Happy Humbug Day

2012-12-10 19.49.01
Happy First Xmas

And once again it’s that time of year where everyone spends a ton of cash sending bits of paper through the mail to people they haven’t seen since that holiday in Torremolinos in 1997; stress themselves silly trying to get the last remaining [insert current trendy toy here] for the kids for them to cling to for a week before binning it for the next piece of cheap mass-produced, but well-marketed crap; assault their digestive systems with far too much… well, everything – especially sprouts.

Yet for some reason, people call it a celebration.

Humbug.

OK, let me be specific. Humbug to all the stuff in the first paragraph. It’s fluff. It’s unnecessary. It’s nice, I suppose, but in the end it succeeds only in making the retailers happy.

What makes most of us happy at this time of year? Spending time with the family. And I include myself in this – despite recalling many, many holiday seasons in the past which I enjoyed hugely simply because I was on my own.

The Americans have one thing right. Which is pretty poor, given the size of the country, but hey. One thing’s better than nothing. They have the Thanksgiving holiday. A holiday the sole purpose of which (OK, sole other than to make Hallmark even richer) is to bring families together and make them recognise that they all have something to say “thank you” for. It’s non-denominational. It doesn’t exclude anyone based on race, colour, creed, height, or even if they’re ginger. Hell, they even invite non-Americans if they’re kicking about in the country on their own.

It is more important for Americans to be with their family for this one annual meal than it is at any other time of the year.

Here in the UK, we don’t have Thanksgiving. The closest we have is Xmas/Christmas/the December holiday. Family is what it’s all about. Kids opening those crappy presents they’ll have broken before the batteries (which you forgot to buy, you fool) run out. Grandad pretending to be Santa, handing stuff out. Thirty+ people crammed into a house designed to hold half a dozen if they think elbow room is a luxury.

And the one or two members of the family celebrating it with a little one who’s going through it all for the first time.

That’s me, that is.

Humbug to everything else. The best Christmas present I ever received arrived 5 months to the day earlier. She wasn’t delivered by a fat bloke in an ill-fitting suit. She was delivered by my beautiful wife, Gillian. She needed wrapping when we got her. She’s self-powered – we just add milk and sloppy stuff from tubs. We’ve also managed not to break her (although at times it feels like she’s breaking us).

She’s beautiful. Perfect.

This is her first Christmas – and I couldn’t be any more thankful.

So, to all friends and family – have a brilliant day, but specifically:

Gillian – thank you. For being my wife and the mother of all three of our children. I can never repay what you’ve given me. But I’ll do my best.

Ellissa – we don’t always get on, but you’re the best annoyingly pre-teenage daughter a man could ever wish for.

Austin – I defy anyone to claim they have a better son than I have in you.

Ann – if it weren’t for you, I’d not have Gillian. Mothers-in-law like you are the reason Bernard Manning ran out of steam all those years ago, and I can never thank you enough for letting me marry your daughter.

Mum & Dad – I know you were generous to a fault all these years, and I had some cracking presents. But I’m sure you’ll agree that none of them can match what I have to be happy about today.

And in case you forgot who it was writing all this: HUMBUG.

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Let’s change the subject

I kind of realised I’m ever so slightly behind on updating this poll thing, so here are the results from the last one. Seems most of you aren’t really that bothered about the festive season, which about ties in with what the papers were saying.

At least I know I’m not the only miserable bastard out here. I’m just better at it than you lot.

Results of Xmas poll
Results of Xmas poll

I have to come up with a new poll now. Argh. OK, let’s go completely hatstand. Nothing topical, just something random. Go clicky lefty handy sidey columny thingy…

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The bookies won’t like this

White Xmas?
White Xmas?

Believe it or not, in the UK this paltry dusting of frozen water classes as a “white xmas”. At least, it does if the snow falls on a certain area at any point between midnight and midnight. In London, it’s a 3′ x 3′ concrete square on top of the weather centre that’s only checked once per hour. I assume therefore that if there isn’t someone up there at the right time and the snow doesn’t lie, then it doesn’t count.

Anyway, as I type this up there is the slightest of flurries outside. I suppose it counts as a flurry as I can see more than two flakes at once, but only just. So the first white xmas I can recall since I was a kid and there’s not even enough to make a snowball, let alone bury a corpse in to keep it fresh for a few days. I just hope it doesn’t get too bad and make my drive to Blackburn tomorrow too troublesome.

Actually, maybe missing the match would be a mercy.

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Bah humbug – poll results, new poll and stuff

Bah Humbug Cake
Bah Humbug Cake

One quick picture of a co-gift from Sharon and her mum. Mrs Sharon Senior is one of the world’s leading exponents in making very nice xmas cake indeed. Sharon iced it. The cheeky cow.

On a xmasy theme… another two-question poll. The BBC Magazine has an article about the use of “xmas” and the reasons for/against it. What are your views? The second one’s a simple one – how festive are you?

For the record, I use “xmas” because I’m not religious and, partly in deference to those who are, prefer not to refer to something I don’t believe in. I’d not expect a practising Christian to yell “Oh, mighty ALLAH!” if they banged their thumb with a hammer, for instance! Also, it’s less typing and I’m lazy.

I’ll let you all guess as what I put for question 2.

And finally, the results of the previous poll about home security and how violent we should be allowed to get with the filth who wander in and think they can nick all our stuff, rape our dogs and piss in our hollowed-out skulls. Basically, you lot seem to be closet psychopaths, but are less likely to go ahead and kill a thug even if you feel they deserve it.

You’ll learn… I can help.

poll-homesafe
Results of Home Security poll