Tuesday, 14 December 2010

The pub can't even handle me right now

I love doing Christmas quizzes with my classes in school.

Although the entire cohort of my children are fully ensconced with the notion that Santa does not come down their chimney with his magic key, they are happy to play along with the remaining 59, 000, 970 of the population of the UK and throw themselves right into the party spirit.

The sheer magnitude of the yuletide season for me starts to throng around the 12th of December.

The usual garb of songs are bleating their way through the smooth, signal and heart FMs and through the sound system of many a boots, argos and clinton cards.

My best friend and I had an almost 2 hour conversation en route from London to the North West about which was our favourite of the Christmas songs and why.

We came to many conclusions.

People who write Christmas songs are married to women who get very excited by September and the royalties.

Christmas songs cannot be written anymore.

The only good Christmas song to come out of this decade has been Christmas Time (Don't let the bells end) by The Darkness.

People are forgiving when listening to Christmas songs.

If you listen to Shakin Stevens, Merry Christmas Everyone and you are standing opposite someone. You will eventually start dancing by moving forwards and backwards simultaneously. FACT.

What startled me was that for all the eons ago that some of these songs were created, my children in my class were not even born and neither were some of their parents. Yet when it came to my annual festive fun quiz. All of them knew who Noddy Holder was.
I even had a couple of little impressions thrown in the mix "miss it's him who screams ITZZZZZ CRISSSSSSMEEEEESSSSSSSSS"

Yep. The very one.

It would appear that for young people today, Christmas has a formula.

The weather.

Must be cold.

The trees.

Must be put up by December 1st.

The calendar.

Must have chocolate.

The presents.

Must have an i in front of them.

For teenagers and children today. The Christmas songs are now just part of their magic Christmas formula.

It just made me think how such modern day classics such as the Wesley brothers, Hark the Herald has now been ruined by Mariah, Destiny's Childs 12 days of Xmas and Christina Aguilera warbling her way through some carols.

I must admit. I dislike very few Christmas songs.

The one that does make me feel a bit green around the chops is a spaceman came travelling by Chris de Burgh. Not content with monopolising the commercial season of love with his smoochy slicked back, dry ice oozing classic lady in red. He created a rather unusual narrative documenting the travels of a UFO.

The video impales you with fluorescent green strobes and lots of mountain scenery. The flash photography warning has been omitted. Visions of heathcliff tearing wildly through the Yorkshire moors. And then you are smacked right in the ruud gullit with the la's.

And it went la la la la la la laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

If I were a gambling man. I suspect old CDB was veering towards the metaphor inside the music.

"twas light years since time his mission did start, and over a village he halted his craft"

Sorry Chris. Stick to the mothers day album fanfare.


Whilst I continue to pump out the yuletide merriment and fun in school time, I take time to also reflect on some of our unsung heroes of the sleigh time sing brigade.

Step forward, Harvey, Mortimer, Hendy and Coldwell. That's the lads from E-17 to you.

Yes siree. Stay another day is my guilty pleasure.

Although when I hear the crackled tones of the lads, I am also reminded of Mr Brian Harvey and his bizarre car accident in which he managed to run himself over...in ironically the East 17 district.

Reports from cockney reuters that day say "I’d been stuffing my face with jacket potatoes,’ said Brian Harvey. ‘They were big. I put cheese on, then tuna mayonnaise and I ate the lot.’

Not alrite.

Well folks.

It's been too damn long and I will be back with a Val Doonican spesh this week bringing you some more tales from the Christmas Crypt.

See you tomorrow door 15.

1 comment:

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