“Come in, and know me better man.”
“Nah, I’m good mate.”
Well, we had two days of clear skies before the air became so murky again that Rudolph is coming out of retirement this Xmas eve. So begins my second festive season spent in the Jing. I’d be lying if I said the idea makes my stomach shake like a bowl full of jelly, which has less to do with being away from friends and family and more to do with being a bit of a Dickensian bastard when it comes to the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.
I wouldn’t quite go so far as to wish that every idiot who goes about with ‘Merry Christmas’ on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart, but I would go as far as to hope that those who wish to honor Christmas, and try to keep it all the year, would kindly do so at least half a mile the fuck away from me.
“Wtf?” I hear you ask. “Is your heart two sizes two small?” “Did you sleep through a visit from your deceased business partner telling you to mend your ways?”
Not at all, it’s just that I’m exactly as excited about pagan origins, Christian dogma and rampant consumerism as I am about rocking around the Christmas tree with someone who has contagions leprosy.
If you want to celebrate this very special season in whatever way makes you merry, go right ahead. I wish only the best to you (and your king). But when it comes to sending out homemade Xmas cards you can colour mine red and white and thoroughly underwhelmed. My siblings have long ago given up*…
It doesn’t mean that I don’t watch Gremlins or sing along with Michael Caine and Kermit the frog semi-annually, it just means that I’m tired of pointing out every fucking year that no, I really didn’t watch the John Lewis advert and yes I honestly have much better things to do than watch Doctor Who save Christmas for the eighty-seventh time (and everyone knows I have no beef with Doctor Who).
So I’m off to celebrate Xmas in my own special way. The way I always have. Instead of throwing guineas out the window for people to fetch a goose, I’m just going down the pub with some mates.
*… except when I memorably received a message saying ‘Happy Whatever Doesn’t Offend You”.