[lahst kris-muh s]: Written and produced by George Michael, this song actually has very little to do with Christmas – it’s about a failed relationship. Only the phase “Last Christmas,” when the relationship comes to a head, refers to the festive season. Despite this, it has become an annual Christmas standard, especially in the U.K.
So I heard about this contest the other day how you were “supposed to avoid” this song, and if you could do it you won the game. If this is so, I lost a couple of weeks ago for sure.
I hate this song with a passion. So much so that I want to poke my eyes out with a toothpick in the morning while driving across the city in rush hour traffic.
It comes on the radio at least two times every morning. So much so that my 7 year old is starting to make me turn up the radio so she can sing along with it.
She has been Whamed! and brainwashed.
She is the same with Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You”.
That one she makes me turn the radio up for too.
It is not that I am totally against Christmas, I like the food a lot. I miss the turkey on the table back home and I love the pickled herring of my second and real home here I Sweden.
I do hate how much it costs me. Having a kid is expensive. Legos and Play-Doh, something called a Paint Station are all a lot of money to throw on the table to make the little kid happy.
She has it good. Two parents that are divorced that spoil her.
It is gotten so long that we both dropped 100 dollars for the same Lego Friends hospital at the same time for her.
I am working on Christmas. No let’s edit that. I am working an impossible schedule over Christmas. From the 20th to the 26th I am working everyday. I will not be spending my time with my wife, but instead working in the control room of a high security jail watching people in cameras and looking at YouTube and perhaps writing here to pass the time away.
I will get on my knees to work the elevators to the rest yards so the days go faster. I will beg scream and plead for 16.30 to come after starting at 7 in the morning.
This means while your kids are waking you up at 5 in the morning to look at presents, I will be getting up, downing a caffeine pill and starting me long trudge to work.
One thing that really annoys me is Christmas decorations.
Tree? Not here the cats will attack it.
Lights in the window? Ok one of the kids said it was depressing and my wife found one that sits in the window of the living room, but we only turn it on when we need a light in here that is not like an interrogation lamp. (So you see that we have replaced it with our bedside lamp for a temporary solution)
My child does she decorate? No. She wants to take all of her Christmas stuff to my ex. Feel sorry for me. No Christmas cards in children’s handwriting with a picture that I can save and show her later.
The only thing I got was a shopping list when we were going to run errands where she wanted her own “big girl” chair for the kitchen table. She managed to write that she wanted a melon, chair, Lego’s, Play-Doh and Super Mario (which I opened for myself and she has lost interest in) (In another side I am really bad at Mario it seems and keep on losing at one level all the time).
So now my mission the last few hours I have her before Christmas (she is going to my ex tomorrow) is to convince her that Santa Claus exists it is just grown ups that help him deliver the presents because he sleeps during the day because he is tired of running around all over the world in one night.
She is not buying it by the way so mission failed.
So what else makes me crazy? Watching the same cartoons at 3 in the afternoon with racist (from like the 1950’s or 1930’s or whatever) that build toys that are “mammy dolls” and people from Asia that look like they came from Tin Tin.
Or even my classic is the annual Christmas TV show where it is left propaganda but folk do not understand it. It is tradition. Fine. I just never understand it. It is a culture thing I guess?
So this is MY Christmas. Just like the last Christmas, except then I had the Flu and a fever and had to call in sick (which I am sure they did not believe me, but I really was sick) You try making your wife her first Turkey with a 100 plus fever. It was fun. I wanted to poke my eyes out doing that too when I was feeling so bad.
So my Christmas this year I will be looking at you and a bunch of incarcerated prisoners who feel absolutely miserable.
A sudden silence falls all over the jail. Even they know that Christmas is boring even more boring there on that day.
I get to watch over them all like God. Except I have no power, just an alarm clock that rings at 5 in the morning, that stupid Wham! song on the radio on the way to work, and my eyes on the clock longing to go home.