The Twelve Months of Rambles...

And here we are. The final days of the weirdest, saddest, most anger-making year are upon us. Thank frig for that, I say, and all who sail in her. But at this point in December, it's customary to look back and reflect. To remember the experiences that shaped us, and the life-lessons we picked up along the way.

I don't know about you, but I'm really struggling to stomach that idea this time. We've got to the end, we're moving on, it's nearly over. (2020 I mean, rather than the specific bad stuff). I don't think I've got the constitution to assess how well I coped, how many strings to my bow were added, nor how I developed a new arsenal of resilience to lead me into 2021. Nope, not going there, not for a tiny second. Instead, I'm trying something new. Humour me. It's The Twelve Months of Rambles. Yep, you heard. Hurrah and huzzah!

Going back over the year, I've picked a blog post for each month. Some are my personal favourites, some are good indications of my own state of mind at the time, and then there are the ones that are seasonally appropriate. Click the links of any you fancy revisiting and wade into the waters of nostalgia and reflection with me. Go on, spoil yourself.

January - Normaling is Fun

We kick off this retrospective with me fanfaring a new writing schedule. Oh how it mocks me now! But back then, I bought a chair, had a private space to work, and was full of the joys of a traditional working day. Click the link to laugh at my hubris. Or marvel at the graphic sex example with which I open. Come on, you know you want to.

February - The Irony of Forgetting the Hippocampus 

In the before times, I was able to spend an entire post riffing on how much I'd forgotten the nineties; like I was smacked off my head the entire decade, or something. This was not the case, I'd just forgotten some stuff. Relive the decade I forgot by clicking the link. It was all triggered by the BBC repeating This Life, FYI.

March - Landmines and Other Pointless Similes

This month saw my most viewed blog post of all time. I know! Who'd have thought? Not solely down to the regular readers of these rambles, it was also featured on a couple of other writing websites. Whenever I check my stats, this one's still up there. If reading my warts-and-all opinions about editing fiction floats your boat, this is the one for you.

April - Hair Experimentation is Back 
By the time April had come around, I'd covered Covid several times. This week's post was no different, although I'd allowed a bit of humour to push through. The topic of coping with bad hair, shows I'd moved on from suggestions for how to keep sane amidst the debilitating worry. It was a progress of sorts.

May - Quizzing Closure
By May we were old hands at lockdown. Lockdown schmockdown was the regular cry. This post was where I shared some of the quiz rounds I'd written for my family Zoom quiz. Remember those? All the rage in Lockdown One. Along with banana bread, sourdough, and stockpiling loo roll. Good times.

June - Where to Put My Anger
Oomph. It's about now that my political anger kicked in. Or at least the point where I let it spill out onto the blog. In completely unrelated news, a government advisor went for a drive to check his eyes. Still raging. 

July - Up With the Beauticians
Still fewmin' but a month on and I'm attempting humour again. This was when it became clear that the logic behind the lockdown's easing might not be as sound as it should be. Men and their beards were well catered for, but my nails were still on hold. I ranted here. Click the link. Do.

August - The Actual Power of Books
A final, politically motivated post, as the Summer saw several restrictions eased. A failed politician fixated with immigrants pushed himself back into the news cycle. He, and a few others, got short shrift here.  

September - How to be a Winner
Around about now I made a conscious effort to change the subject. No one needing reminding of the state of the world. This post was about maintaining robust self-esteem. It defo made me sound narcissistic, but it wasn't bad advice. Read it and see.

October - I Feel Bad About My Hat
I bought a hat and I wasn't sure about it. As I wrote the paragraphs, I worked myself up into a rightful indignation that I could wear whatever I liked and it didn't matter how it looked. By the end, I was at peace. Getting older and other thoughts, were the gist of this month's chosen post.

November - Time to Remove the CNN Drip
As global events go, this was definitely at the joyous, celebratory end of the spectrum. For me, for people who oppose fascism in general, and for actual Democrat voters alike. The US election was a highlight of a horrific rolling news cycle, and the first time in years I pulled an all-nighter. Relive it by clicking the link, why don't you.

December - Unto Us a Radio Times is Available
It might be a couple of weeks old now, but it's still highly timely. We're in the sweet spot between Christmas and New Year. (That's my preferred term, although I believe other phrases apply.) It's time to catch up on the iPlayer, invest a few hours in a big-budget mini series, or simply relive the repeats from your youth. Festive telly is here to save us.

