Resolutions…

I resolve to keep my temper next time some simpering half-wit asks me what my resolutions are.

For what is only the second time ever since the age of 15 I have woken up on New Year’s Day without a raging hangover (for no noble reason, somehow it just didn’t happen last night, possibly because I had consumed significant amounts of the old vin rouge the night before, followed by an early start so actually I did not drink at all) so for once I speak with clarity (well the clarity offered by limited intelligence, perspective is required), when I say this.

I understand why people take stock, review and set goals when the new year arrives, it’s just not me…I resolved to have brown sauce on the gammon and eggs as opposed to Worcester this morning but that’s as far as it goes.

It’s like dry January, I suppose it’s a good idea to have a month off if you’re wrecked every day but then may I suggest you either give it up or carry on…it’s enough to drive you to drink.

Christmas and New Year really has become a season/holiday as our American chums like to call it and I think because we get cocooned in a festival of food, drink, excess and consumerism for about ten days (two months at least if you are unfortunate enough to work in retail/hospitality) many come out the other side, looking to cleanse, perhaps it is the annual showing of ‘The Sound of Music’ on New Year’s Day that makes us all nunastic (pretty sure it’s not a word but take a line through monastic and you will get there!).

It’s when you get a bit of time to sit and think isn’t it?

Unfortunately that’s bad news for me because my mind is full of rubbish…for example if I scan the TV listings to consider my festive viewing¬†I think about the circus shows that used to be on Boxing Day/New Year’s Day, and in particular I think about Charlie Cairoli, the alleged clown. This bloke had an annual kids show when I was growing up and really, all his act consisted of was standing in the middle of the big top and calling out ‘Ho Jimmy’ in a cod Italian manner (in fairness he was of Italian descent) and then when Jimmy appeared, a septuagenarian wearing a white vest and a kilt, he would slap him vigorously around the head whilst Jimmy made a face like the village idiot ¬†with his tongue hanging out.

This passed for humour/entertainment in the 1970s and just goes to underline how we have all moved on…whilst everyone else thinks about wellbeing as they colour in their colouring books (can I ask REALLY what IS going on there? The king is in the altogether…), deciding on massive lifestyle changes that will last at least a week, I am left considering crap clowns and their sidekicks.

Welcome to my world.

Happy New Year!

Tony