Carol Singers
There’s Christmas and then there’s Christmas. Do not confuse the two.
Firstly, there is the Christmas for children. It’s the Christmas from your childhood, the excitement, the fantasy, the magic and the delight. It’s also the Christmas that the parents of young children enjoy. You get a second chance for the magic of Christmas to shine, through looking at your children. Of course, parts of it you have to pay for this time, but some of it is still free. Last year we went to a nativity play, on a farm, in a barn with donkeys and everything.
And then there is the adult Christmas. Consumerism, the shopping, the tack, the crap Christmas versions of popular TV programs, Christmas songs (with a few exceptions; Fairy Tale of New York being one), and the carol singers.
Tonight I made the mistake and answered the knock on my front door. I was confronted by three young men, singing half a verse of some tuneless carol song that I couldn’t even recognise. I assumed they wanted some sort of monetary recompense for their efforts. I paid them some money because I am craven. Because three years ago, I laughed in the face of similar looking young men attempting to sing on my doorstep and shut the door on the without giving them a penny. I realised later that they didn’t take too kindly to my reaction and throw a milk bottle at my window. Luckily, only the bottle smashed.
It’s worse than Halloween for two reasons. Firstly, Halloween is only one night and you simply just refuse to answer the door for that night only. With carol singers, you can be aurally assaulted any time from December onwards. Secondly, with Halloween, you can simply give then sweets (or in my wife’s case, oranges) safe in the knowledge that they can’t really demand money instead. (You can also ask for a trick, jokingly, but this is a dangerous gambit because they might not have a sense of humour).
I don’t have a problem with organised “who are giving the money to charity and actually we can sing and know quite a few carols” events. We have an organised event down our street every year (I think it is the Rotary club) when the carol singers flank Father Christmas on a sleigh (or trailer as it is sometimes called). They don’t knock on doors, but you hear them coming and take the children out. Santa gives out presents to all the children, optionally in exchange for cash for their charity.
But, blokes with a bit of tinsel round their necks wanting money so they can go down the pub and do some underage drinking, please note, Santa is watching you and he is not pleased. When you complain that he didn’t get you your Playstation 2, I’ll be laughing at you. And you won’t even know, so you can’t come round and throw anything at my windows.
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