Christmas excess

As always, big build up and then it's all over and done with.  No it's not what you think, I'm talking about Christmas.

Bearing in mind my son Oscar has his birthday just 12 days before Christmas, the volume of prezzies he receives is suddenly huge.  The lounge and living room is groaning with different types of cars, lorries, car transporters, car parks, books, teddies....you name it....we could start a toy shop with all this variety.  Grateful to all that have been generous with gifts for his birthday and Christmas, but we now need a bigger house to accommodate the sheer volume.

Christmas day was spent with my wife Jo and her family at her sisters' place.  There was a slight hiccup of the oven failing at the most crucial point...when the turkey was in.  So mother-in-law to the rescue, and with a short drive to her place, she finished off the cooking in her oven.  A delightful Christmas dinner ensued, with the table replete with festive goodies.

I'm sure this kind of arrangement happens up and down the land, especially when there are two sides of the family to consider - repeat performance on Boxing Day, with an equally lovely Christmas dinner with my family this time.  End result - indigestion tablets to ease the pain of gluttony.

Oscar with his two nephews Josh and Dan...and after a hard day's playing with my sister Nessa.

Ho Ho Ho

On Wednesday me, Jo and my son Oscar went into town to visit Santa and yes, another photo opportunity...

Santa's enthusiasm was as usual zealous and full of ho-ho-ho's.  Oscar was a little shy at first with this new experience.  Who is this stranger with a long flowing beard bearing gifts?  And why is he saying ho-ho-ho all the time?  But he quickly warmed to his kindess and happily told Santa that all he wanted for Christmas was a car.

The one and striking characteristic I noticed about Santa was that, this year, unlike ones before, he looked skinnier.  Ageless, but skinnier.  You see, even Santa isn't immune to the economic downturn.  Even the omnipresent has to be thrifty sometimes.  Oh Santa, we need that belly back.

Back in time

It was time to travel once again.  This time to Scarborough.  I town I'd never visited before, but with anticipation and a feeling of excitement, for it was another chance for me and other radio "nerds" to gather and mull over the state of the radio industry, share stories, and drink and eat until we collapse.

The hotel in the brochure looked quite desirable, but upon further inspection, quickly resembled a shabby, unkempt, unloved ramshackle of an ex-Butlins hotel that hadn't seen a lick of paint in many generations.  It reminded me of the Inbetweeners movie where the teenage idiots arrive at their so-called hotel to discover a dead dog being pulled from the well by the hotel manager...."this isn't what it looks like in the brochure", they cried.

The hotel clientele were mostly elderly, and in the lounge area, it looked like God's waiting room with a plethora of hair pieces and dentures.  While I was happily drinking and talking to other nerds, I noticed an elderly woman scouring at me, with a constant look of disapproval on her face, as if I was uttering the most obscene language.  I think that was just her normal facial expression.

The single room I booked was the cheapest, yet had spectacular sea views of Scarborough beach.  Friends had spent double the amount I did, only to occupy a basement room with no windows and no view - where's the logic there then.

After having spent very little time sleeping in my hotel bed, I crawled down to the breakfast area to be greeted by a sea of blue rinses, miserable faces and a strong smell of burnt toast in the air.  YEP, it was time to eat a budget DIY breakfast out of a trough.  Before I could sit down, an unfriendly member of staff abruptly asked me "Have you got your ticket?"....."um, no, I left it in my room"....."Well, how am I supposed to know you're a paying customer.  You should have your ticket with you at all times!"  Grunt, Grunt.  Trying to be smart, I replied "Surely, my hotel door key is enough to tell you I'm a paying customer?".   I feel I'm becoming cantankerous in my old age.