Those bright and bedazzling lights? Bulbs everywhere; sprinkling the streets, peppering tree branches and igniting the city. But it’s not the lights I want most.
What about the air? That fresh, crisp and magical gush that surges through the streets. Seeing the Londoners tucked up in their knitted scarves, scurrying through the shopping rush. All those freezing faces hustling and bustling, drenched in hats, gloves, jumpers galore. The air wants to play. It playfully pinches at their fingertips and nibbles at their noses, sniggering, swirling and whistling excitedly as they squirm about red faced. But it’s not the air I want most.
What about the sumptuous food? From the crispy, golden potatoes to that succulent, tender roast turkey; it’s a banquet of bountiful proportions. Then there’s those crumbling mince pies, the baked and toasted treats and of course the melt-in-your-mouth chocolates. Oh how they melt; softening, soothing and gently slow dancing with your palette before that final warm, buttery kiss. But it’s not the food I want most.
Then how about the pressies? Bright and shimmering wrappers, rustling and mysterious. The festive giggling of children, the pure wonder rippling across their eyes as they await Mr. Claus. But it’s not the presents or smiles I want most.
This year the jingling bells, sparkling eyes, shimmering presents, magical air, flashing lights and tantalising treats are not what my heart is set on. This year, I have a far greater request. What I crave and long for more than any of this and what I truly, truly want is for Christmas…
NOT TO HAVE STARTED IN BLIMMING OCTOBER!
It’s just ridiculous. A quarter of our year is spent in the Christmas season! Before we’ve even hit Halloween, in flood the anachronistic, monotonous adverts and to accompany them, the shops start selling mince pies, with sell by dates before December I’d like to point out. Oh and don’t get me started on the music. In creep those three disgustingly overplayed songs. Yes Mariah, I do know all you want for Christmas, just as I do every single ruddy year. And George? Do us all a favour, learn from your mistakes and stop giving your heart away every blimming Christmas! I’m sick of hearing you wallow in self pity year in, year out. Man up. Oh and Pogues, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. Yes we have a chuckle the first time we hear your abusive slurring each year, but then you just milk it until my ‘ears are ringing out for you to stop’
Not to sound like a grumpy old fart (though since turning 17 this month my back definitely isn’t as flexible as it used to be) but I think retailers are killing the Christmas spirit. Yes, I understand they make about 70% of their revenue in the run up to Christmas but it’s time we defined the ‘run up’. As summer fades, retailers panic and begin desperately scrabbling for some money source to tap into. Then BAM, it hits them; jingle bells.
This madness must end! So, naturally, I have a proposal. From 2012, I say we bottle up the festive magic and only uncork it from December 1st.However as we are now knee high in the December delirium, the bottle is not only open, but the festive spirit has completely spilt out all over the city for us to splash about in. So, lets splash away.
Wishing you all peace and warmth this Christmas X