage of the disorientation that always happened between Christmas and New Year; heavily sedating most of the members of the family on Christmas Eve, enabling us to purchase their gifts in the post-Christmas sales because we were so cheap. The big family Christmas dinner with its week’s worth of turkey. The look of glee on people’s faces as they tore open the wrapping paper, full of hopeful expectation, followed by a look of disappointment upon revealing the gift inside. The same old films on telly every year – White Christmas, The Great Escape and Scrooge. Throwing rotten fruit and vegetables at the Christmas carollers.
Oh, the fun we had trying to maintain the illusion of Christmas Day by recording the programmes people wanted to see and playing them according to the TV listings for the big day. And when the festivities were over, we drugged them again in order to keep in step with the outside world and blaming the loss of a day or two on the amount of alcohol consumed or to the exhaustion following the great excitement. Doesn’t this time of year just make you all dewy-eyed?
I don’t know about you, dear reader, but I’m going to wring as much joy as I can out of this wonderful time of year as you never know quite what’s around the corner. So put on your best Bing Crosby impersonation, sing White Christmas, loosen your trousers or skirt for the coming feast, veg out in front of the telly and have a very merry Christmas!