Baldyman

It’s that time of year once more when mince pies are back on supermarket shelves (they’ve been there since September), Noddy Holder’s bank account receives a significant boost (£500K – £1M a year in royalties) and we all contemplate the dilemma of whether or not to buy a Lynx gift set for a relative that we’ve not seen or even thought about for 12 months (if you do decide to, send a clear message as to how important they are to you by downgrading them from Voodoo to Africa). Hilarious novelty jumpers (“I only get my baubles out once a year” / “I’m sexy and I snow it”) are located at the bottom of wardrobes, cranberry sauce is added to shopping lists despite nobody liking it (isn’t it just jam?) and dads everywhere prepare to make their annual visit to the place only men are allowed to go (to avoid any confusion this is a reference to the loft and not Stringfellows after the office Christmas party.)

Arctic weather has recently descended on the UK, bringing pavements that even Torvill & Dean would struggle on and the realisation that a Tesco club card not only saves 50p on a meal deal, but is also a decent understudy for the windscreen ice scraper that’s gone AWOL the first time it’s actually been needed. The country is also in the midst of a wave of industrial action to the point where we’ve had more strikes than that friend who suggests you go ten pin bowling and then turns up with his own shoes and ball. They cover a variety of organisations and occupations but as long as you don’t intend on travelling by train, bus or plane, getting seriously ill or at any point needing an ambulance, your baggage handled, your passport checked, your driving test or to receive anything by post in the next month then you should be pretty much unaffected.

The festive period is one where rules, and seemingly common sense, go out of the window and for some inexplicable reason we start to believe that;

1. Perfectly good red wine should be simmered in a saucepan because visitors to our home would much prefer it was served to them at the same temperature as a cup of tea.
2. Turkey, which for twelve months has been behind even fish fingers in the pecking order and that you have the least experience of cooking correctly, is the perfect choice as the centre piece meat for the most anticipated meal of the year.
3. The best condiment to compliment the sumptuous festive feast you have spent hours creating is a sauce whose primary ingredient is liquidised moist bread.
4. It’s a good idea to create a fire hazard in the family home by erecting a fake tree made from highly flammable materials in your lounge and covering it in a multitude of miniature, molten hot light bulbs that have not undergone any safety checks since their purchase in the late 1990s. In the event of a fire breaking out, sufficient measures have been taken to prevent its spread by placing piles of cardboard boxes covered in paper at the base of the tree.

As Christmas approaches, thoughts naturally start to turn to what presents we can buy for our nearest and dearest. Traditionally, and mainly due to the lack of imagination and creativity possessed by the majority of men, wives and girlfriends will start dropping gift hints for a number of weeks prior to the big day. These can take many different forms including;

• Mentioning things in conversations (despite some fortunately timed nodding, we are rarely listening properly.)
• Pointing things out in shop windows (despite appearing to look directly at the item, we are rarely paying full attention.)
• Leaving magazines open on specific pages around the house (along with discarded shoes, nail varnish bottles and long since half-finished cups of tea, these will just be confused with mess and cleared up without receiving the level of attention that was intended for them.)
• Sending phone messages with a direct internet link to the desired item attached (while this has the highest probability of success, there is a possibility it could remain unopened or forgotten, especially if a subsequent message about Fantasy Football is received from Dave from work, as this is likely to be given a far higher priority.)

An old work mate of mine had a somewhat chequered history when it came to buying Christmas presents for his wife, which included a hat trick that not even Sir Geoff Hurst or Kylian Mbappe could replicate. The first year when she told him, “I’d like nothing more than a diamond necklace” he went along with her preference and got her nothing and for the second year he decided on a romantic bombardment in the shape of an ironing board and weighing scales twinset. When it came to the third year and she asked him to surprise her, he duly obliged by ringing her up on Christmas Day from a brothel in Thailand.

There is also the yuletide minefield of being informed of the decision that, “I don’t think we should get each other any presents this year.” Now this has never been suggested by a man (there have been none born either brave or stupid enough) and is a scenario most commonly occurring in an established relationship where the fun, excitement and desire has long since been replaced with tiresome routine. While on the outside it may appear a quite straightforward statement whose message is easy to interpret, it is in fact part of a female only code that not even the top agents at M16 have yet been able to crack. What “I don’t think we should get each other any presents this year” actually means is “I don’t think we should get each other any presents this year but it is Christmas so I fully expect you to get me at least some presents despite using wording that would seem to indicate the contrary.”

