I have to be honest, we’re at that time of year when I wish Xmas was all over along with its awkward cousin, New Year. It gets in the way of normal life and frankly, I don’t even know what it is. Who or what is Santa? How does buying cheap aftershave or socks for someone you barely know or like have anything to do with Jesus? And how did it become a national materialistic orgasm that lasts a month? Haven’t we done this before? Can’t we recall previous disappointments? Do we have to do it all again while looking down pitifully on those who absent themselves from the charade?
Some companies wait for this time of year to do most of their trade. Not us. We always understood there’s life after Xmas and if you doubled trade in December, you’d half it in January and that you’re no further forward. Relax. If you enjoy the whole thing, fair enough. Who am I to deny pleasure? But being bullied into it isn't my idea of a good time. A forced smile isn’t a smile.
This may be me just being a grumpy old git of course. The fact we don’t have any kids may be something to do with not seeing the magic in the season. But it was once very different. Once upon a time, Christmas was the only time you got albums, if you were lucky. I assiduously made lists for a month which were equally assiduously ignored by my parents most years, which is how I ended up with Elvis’ 40 Golden Greats one year.
I did get Meddle one year which I’d have liked to see them ask for in HMV. And my Best of Status Quo was another. But I always opened records presents with some trepidation in case it was Touch Me by Gary Glitter!! What were they thinking? One year I was given a t-shirt of Wishbone Ash’s Live Dates. I thought it was great and was delighted they’d at least noted my tastes, trouble was I was a big 15 and it was a small child’s size. They’d just bought it without thinking about size. I wore it, but it was more like a bra.
I got Tubular Bells one year which was declared to be ‘not proper songs’ and ‘too weird’ but also got unwanted singles by the Osmonds, Barry Blue and the New Seekers and also, bizarrely, Glad b/w Freedom Rider a red vinyl French release which I wish I still had worth about £25 if I could find one now. Where did that come from? “Mackays newsagent had some singles” No that doesn't really explain it. Two tracks from Traffic’s John Barleycorn Must Die. I don’t know why this was in the northeast of England to this day. It was as if they thought it was all pop music, so all the same. I learned young how to mask disappointment, but the sick feeling in my guts as I opened the gift has never left me. I did get Relics by Pink Floyd off my grandma, who presented it to me, along with a cup of tea which she rather eccentrically always stood beside me while I drank it, in order to then take it away and wash it up. I played the Pink Floyd record while she waited. ‘That sounds funny,' was her only comment. She was probably my age now at the time, but seemed ancient.
As I got older I asked for record vouchers (remember them?) instead of risking it and would go to WHSmith and proudly bring home Hawkwind’s In Search Of Space or Too Late To Save A Drowning Witch by Frank Zappa which was always greeted with the same ‘more weird noise, John?’
This probably explains my antipathy to the season along with various other strange, unwanted gifts such as a nurses outfit. A female nurse, that is. And a rugby ball when I didn’t play rugby. Some plastic scissors? Just what I always wanted. This tube of glue is perfect, thank you. Argh, the flashbacks!!
More weird noise, John? A Xmas Rant...
