Eligible for parole come Valentine’s day.

This whole “four-month-Christmas” bollocks is seriously pissing me off. Yes, this is a “things were better in my day” post. But they were… Halloween was a non-event, we were all too busy collecting wood for our bonfires. We were too busy making a Guy Fawkes and sitting it outside the local pub so we get the piss-cans (drunken gentlemen) to give us a penny for the Guy, then we could use that cash to buy some fireworks. Halloween was an American thing, we didn’t get it.

Next was Remembrance Sunday. If you were in the Boys brigade, or the cadets, then you marched on remembrance Sunday, stood at the cenotaph, put your poppy on the leaf sodden ground, bowed your head and remembered, looked at the old soldiers and wondered what they’d seen. Then, around the same time, there was the Royal Festival of Remembrance.

After that, the odd TV ad for Cointreau and Milk Tray started, maybe a new Campari ad with Lorraine Chase. What we didn’t get were Christmas decorations, they didn’t start till well into December, and in our house, the week before Christmas. The shops started to get a bit Christmassy a couple of weeks before, just as we were getting ready to finish school for two weeks.

This restraint made it special, its not special when Morrison’s have a fucking tree up in September. A third of the year is now given over to buying stuff for one fucking day. It’s preposterous, it’s unnecessary, and it’s fucking annoying.

I know modern life is amazing, but some traditions are worth keeping… can we go back please?

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