Many men throughout history have fallen foul to this booby-trap and a scenario which can result in;

• AT BEST: Twelve months of being constantly reminded of your error until you get a chance to redeem yourself with an overly expensive gift the next Christmas.
• AT WORST: A ‘mistake grenade’ that can be indiscriminately  launched in your direction in the very unlikely event that at any future point in the relationship you find yourself with the upper hand in any argument.

Husbands and boyfriends are happy just to be involved in the festivities and are more than grateful to receive whatever  presents might come their way (character socks, sound effect bottle openers, novelty aprons, ‘Beers of the World’ selection pack). For this reason, they generally don’t feel the need to plant any ideas of their gift preferences in advance. There is the danger however that a totally off-the-cuff comment or action, with absolutely no meaning attached, could be misconceived by your partner as the declaration of a present -worthy new passion or hobby. One minute you’re innocently pointing out what seems to be a rare breed of bird in your back garden and the next  you find yourself in the middle of a farmer’s field wearing an oversized leather glove on a ‘Hawks & Eagles Birds of Prey Weekend’ swinging a slab of raw meat around your head on a piece of string.

My youngest son is now eleven and has recently started High School so the festive fantasy of Santa and Elf on a Shelf sadly no longer exists in my house. This also means that after a number of years, Junior School days and everything that comes with them have finally come to an end for us both. No more shorts and Velcro shoes, no more non-competitive sports days with bean bags, hoops and tennis rackets and no more bemusement that Tyrone from 4B has been awarded ‘Star of the Week’ again because he showed ‘great resilience’ by only attacking 3 classmates with scissors over the last 5 days.

The playground drop offs and pickups are therefore also a thing of the past, which at least means I no longer have to experience the charade and phenomenon of the middle aged school mums dressed like background extras from a Beverly Callard keep fit DVD in their head to toe sports gear. Despite at first glance appearing to make an Olympic athlete look under equipped, upon closer inspection it is clear that their top of the range trainers have in fact seen as much recent action as my Babyliss Deluxe 2000 hairdryer. While their spray on lycra leggings and sports bras create the illusion that it is next stop ‘Jazzercise’, this will almost certainly be preceded by a large full fat Latte and giant slice of coffee cake as part of what is a more than deserved and overdue ‘catch up’.

With the playground demographic predominantly female, I made an early decision not to try and mix and instead keep my distance and make my observations from afar. This makes it sound like I was a pervert up a tree across the road watching them with a pair of binoculars which wasn’t the case (I couldn’t find a big enough ladder). My conclusion was that each of the school mums would fall into one of a number of distinguishable categories which included;

• Mums who turn up in full heavy make-up, high heels and faux leather themed ‘going out’ clothes at 3.15pm (The Kat Slater Mums). My assumption of these was that they were clearly either a) ready early for a big night in Romford that would inevitably finish with a fight in a chicken shop at 3am or b) a working prostitute who would drop her child to Grandma’s house before making her way straight to her next punter.
• Mums who have a responsible full time job as well as simultaneously dealing with childcare (The Karen Brady Mums). These will shoe horn details of how important their responsibilities are and how busy they’ve been into an otherwise unrelated conversation you might be having about the weather or packed lunches. The extreme workload they have undertaken will be further emphasised as they repeatedly check their phones for new emails and criticise their ‘lazy’ husbands presumably in the hope that a stay at home mum will comment “I don’t know how you do it,” and present  them with a superhero cape.
• Mums who have taken the job that nobody else wanted (parent fundraising) and now mistakenly think the power it brings makes them popular (The Liz Truss Mums). These will usually be stood alone holding a clipboard and under no circumstances should you ever let them catch your eye. If you are unlucky enough to see them approaching you, it is highly recommended that you fake a heart attack/stroke rather than take the risk of being lumbered with a seven hour stint supervising the coconut shy at the Summer Fete.
• Mums that are always accompanied by a large, unruly and uncontrollable litter of their other children (The Pied Piper Mums). Whilst their feral offspring terrorise the playground with their fists, bad language and shin shattering metal scooters, she can visibly be seen to move ever closer to what seems an inevitable mental and physical breakdown. Despite the obvious tragedy surrounding this type of school mum, they are my personal favourites as, much like a quick trip to Clacton-On-Sea, they serve to make me feel a lot better about myself and my own personal circumstances.