Friday will herald a brand new year. It'll see our exit from the EU become practical instead of technical, and it'll likely see the entire country added to Tier 4 instead of just parts of it. You know what? I'm game if you are. Monday morning, 11am, and I'll throw a rambling diversion your way. Let's keep rambling, yeah? Nice one. Until then, Happy New Year! We will crack on together.

Have a lovely week, folks.

Seasonal Small Stuff...

Picture the scene. December 1979. A small child in a sky-blue onesie looks up at the Christmas tree. Forty-one years ago, of course, onesies do not exist. The small child is wearing what's commonly known as a sleeping suit. The room has muted tones. With stripy brown curtains, a brown and beige carpet, and a retro TV filling most of the space, the scene screams seventies chic. But this is the cusp of a new dawn. The small child - not yet two - is ready to hit the eighties. In three years time, Wham will make their Top of the Pops debut. All of life is waiting, ready to grab with both tiny hands. 

Taller than her parent's record collection, but not as big as the television, she's filled with wonder and awe. Is she transfixed by the tinsel? Is she imagining a future when a tree without fairy lights would be considered unfinished? Or is she confused about the ornamental wooden dog, directly in her eyeline, sitting on top of the box for no apparent reason? Her family have no pet dog, nor will they ever. Why is it there? What is its purpose? No one knows.

One thing we do know, however, is that the small child in the sleeping suit turned into someone pretty damn fabulous. Even if she does say so herself. HAVE YOU GUESSED? DO YOU GET IT? HAVE I GIVEN IT AWAY? It's me! I am the small child! And look. Here's the proof. There's the random dog!

Fast forward through the decades and here we are. Another festive season is upon us. It's fair to say that this Christmas will be odd. Ridiculously so. Let's not pretend otherwise. Some people have experienced devastating loss; others inconvenience and restriction. Wherever you fall on the spectrum, I don't think there's anyone who feels they've had a brilliant year. If I'm wrong, I'm made up for you. Good luck and all the best. But for the rest of us, I reckon it's a tricker Christmas than usual. However the following week pans out for you, I hope it's OK. And if it's at all possible, I hope it's lovely. 

One life-lesson I've ingested this year, is that lowering expectations is useful. Perhaps like the 1979 Me from the photo, being (presumably) transfixed by a bauble, might be as good as it gets. But think how pretty that bauble might be. Imagine the colours as they shine in the light. All the glittery details, twinkling on the branch. Finding joy in the small stuff seems a decent start at making the most of the week. So whether it's relishing Friday morning's cup of tea, making the most of a family phone call, or focusing on the shimmer of a bauble as you eat a roast potato or pot noodle, there's always something small but positive. Even in 2020. It's worth a try, at least.

Have a lovely week, folks. And happy Christmas to all.

Unto Us a Radio Times is Available...

I do love a generic cover, 
rather than a TV show-specific
one. This cover is ideal.

Pssst. I bring you news of great joy. The 2020 Christmas Radio Times is in the shops. Pass it on. 

It was released on 8th December. By 1pm the following day I had purchased, read, and circled my highlights. (I waited a day, for added tingles.) It was everything I knew it would be. Nostalgic, traditional, and full-on old-skool. The daft thing is, it's not like I can't access quality drama, comedy, or films any minute of any day, is it? Between Catch Up TV, streaming services, YouTube, and the gazillion channels my TV can access, I'm fully covered for entertainment. Getting excited that a terrestrial TV channel will be screening a Blankety Blank Christmas Special on Christmas Day, shouldn't really be up there. But it is. The whole Radio Times experience is up there.

How fortuitous. There was
one Radio Times GIF available
and I nabbed it. 

I haven't used a paper TV guide since a Sky dish was attached to my house in 1999, but there's something lovely about its simplicity. And even though my four remote controls and TV Listings app do all the work, I still recognise the thrill of making a cup of tea, finding a decent pen, and sitting down with the Christmas edition. This year, was no exception. But, in the moment before the ritual began, I had concerns. A niggle or two surfaced. With TV and film productions shutting down this year, it occurred to me that the usual feast of festive merriment might be reduced. I couldn't handle any other major changes this December. It's one thing not to see my family, but for the love of God, don't take away my costume dramas too. (Lolz).

As it turns out, my circling pen went into overdrive. I'll have to set aside another afternoon to add my picks to the TV's planner. But that's a job for next week. For now, I am here to inform and advise. Use me, use my knowledge. Here's some Christmas TV choices that I think will be ace. Other opinions are, of course, available. 

