I know you will be reading these words in January, but as I write them Christmas is just around the corner, a happy time of large gatherings in Downing Street and indeed at Infinity HQ, where in 2021 Darth Vader was on the guest list. He was no fun at the Secret Santa game though because he always felt his presents.
Joking aside, what makes me sad about Christmas these days is it’s just not as much fun as it was when I was a happy young lad running around in short trousers. For a start I used to love getting my hands on the Christmas Radio Times and circling the films and programmes I wanted to watch. In the days before home video you had to be in front of the telly at the appointed hour or that was your lot mate, you missed out. It often led to arguments too, especially when your parents wanted to watch some utterly miserable ‘light entertainment’ show like the Christmas edition of the Billy Cotton Band Show, which always started with the cry “Wakey-Wake-aaaay!”, followed by the band’s signature tune “Somebody Stole My Gal”. Billy was a chubby Cockney and my dad loved him almost as much as he loved playing the bagpipes at Hogmanay -and that was a whole new level of torment. I still subscribe to the notion that the best way to tune a set of bagpipes is with a pitchfork.