Christmas. A time for giving, a time for getting. A time for forgiving and for forgetting. A time for Cliff Richard to once again release a saccharine-infused addition to his canon of cheesey listening crapsodies, preferably with a childrens choir warbling annoyingly in the background.
It's also a time for buying each other presents, all due to the valuable lesson (taught us by an impartial retail industry) that plain emotions will no longer cut the mustard when it comes to expressing how we actually feel about each other. After all, nothing says I love more than an iPhone. With built-in 'love' application.
Now bear with me a moment as I clamber upon my festive soap box.
People just seem to have forgotten the true meaning of Christmas. For all my Catholic...er...ness, I'll admit that I'm not completely clear on the original story, but I think it had something to do with Jesus being visited by three wise ghosts: the ghost of Christmas past, present and future. One of the ghosts then turns out to be the Archangel Clarence, who ultimately stops James Stewart from committing suicide. Meanwhile Jesus sees the error of his ways, hitches a ride with John Candy's jazz band all the way to Nazareth and defends Richard Attenborough in a court case, proving that Dickie is in fact the real Santa Claus. Or something like that.
Christmas is essentially about taking a breather at the end of the year, taking of stock of the past twelve months and steeling yourself for those ahead. It is also, more importantly, about obligatorily spending time with your family. And I mean real, actual time, not false imitations like skypery or facebookism.
And yes, this family-time does mean lots of pointless presents and ill fitting jumpers and unwanted socks and so forth. But my point is that presents should remain secondary to the central festive theme of annual togetherness and friendly bickering, not the driving factor.
True, I will inevitably once again buy my dad a book he's forgotten he's read and he'll add it to the dusty pile of last years such books, along with the mobile phone we bought him about two years ago in the vain hope of dragging him into the 21st century (alas for him, technology peaked at smoke signals and carrier pigeons). And to think, he used to be an engineer.
And yes, I will tease my nieces and nephew with some sort of 'moral gift' such as a goat to feed a family of ten in Bangladesh, before giving them some combination of over-sugared confectionery and short-term-novelty toy. Like a chocolate-chip chocolate bar or a Hannah Montana nerfgun.
But let us all remember that Christmas, regardless of the presents that are bandied around, is about family and togetherness. And watching Grandpa Des getting mullered on sherry and soiling himself in the corner. And shelling about a thousand brussel sprouts that will never get eaten. And watching about ten minutes of The Great Escape before switching channels to something with better special effects.
These are the things to remember. So on that note, sit back, throw another carol singer on the fire, and pour yourself a nice glass of mulled vodka. Christmas is here, so let's enjoy it. Together.
Because let's face it- January is shit.
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