So here we are again. Mid December and that time of year when Western civilisations most garish festival of tat is fast approaching its tinsel induced climax. Don’t get me wrong, there’s an awful lot that I do like about this time of year, but that’s not what I’m here for is it?
Last Christmas I was forced to watch British televisions most inexplicably popular program, the ridiculous and insulting to human kind “Mrs Brown’s Boys”. For the first twenty minutes I managed to politely sit and flick through one of the many recipe books I had received whlst my family were laughing out loud at the “jokes”. This was all to similar to watching children laugh upon hearing new and exciting swear words or talking about poo. The characters were sort of meant to be thick and poor in a way that made people say really, really stupid shit like “Oooh, It’s funny ‘cos it’s real”, when it’s not. More to the point, shellsuits are wrong, nobody wears rollers in their hair all day anymore and why are so many people so chuffed about being thick and poor?
It was as if a five year old had written the script and eventually I blurted this out loud, using words that were way less polite. I did not wish to insult anybody, but I can suppose that I was merely reacting against the insult I felt had been inflicted upon myself when it was assumed that I would find something likened to a nursery rhyme played out over half an hour by bad actors funny. My sister then chose to declare that the problem was simply that I did not like anything and that she and the rest of the family were the fortunate party in their liking of things. She did not say it like that though, she kind of dribbled and went “God, like, just cos we like, like stuff and you, like, don’t”. She, I remind myself internally, is a thirty two year old who has never really been anywhere, by which I mean not a single concert, gig, comedy event, spontaneous anything, basically anything that is not a package holiday or pre planned night out because it is somebody’s milestone birthday. She has a book shelf in her lounge that has three out-dated Yellow Pages on it and nothing else. She puts her Christmas tree up on November 1st because that is the only time of year when there is ever any colour or decoration in her home. I am also pretty sure that the only music she ever listens to is Christmas music, which further explains the haste to get the tree up…I bet her very soul is just desperate for some sensory input after the whole January to October cultural vacuum. I thought about hitting back, but she would have totally ignored me and carried on playing Candy Crush Saga on Facebook with her phone.