Christmas is a time of cheer and happiness and a time aimed at those on the right side of 20 rather than those of us well over 35. Most the the seasonal magic is lost on those of us that have finally decided that perhaps the fatman in the red suit isn't real and that the scarlet nosed flying wonder is about as realistic as a liberal election pledge. Christmas is a time that usually divides us into our little interest groups which invariably leads to conflict over the holiday break.
The youngest are mainly interested in the magical visit on the 25th and the sack of well earned presents that appear mysteriously at the end of their bed. They happily believe that pixie dust not only stops time to allow Santa to visit 2 billions kids in one night but also allows Santa to deliver the presents even if you don't have a chimney. All mum and dad think about is firstly how are they going to pay for all this stuff, secondly if both kids have exactly the same amount of gifts with each pile being absolutely equal in both cost and weight and thirdly if the 20lb of turkey that would usually feeds 30 people will be enough for the 8 people sitting down for lunch on Christmas day. For those in-between the break is an excuse not to work for nearly a week and the only time they use advanced mathematics all year. They have to carefully calculate exactly now many Jagerbombs they can consume allowing for a kebab chaser and maybe even a bottle of very cheap champagne substitute and still be able to make it to boxing day lunch without emptying the contents of their stomachs into uncle Barry's brussel sprouts.
This year I've experienced a couple of small events that have lead me to stick two fingers up at middle aged boredom and flash my buttocks at those who think that life is all about working hard and putting away something for a rainy day. Now these weren't moments of great joy or some kind of religious epiphany but just little moments in my week that made me smile, feel good for a few minutes and gave me a warm glow. The first was the best made of a bad situation.
Picture this, Tuesday evening, it's raining, not hard, but a constant drizzle that forces you to keep switching the wipers from on to that delayed thing that either leaves a horrible dirty streak that needs constant washing or makes that wretched scrapping noise. The M25 is crap as usual and as you enter the road works you hear on the radio that the road is blocked at your junction. Taking this bad news in your stride and rather than shouting at the lorry in front you you do something positive and text the radio station to let them know it's got worse and you are in fact stationary and have been for the last 15 minutes. Now you are happy that you've shared your pain and that would be enough, but imagine how you would feel if the lady on the traffic report actually reads out your text and tells you that you, yes just you, that the accident has been cleared and that you and only you will be home in time for your tea. I smiled like the proverbial Cheshire cat and I carried that joy all the way home. Now I know it's a little sad and almost no one knew other than me, but it was a moment of childish giddiness. I was on the radio.
My second moment was even more touching in a completely insignificant way, but it made me feel great. A different day, a different road, no road works and no break lights, but an average drive home. I'd left work a little early, the snow was coming again and as Michael McIntyre said I didn't want to get snowed "out". It was not completely dark, but it was getting that way. Everywhere was covered in snow, the fields were covered in a fair dusting and the street lights reflected off the whiteness to give that strange semi dark effect. The roads were passable but way too dangerous for school run mums in their massive 4x4s, so there were only a few cars on this stretch of road. Then on the other side of the road my attention was grabbed by a bright red lorry with it's main beam piercing the gloom. As it came close I realised it was a Coca Cola lorry, but not any old delivery lorry, but the American style Mac tractor unit with a large bright red trailer on the back, bedecked in lights on all sides and with a massive picture of Father Christmas on the side. It was the lorry from the adverts, from the tele all those years and it was here and it was magical.
It was the bollocks and it instantly turned Monday into Christmas eve.
So when you are feeling a touch on the old side, when you feel that your life has passed you by just find any reason to enjoy yourself. Children smile five times as much as adults because they are having more fun. Take some time to roll back the clock and do something for shits and giggles, not because you have to or need to just do it for the pleasure of being able to smile. Come on people all the crap we get wrapped up in is exactly that, crap. You live this life just once, it's about the journey not the destination and you might as well smile all the way there.
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