A trip to the pantomime has always been one my favourite yuletide traditions (oh no it hasn’t) and I will always live with deep regret (oh yes I will) that I failed to make it to Southend Cliffs Pavilion in 2014 to witness the historical moment when Christopher Biggins and David Hasselhoff (the panto equivalent of Messi & Ronaldo) trod the boards together.

I recently read a news article that reported how a particular regional production of Aladdin was cancelled after complaints were received in regards to it being ‘dated and culturally insensitive’. In my opinion this couldn’t be further from the truth with the characters and themes associated with panto probably reflecting the world we live in today more accurately than they ever have.

The principal boy character is traditionally played by a woman who has decided to dress as a man and the roles of Dames and Ugly Sisters are always taken by men who have made the choice to dress and identify as women. Sarah the Cook provides a positive female role model in a world dominated by male chefs, Sleeping Beauty perfectly portrays the laziness of benefits Britain and Goldilocks, in the midst of a cost of living crisis, is forced to break into a stranger’s house just to get a decent meal and find somewhere warm to spend the night. Jack, who sold his mum’s property to buy ‘magic beans’ before claiming to have met a giant and a goose that laid golden eggs, is a prime example of substance abuse amongst teens, while ‘Puss in Boots’ is a specialist form of adult entertainment that I’m told is readily available on the internet.

Aladdin features a long, lost relative with promises of great wealth and riches, which is not too dissimilar to the email I got last week from my Nigerian uncle requesting that  I send my bank details in order to receive my $5M inheritance. If this storyline was to be given a more modern twist however, the Chinese laundry would almost certainly be in lockdown due to another Covid outbreak and the three wishes to be granted by the magic lamp would now probably be;

• Gas
• Electricity
• Trolley full of groceries.

While a princess living in harmony with 7 vertically challenged manual labourers is undoubtedly a great example of a diverse society, Snow White is another production that could do with a slight tweak to bring it more up to date. To more accurately fit the world we all live in today, instead of Sneezy, Sleepy, Happy, Grumpy, Dopey, Bashful and Doc, the Dwarves should now be known as;

1. Hungry
2. Chilly
3. Druggy
4. Boozy
5. Vapey
6. Wasteful
7. Strike

Politicians would be perfect to play a number of characters, with Boris Johnson as Widow Twankey (with a silent T), Liz Truss as Fairy Godmother (makes a brief appearance before disappearing in a puff of smoke) and Rishi Sunak as Robin Hood from ‘Babes in the Wood’ (with the robbing the rich to give to the poor theme reversed). And why not also include some members of the Royal Family who could easily fill a number of different roles including;

• Prince Charming. (Prince William)
• Beauty & the Beast. (Zara Phillips & Mike Tindall)
• The Wicked Step Mother. (Camilla)
• The King’s son from Cinderella who risks everything by falling in love with a common scrubber. (Prince Harry)
• Captain Hook from Peter Pan who is a powerful yet dislikeable bully who spends a lot of his time on an island surrounded by underage children. (Prince Andrew)

I will once again sign off with a joke;

An American tourist arrives at an Irish hotel for three days of golf and asks the receptionist if she knows of anyone suitable he could play with. She points him in the direction of Seamus who is in the bar (double stereotype) and after a brief conversation he tells the American, “I’ll meet you here at 9am tomorrow morning but I might be half an hour late.”

Seamus arrives the next morning at 9am carrying a set of left handed golf clubs and plays 18 holes with the American who he beats. They arrange to play again the next day with Seamus once again telling the American, “I’ll meet you here at 9am tomorrow morning but I might be half an hour late.”

Seamus arrives the next morning at 9am this time carrying a set of right handed golf clubs, plays 18 holes and once again beats the American. They arrange to play for a final time on his last day with Seamus once again telling the American, “I’ll meet you here at 9am tomorrow morning but I might be half an hour late.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” enquired the American. “Of course not,” replied Seamus.

“The first day you turn up here with a set of left handed clubs and played with them and the next day you turn up with a set of right handed clubs and played with them. How do you decide which clubs you are going to play with each day?”

“Well,” said Seamus, “It all depends on which side my wife is lying in the bed when I wake up first thing in the morning. If I wake up and she’s lying on her left side I take the left handed clubs and if I wake up and she’s lying on her right side I take the right handed clubs.”

“And what happens if you wake up and she’s lying on her back?” asked the American.

 “I’ll be half an hour late.”

Festive greetings to everyone and if you’re a Dad, make sure you have your black sack ready to assume the vitally important duty of wrapping paper collector on Christmas morning.

Thanks again for reading.