With the summer officially over and winter’s dark tendrils reaching across muck-strewn country lanes and cobbled city streets, it’s inevitable that thoughts of Christmas will soon be knocking on our wisteria-covered doors.
For some, this time of year presents one long snow-covered adventure holiday however, for others, it’s about as much fun as an evening discussing knitwear with Val Doonican.
Now, maybe it’s the sight of mince pies in early October or perhaps an equally unwanted appearance of Cliff Richard on the telly but, this year, Yuletide appears to be looming as ominously as a gigantic Stay Puft Susan Boyle hunting for charity concerts.
So, if you’re looking forward to images of tinsel-covered elves gaily sprinkling their magic dust in children’s eyes or perhaps the fowl stench of Santa’s reindeer as they clatter their hooves over a freshly tiled roof then look away now because below are my top ten reasons to hate Christmas.
Oh I wish it could be Christmas every daaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyy
Be it adverts on TV, a ‘cheery’ postman or the overbearing throb of a shop’s sound system, Christmas music penetrates our ear drums deeper than a sharpened Biro ever could. It wouldn’t be so bad if perhaps there was a little bit more choice but the continual loop of Wizard, McCartney, Wham is enough to turn even the most Christian of shopper into a gun toting psychopath before the end of November.
Forced holiday time
For the majority of us hard working folk who aimlessly batter away at a keyboard from five in the morning until midnight, the thought of a day off is held in as high regard as eating a Faberge egg or receiving a signed photo of Burt Kwouk however, when this miraculous work-free day of ‘rest’ is dedicated to entertaining in-laws, shopping for nonsense such as goose gizzards or tethering a Norwegian Spruce to your chimney the chances are that you’ll enjoy it as much as a trip to Rochdale.
Town gets busy
Be it your well-deserved lunch time break or perhaps a moonlit stroll to the local Glitzy Cinema for the latest moving picture starring Morgan Fairchild, there’s always fun to be had navigating the bright lights of a pedestrianised town centre, that is, unless it’s Christmas. There’s nothing more disturbing, apart from chickens, than the chatter of women, children and grown-men running from shop to shop as they grab handfuls of clothes, toys and glitter-covered paraphernalia all in the name of season’s greetings. Advice reads as: don’t step foot into town during December however, if you have to, wear a leather tunic or armour-plated tabard.
The Queen’s Speech
Where is she for the other 364 days of the year? What words of wisdom does our monarch impart during the summer months when we need advice about how to live a moral and happy existence instead of looting, getting sun-burn and heading off for two weeks of hedonism in a former Spanish fishing village that has sold its soul to the notes that bear her own image? If it wasn’t for her majesty’s ability to inspire narcolepsy within your entire family she’d be switched off quicker than the proposed showing of: Christmas at Home with Anthea Turner.
TV festive specials
The BBC continually spend our licence fee on costume dramas and sporting events such as people running in the north of England however, come the festive fortnight you can guarantee that they’ll be wheeling out Rodney & Dell-Boy, Gavin & Stacey and Morecome & Wise quicker than you can say ‘I wonder if Trigger actually has some serious mental health issues?’.
Joke telling has been around ever since our relatives used to compare their mother-in-laws to woolly mammoths so why oh why are we still filling Christmas crackers with re-cycled jokes that are more inclined to reduce us to bemusement rather than amusement? And what’s going on with the little gifts? Surely they can do better than a plastic elephant or moving fish that tells our future?! If it wasn’t for the crack of Chinese dynamite to wake everyone up, these useless pieces of tradition would be out quicker than a turkey’s spleen.
So many decisions
Duck or goose? Pheasant or peacock? There is no end to the decision-making process associated with Christmas and be it: what to eat, where to eat or when to eat, you can be sure of two things: your grandma will think the sprouts are undercooked and your neighbour will cast aspersions as to your wife or husband’s tabernacles. Of course, aside from food, the choices only intensify and from: what to watch on the television to what wrapping paper is more suitable for an eight year old girl (robots or thistles) you’ll find your brain twisted inside out thanks to the virtual planet’s worth of thought management that will fall onto your slender shoulders.
When was the last time that you actually encountered carol singers gamely gathering on your porch in readiness to recite such festive classics as: Silent Night, We Three Kings or Not Tonight Mrs Wilkinson the Dog’s Got Cholera? The answer is never – they don’t exist – carol singers are as fictional as mistletoe and the only reason that we associate them with Christmas is due to a 1960’s Baxter’s soup advert featuring Patti LaBelle and Peter Cushing.
The office Christmas party
Regarded by some as the pinnacle of the year and by others as the equivalent of Dante’s vision of hell, the office Christmas party is a rite of passage that every new member of staff needs to experience at least once in their lives. Traditionally held in an actual place of work hence: comical photocopying of body parts and secreting of stationery, the common theme tends to revolve around alcoholic consumption, talking to people (attractive members of the opposite sex or occupying higher-management positions) that you’d never usually talk to and watching colleagues that you once almost respected try to breakdance.
Snow fall on 25th December
People south of Norwich, face the facts, it’s never going to snow on Christmas Day ever, ok, get over it. The continued will it won’t it debate, perpetuated by desperate weather forecasters, is about as meaningful as the ten day forecast being accurate. The truth of the matter is that thanks to global warming we’ll probably all be under water by the 2012 Olympics so just pray it doesn’t rain let alone snow!
The fact is that Christmas wouldn’t be the same without any of the above and love it or loath it, there’s no denying that it’s here to stay and the best thing to do is cover yourself in goose fat and dive right in!