© Pierre Maré,
2004 - 2007
Offbeat 30
Christmas lurks around the corner and the festive spirit is not upon me. Santa arrived sometime in mid November, parked his sleigh and has refused to leave the shopping malls ever since. As usual there is more tinsel than anyone knows what to do with and so many twinkling electric lights that they can probably be seen from space.
I could swear I catch glimpses of elves loitering behind cash registers with intent to do grievous financial harm to my wallet, but every time I try to catch them in the act, they magically turn into shop assistants and try to get me to buy stuff that I neither need nor want with the possible exceptions of a Playstation II, a faster motherboard for my computer, a new graphics card, some of the new games that need a faster motherboard and a new graphics card, Lego Technics for my two year old daughter, a new car, a bigger house, a more accommodating bank balance, a couple of very profitable employees, no make that a dozen, and so on…
This Christmas I will not do the usual Christmas things. The mere prospect of a happy Christmas party with fellowship and good cheer makes me dour and the thought of egg nog and brightly coloured liqueurs gives me a headache that feels as if the hangover arrived a few days too early.
Christmas used to be great. The spirit of getting was strong. I loved new toys and books. The food was always special, and there were enough sweets to make me nauseous. Nowadays, it’s very different.
I love the giving and getting. It’s the spending that gets me down. I suspect that Santa’s operation has been infiltrated by marketing people and venture capitalists with an eye on the money and territorial expansion linked to seasonal gains. You will easily be able to tell them apart from the other elves: they will be extra large ones that don’t fit into the nifty little green elf uniforms.
The scary alternative is to make my own Christmas gifts, but given my unique ability to unerringly glue bits of cardboard to my own thumb and my complete inability to do anything that involves clay, pencils, paper, woodwork and fancy stuff with cunningly arranged bits of fruit, everyone will be a lot happier if I don’t go that route.
On the other hand Christmas is still great. It’s a time for me to be with those I love, particularly my daughter. My wife has talked me out of buying Lego Technics for her, but there are still a few little items that we will enjoy together.
The first item on my daughter's Christmas list (we have to write it for her) is a new video. I can recite whole chunks of Disney’s ‘Lion King’ off by heart and have now had more than my fair share of it. An alternative video will do wonders for the sanity of my household.
The second item on her Christmas list is another Richard Scarry book. The mark of a great and memorable storybook is that it can be enjoyed by adults. If adults don’t enjoy the book, it gets discarded pretty quickly so children can’t remember it regardless. Richard Scarry, for those of you who have not yet had the pleasure, hides a worm wearing a tyrolean hat and a sock in many of his pictures. I’m not sure how my daughter has benefited educationally from this, but finding the little sucker keeps Daddy amused.
The third item on her list is a tricky one. It’s a nice long nap in the afternoon. She might not appreciate it unless it creeps up on her and catches her by surprise, but her mother and father will.
There may well be more, but Christmas shopping is always done at the last minute.
My personal experience of the magic of Christmas seems to have diminished but it lives on in her. She is too young to appreciate the anticipation, but old enough to enjoy the moment. There is great joy to be had in starry eyed anticipation and excitement that light up her face whenever she sees something in wrapping paper.
If there is a magic to Christmas, it is not in the rituals of the day and the standard social gatherings, formal or otherwise. As long as there is one excited child, Christmas will endure.
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