Monday 3rd December

Well it is now December, and one must I suppose try to feel Christmassy.  On Thursday I passed through the West End and all the Christmas Lights were up, but somehow they seem more and more like adverts than a celebration of Christmas – there was even a mention of Marmite, the least Christmassy food item I can think of.  And the Christmas decorations at Walton just look more and more tawdry each year, at least Mr. Bartall’s (the shop where you can literally  buy anything – one is rarely disappointed) had a fine display of Christmas lights he was selling.  I have done almost all of my Christmas shopping already, because it always seems that December is one of the busiest months; the restaurants are at last busy after a pretty quiet year, and most have their year-end coming up at the end of the month.  Then there is the distribution of the presents, which despite my not having a car, I seem to end up being largely responsible for organizing.  But none of this, or the writing of the Christmas cards, which I accomplished on Friday have seemed to make me feel remotely Christmassy.

On the drive home today we stopped, as usual for Diesel and Coffee and my partner couldn’t resist picking up a Christmas CD by Michael Buble.  He isn’t one of my favourites and I own no records of his, but he has, I must admit, a pleasant voice, and I have quite enjoyed his live TV shows.  So, at last a chance to start feeling Christmassy, and yes, looking on the cover were lots of well-known Christmas songs ‘Here come Santa Claus’, ‘Jingle Bells’, and ‘Silent Night’ to name but a few.  Slipping the CD in we sat back to enjoy….oh no, jazzy souped-up renditions of what we had hoped would be songs we could sing along to.  Why do they do it?  Firstly, why even bother in the first place – except a lazy way to make a lot of money (even Bob Dylan has disgraced himself with a Christmas Album), but even worse – why mess up the arrangements so much.  These are timeless classics, and timeless they should remain.  There was no way we could sing along, even to the choruses, and sat there, disappointed and even less Christmassy than before.