I hate Christmas. Maybe hate is too strong a word but I don’t like it anywhere near as much as I used to when I was young, although I bet most people feel the same. Christmas as a child is exciting; presents you actually enjoy playing with; not socks and slippers. What is the preoccupation with foot presents when you get over a certain age? Even worse is those people who buy you soap, deodorants and perfume. What are these people trying to tell me?
Thinking back to when I was young I can remember the train sets, the scalextric – the presents which kept you occupied for months after you received them. I remember the year I got subbuteo and because just about everyone else in school also received the mini-football game by January we had started a league up.
When I got bigger the toys grew proportionately with me. I remember receiving my first record player, my first cassette tape recorder. Both these things were life changing. I discovered my love of music. I started buying albums, which I would later buy on cassette when records started to fade. Then when CDs came our guess who was first in the queue to purchase the same music all over again. Those record companies really knew how to stick it to us kids. Even today they are selling the same music from the 1970s but this time in MP3 format.
I can remember getting my first bike… and my second one. The journeys I went one with friends. In no time I was off to places that were beyond reach prior to getting my own “transport”. Then again, as I got older, getting my first serious racing bike and going either further afield.
The world was my oyster.
Now, alas, the presents I receive shave the greying stubble from my chin. They wash the grime from my aging body or make me smell more pleasant to others. Where is the fun in this?
Things where just more fun when I was younger!
Why do we have to grow up?