Daft Old Duffer returns. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
Christmas used to be special; a bright shining star in the middle of long grey winters. Winters of freezing fogs and rain, of draught-ridden homes warmed only by one smoky fire and, if we were lucky, a hot water bottle slid between icy sheets.
It was a two-day break, no more than that. Christmas Eve was a normal working day, even if not much got done after dinner, and the day following Boxing Day was the usual up before dawn, shivering bike ride to just another day of many until the next break, which was summer week. Over half a year away.
Two times two equals four
How marvellous it was when Christmas tagged onto a weekend, giving us the illusion of a four day holiday instead of two. Or when Boxing Day clashed with Sunday, entitling us to a Monday morning in bed to make up.
Then, in the bleak days after WW2, the unions began to flex their muscle. What was the point, they argued, of workers clocking in and switching on the machinery on Monday when Christmas Day occurred on Tuesday? After all, let’s be frank, not a lot of output was going to happen, was it?
And so, by one means or another, the Christmas break began to stretch out. Which was very nice, but it also began to erode the specialness of the Holy Day.
No need to close
Next, lots of hard working folk arrived from places like India, taking over our local supermarkets and seeing no reason to close in honour of some Christian festival or other. Especially as the Christians themselves appeared to regard the occasions as an excuse for over spending, over eating and over drinking.
So the ritual of the massive pre-holiday shopping became unnecessary – even though some cling desperately to it to this day.
Once a luxury, now everyday
But the final death blow perhaps was struck – is still being struck – by the big supermarkets. Not only do they remain open at previously unheard of times, they routinely offer us goods previously considered a once a year luxury.
I can quite clearly recall my parents discussing whether to order a turkey or a chicken for Christmas. Both were equally a luxury, the only difference between them being price and size.
Nowadays of course, chickens are an everyday item. And turkey would be too, if we actually enjoyed it as much.
While fruits and nuts, exotic beyond anything we were aware of back then, are now an everyday offering.
The exchange of gifts
There remains the exchange of gifts of course. Yet even here the reason has been eroded. Presents were once the giving of items considered too indulgent for the recipient to buy him or herself.
Now it is necessary to include the receipt so the receiver can swap for something really desired.If any such remains.
While in the case of little Johnny or Miranda, it’s a matter of trying to find something the spoiled little so and so hasn’t already got. Something he or she won’t throw aside the minute the wrapping paper is off.
Thus Christmas has subsided into something resembling another Easter.A nice break of routine perhaps,but no- one really knows why. Or cares
Something to do with Our Saviour wasn’t it?
