Where in the World is Garry? |
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Home for the Holidays - Preston, England, December '06
and so this is Christmas
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and so this is Christmas Well John, the answer to that question is easy, I'm one year older. Funny how something that once brought so much joy and excitement now only serves as a painful reminder of the relentless passing of time and our own mortality. No, no, I haven't been at the Christmas Sherry again just ruminating at how difficult it is to capture the spirit of Christmas as one gets older. I know I have been away from England for some time and haven't had the luxury of watching the stars of yore grow old gracefully but there is something quite disturbing about turning on the TV and seeing John Craven looking like great grand-dad Craven because he hit the wrong lever on Jules Verne's time machine. I wasn't prepared for the fact that the TV personalities of my youth would haunt me for the rest of my life. There should be some rule that they only get to be famous for ten years, while one is a teenager, or in their twenties or thirties but not for all three decades. Perpetual infamy is so unbecoming. Anna Ford has a neck like a tortoise, Noel Edmunds now suits his bad sweaters, Bill Oddie looks as though he sleeps in the park and Bruce Forsythe should be hanging in a Biology lab. They have all turned into grand parents so where does that leave me? Older. |
Christmas Grotto |
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