CHRISTMAS EVE - BEAUTY AND CONSUMERISM ABOUNDS

          Well -  it's that time of year again - the big, bearded, ho-ho-ho guy in the sky with a huge bag of goodies arriving in a sleigh  that's pulled by eight tiny red deer and of course Rudolph with a red light-bulb for a nose to lead the way.  Ah, the joys of consumerism - a merchant's dream but for many people; a night mare.  I believe we can thank Coca-Cola for the big Santa Claus gimmicky kick-off.  I'm not a bah, hum-bug sort of guy - I spend money on gifts like most anyone else but I do try to keep it realistically viable, that is to say, I don't go into debt; simply buy what I can afford.  I hate to say it but I do believe my generation was the beginning of overspending and giving kids just about anything they desired and the way the Santa Claus tradition has carried on thus far, it has gotten beyond everyone's control and now borders on the ridiculous.
          A couple of Christmases ago, when my grandson Charlie was only two, and I've seen this with other children as well; he received lots of gifts; colourful, noisy, expensive gifts but the one he was most interested in was my empty beer case - he played with it the most.  Actually, if you want to give a toddler the perfect gift, what is considered to be the No. 1 gift - give him or her a stick - I wouldn't be surprised if a rock is No. 2.
          Christmas is sort of bitter-sweet for me, not because of the Hollywood, media-hyped influence but because my father died Christmas day back in 1969, the year I married my first wife, Doreen.  I can't say that I'm really unhappy on this day, just usually take a quiet moment by myself and say, "Merry Christmas Dad, wish you were here."  Funny, when you think about it though, the person that's really responsible for this day is actually more like a bit player in a Santa Claus movie.  Jesus Christ must roll over in His grave every time they bring out another Santa Claus movie or when He sees how much most of the people idolize some fat guy with a twinkle in his eye that promises gifts and seldom delivers - being naughty or nice has nothing to do with it.
          Christmas eve today, and from the looks of it, we'll be having a white Christmas.  It's -17 below, the sun is shining and the landscape is picturesque; white, sparkly snow covering most everything - making it ideal for a fat man to land with a bag of goodies on a rooftop - most likely burn his ass off though if he comes down our chimney and lands in the air-tight wood stove.  I still haven't been able to convince our younger daughter (10) Jessica that she should leave Santa a cold beer and a slab of pepperoni - it's always cookies and milk, which I'm not terribly fond of eating or drinking.   We're having a quiet Christmas, just my wife Sarah and her two girls and possibly a couple of neighbours for turkey dinner.  Not sure if we'll have all the trimmings but I expect my belly will be as round as Santa's when I've finished munching the meat off the drumstick, chomping on a chunk of homemade Christmas cake, nibbling on sweet chocolates and sucking back a few Fireball (cinnamon flavoured whiskey) creamy hot chocolates.  I can't help but think how lucky I am to be born and live in such a great place, especially when I see that the majority of people on this planet live in complete and utter poverty.  I sit here now in my own little studio, a cold beer within reach, Finnegan the cat snoozing on my lap and just writing away on the computer, saying whatever the hell I feel like - no real life threatening cares or worries, just mellow and warm with visions of sugar-plums dancing in my head.

         I'm not much like Santa when "he sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle".  No, but as I leave this computer not like "the down of a thistle, "  I will "exclaim, 'ere" I walk out the door, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"  - Cheers, eh!