Believer or Humbug?
Disclaimer – if you are below the age of ‘I don’t know’, then don’t read on, as this might cause some upset, break a belief, cast assertions of horror into a dream, who knows – however if you are of a sensitive nature – DON’T READ!!
You are not still here are you? If so, then l tried to warn you, and if there are floods of tears, all l can say is sorry but shit happens! You have till the end of this song to depart this page!!
Believer or Humbug?
This evening whilst walking Scrappy and the Imps, we were all involved in a deep discussion concerning the coming events otherwise known as Christmas or Happy Holidays if you prefer and debating the existence of the big guy.
The Imps well, they are not Elf’s and so they have a very different opinion of these things and if you can forgive the fact that every second word is a profanity then you can hold a somewhat decent conversation with them.
It was an awkward walk around the village, Scrappy and l can normally do it in good time, well if you can accept the fact that as Scrappy has aged she now needs to smell each scent like it’s a rare bottle of wine, and therefore what used to take 25 minutes can now take upwards of 45 minutes whilst she savours the delights of another’s wee load! However this time with the Imps who are visiting after an absence of some years and decided that an Imp Pop In was warranted, it took even longer whilst they examined each of the houses and graded the external decorations and it’s not that they are anti-Christmas , they just don’t like it that much, l mean you can’t dislike what gives you pleasure, so for them, this season is a sort of love hate.
The reason they dislike it has something to do with them as a group being oiked out from a young age from the Elf Society, l don’t ask, as that kind of discussion becomes heated. I assure you angry Imps is not something you need on your hands, so certain subjects we leave be. However they like it because usually they can cause havoc and mayhem with people over the period. They have some Cornish Pixies as cousins so for them, you are either straight out Norty or Nonsense, but never Nonsensical!
Well anyway, whilst we were all debating the quality or lack of taste in certain house external decor, we struck this …. sorry what? Oh right, okay let me explain.
The imps love, adore tacky Christmas decoration, you know gardens that are filled to the brim with colours, and other monstrosities such as dancing Santas, reindeer and bouncy snowmen. They like to see at least 1000 lights on the outside of a house! The more tacky it looks the more they love it, because the more mischief they can get up to. With a colourfully abundant garden they can create more damage and it will mostly be put down to natural error. That’s what they mean.
However we got onto the subject of Believers versus Humbugs and what was my position on the subject? Now this is a somewhat touchy subject for me, as l am oft referred to as a Humbug. My believing days are far behind me. I see Christmas an excuse for commercial consumerism and the true story behind the time of giving has now been replaced with a false viewpoint. That Christmas is really for children, and even then that is a falsehood. It’s about money and taking from the givers.
Now for those beliefs l am permanently on their Norty List in their eyes, and l am a true humbug but a good Guv!! But Gimp, as in Pimp’s Brother wanted to know when l stopped believing in the big guy?
Sadly, for me, my belief was utterly destroyed when l was eight, in 1972! I tried to believe after that, but it was no good, the truth was out, there was no Santa Claus at all! However l had to for the sake of my Sister according to my parents continue to believe so that her dream wasn’t destroyed. Jenny stopped believing when she was 13.
My Father told me when l discovered him one Christmas Eve poking wrapped presents into a cupboard outside my bedroom. I got up and enquired what on earth he was doing. Well he tried to convince me that he was one of Santa’s elves!! That there was NO WAY Santa could get to every household in one night, and so he had to enlist the help of parents internationally to help him distribute!
Well even at that age, l wasn’t completely convinced and was about to question him further when my Mother arrived on the scene and came up with a much more improved version of his story and l actually believed her and so went to bed that night firmly under the impression that my parents were really very special people, and that parents around the world were very lucky that they could assist Santa in such a special way.
The next day, Christmas Day my Sister and l came flying out of our bedrooms and launched upon the tree with fervour! Santa had been very good to me, and there was the Cowboy Fort l had so wanted. It was awesome, l had cowboys and Indians and the fort was just everything l had wanted it to be. It had a gate to keep the baddies out, turret watch towers and a little lock up prison!
However later on that day, whilst playing with my fort, l went to lock up some baddies into the prison when l spotted a slip of paper inside the space, neatly folded up. When l opened it up, the note said….
“Christmas doesn’t exist Rory! It’s all a huge lie!! Use common sense boy – however, please keep the secret safe from your sister!
I had suspected that in truth from the previous night’s discussion with my Father, however ever since that date, l am quite possibly more of a humbug than a believer. What about you, which are you? Humbug – if so, why?
Well anyway, l have to go and feed the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy! Thank goodness, some things are still real eh?