Find out more about Bobostar at it the festive season looming menacingly ahead, I find myself having to come to terms with the fact that very soon, the only thing we will read and hear about will be Christmas-related, and what an arduous task that will be, at least for me. I do, however, find solace in the hope that there are others who, like me, can’t wait to take the Christmas tree down, or actually do not put it up at all. One of the first signs that Christmas is approaching is obviously the decorations, or should I sayeye-soresthat we are faced with as early as a month before. I’m not referring to the basic, boringChristmasadornments on roundabouts around the island that have as much Christmas in them as a Pina Colada.

What I’m alluding to is the tacky, threadbare Father Christmas hanging from balconies all over the island. Besides being shabby from years of hanging in fumes and rain year after year, there is absolutely nothing festive about them. On the contrary. I find them quite depressing and if I had to have witnessed them as a child. I think my childhood Christmases would have been marred by the thought that poor Santa is being left out in the cold (and that he might perish before delivering my gifts!). If any child is perturbed by this sight I suppose the best reasoning would be that Santa is fine and the only reason he is climbing into the balcony so many weeks before Christmas, is to get away from the dreadful carols blaring all day long.

I mean who can blame the poor chap for wanting to escape the cacophony of carols emanating from speakers that must have been passed down from the eighties? I’m sure our grandparentsgramophones would do a better job. You can ignore the decorations and try to tune out the music but there’s one thing you definitely cannot dodge… the tiresome cheerfulness. Yes, I suppose “tis the season to be jolly” and all that but no need to impose your unnerving joy on others who might not be feeling it this year (or ever for that matter). There are some people I like to refer to as the Christmas Clapper Clan who seem to think that their happiness needs to be passed on to others and that it is contagious and brings cheer to all but, on the contrary, I find this over-enthusiastic exhilaration intimidating and very annoying. Put that energy into greeting your husband when he comes home from work but please, enough with all the hugs, kisses and greetings of goodwill; it is just way over the top.



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