The Most Unfundable Time of the Year.


This time of year's tough when you’re on a low income as every shop window and TV advert is pushing the materialistic manifesto, making you feel you should have spent more, or that you’re somehow failing if you’re family doesn’t fit the standard mould.

For years Christmas has felt like a pastime that doesn’t apply to me. This is due to a whole host of reasons and habits that have formed over time and are hard to shake. For one I hate enforced jollity, and social situations practically bring me out in a rash. I also loathe the pressure and expectation the festive season places on you, whether you like it or not; however much you plough your own furrow in life, there’s something about the ITV, greeting-card nature of Christmas that makes you feel you haven't done enough - or your family isn't perfect enough - to make the grade.

I think the problem stems from how ever-present Christmas clichés have become; at best, the saturation wears you down, and at worst it compounds loneliness; even the most independent person can wind up feeling excluded from society when the media spends so much time pushing the over-exaggerated image of the perfect family unit; plenty of us don't have kids, partners or much money, yet the world around us suggests not having them is plain weird.

One thing the advertising onslaught doesn't seem to take into account is loss; so many of us mourn missing friends and relatives at this time of year, yet family tableaus surround us at every angle, reminding us of what we don’t have without tact.

The trick is to not be swept up in all the stuff that’s just for show; I’d much rather invest my energy in being positively motivated all year round than just applying it to the Christmas period; to care should be the norm and not the exception.

Popular posts from this blog

Shakerpuppetmaker.

Image
Have Parker from Thunderbirds and Noel Gallagher ever been seen in the same room? The resemblance is uncanny. So much so, I think something’s afoot. If my suspicions are correct, I've stumbled across a secret that will blow the music and puppet industry wide apart. In the mid-60s / mid-90s at least. It doesn’t take long to see the signposts. There’s the similarity between the name of Oasis’ first single, Supersonic, and Supermarianation, Gerry Anderson’s puppetry technique. The Gallagher brothers would often wear Parkas . Live Forever was clearly a reference to Captain Scarlet and Standing on the Shoulder of Giants to the size difference between Noel and his bandmates. The more you think about it, the more brazen it gets. It’s fishier than Area 51, Paul is Dead and JFK's assassination put together. The only glitch to the theory is scale . According to Wikipedia, Anderson’s marionettes were 1’10” and Gallagher is 5’8”. How does he maintain an illusion of avera...
Read more

Stevenage: A (Tiny) River Runs Through it.

If ever a river was mis-sold, it’s the Roaring Meg in Stevenage. I just walked past it on my way to the retail park that has taken its name. They’re similarly uninspiring. The river is less of a roar and more of a dribble; cystitis sufferers produce greater flow. The retail park is soulless. What was once a thriving enterprise is nearly devoid of atmosphere, save an underlying essence of emptiness and despair. With a Toys R Us. When it was first built I was excited. Back then, the thought of a bowling alley, an ice rink, a Harvester and a Blockbuster Video within a small surface area was enticing. I celebrated many birthdays on site. There was an indoor cricket pitch there for a while where I once had a joint party with a friend. Why someone with an almost pathological fear of sport would agree to such a venture is beyond me, but I did it. Now, there’s very little at the Roaring Meg of note. The river would be a metaphor for the shopping ce...
Read more

Hoo-ray and up She Rises.

So much has happened since my last post in March that this blog risks sounding like an itinerary. The main news is that Hitchin Mostly Comedy will return in the summer at a new venue, the Queen Mother Theatre . The road to this decision was convoluted, though enough fell into place en route to leave me optimistic about this new start. The catalyst was a survey I ran via our mailing list a few months back, in which I asked, "If the club returned in the current climate, with tickets still around £15 (and with similar line-ups), would you still attend?"; the response to which, in simple terms, was a resounding yes. Nearly 250 mailing list subscribers responded in a single week, with around a hundred also taking the option to leave some feedback. And only two people were abusive, which counts as a win when you consider they posted their comments online anonymously. Imagine how many more insults we would have received if the comedy club was a woman. Particularly if she was Diane ...
Read more