New Stuff

Victoria Wood's Secret List is on
Christmas Day and Boxing Day.

My eye was immediately drawn to Black Narcissus. A three-parter starting on the 27th, this is exactly what a Christmas schedule is about. Based on a 1939 book I've never read, and with a 1940s adaptation I haven't seen, this shebang will be a treat. The story of nuns starting a community in the Himalayas, seems simple enough, but the write-up in the Times (Radio) used words like 'repression', 'sex', and 'a struggle for power'. In the paraphrased words of Jerry Maguire's Dorothy, 'You had me at repression.' Alternatively, if something less sexually charged yet festively gorgeous is your bag, how about Roald and Beatrix: The Tale of the Curious Mouse (24/12). Six-year-old Dahl meets grown up Potter, and it doesn't go well. A snowy Lake District backdrop, Dawn French's grumpy Beatrix, and some animation thrown in for good measure. What's not to love? If not that, then how about comedy? Victoria Wood's genius has been given another airing in the form of Victoria Wood's Secret List. (25/12 and 26/12.) Based on her own papers and emails, this is a clip show of her favourite sketches. It shouldn't technically be included in the New Stuff category as so much will be familiar, but the repackaging is new so here we are. Besides, I am happy to rewatch Victoria Wood sketches anytime of year, but their inclusion in my favourite season feels particularly lovely. Finally for this section, Grace Dent's What We Were Watching: Christmas 1995 (19/12) will be worth your time. She picks a different year every Christmas, but it's a fascinating social commentary on life in 1995, based on the TV schedules of the time. Definitely something to circle, I promise.

Christmas Specials  

I actually love her.

Look, we all know the score. You have a successful TV show that airs mid-year, but the rules say you must squeeze 'Christmas' into the title, add tinsel to the set, and film a special edition to be broadcast months later. It's the TV law. Nigella's Cook Eat Repeat Christmas on 22nd December, is a good example. Her latest series is coming to the end of its run, but not without the final episode having a festive slant, a tweaked title, and - I'll bet money on it - more fairy lights than you can shake a stick at. But this is why I love her. I'll be tuning in with my mouth watering, and my notepad ready, keen to hoover up the seasonal crumbs she scatters. In a similar vein, we've got Would I Lie to You at Christmas (24/12), Mortimer and Whitehouse Gone Christmas Fishing (23/12), Ghosts Christmas Special (23/12), and - as foreshadowed earlier - a Blankety Blank Christmas special (25/12). All great series in their own right, and all welcome to throw in a sparkly festive episode, should they wish. Finally, an annual treat comes in the form of Fanny Craddock Cooks for Christmas. Winging its way from 1975, only one of the episodes seems to be scheduled (24/12), but catch the whole series on iPlayer. I implore you. They're brilliant.

Films

The phrase 'star-studded' doesn't do
it justice. Ustinov's Death on the 
Nile. We'll have to make do with
this, whilst we wait for Branagh's
version to be released.

Films scheduled at Christmas don't carry the same weight as they did in my youth. When festive recording was the only way I got to uplevel my VHS collection, it was of much greater importance to set the video. But the habit has stuck. Despite the fact I can probably find most, if not all of these gems on Netflix this instant, these are the films I'll be metaphorically taping on my telly. That way I'll have a sumptuous feast to devour over the post-Christmas days indoors. Firstly, forget your Sunday night David Suchets, it's Ustinov's Poirot that gets brought out at Christmas. Catch him in Death on the Nile or Evil Under the Sun (both on 28/12) and rejoice in his twinkle-eyed interpretation of Christie's creation. In a related twist, Murder on the Orient Express is being broadcast twice. TWICE. Catch Albert Finney (28/12), Kenneth Branagh (1/21) - or as I intend to, both - and enjoy faithful retellings of the classic book. But look, not everyone loves an Agatha Christie like I do. I'm also taping Casablanca (23/12). Mainly because I've never seen it, and I feel like I should have done. And then Christmas Eve wouldn't be Christmas Eve without It's a Wonderful Life, so luckily it's on at 2.35pm. Then there are the other standard Christmas classics, albeit the ones that have nothing to do with Christmas. Grease is on Boxing Day, The Sound of Music will be on the 27th, and finally - my favourite non-Christmas, Christmas movie that always reminds me of the teenage Boxing Day I first saw it - Shirley Valentine is on the 30th. In a hilarious coincidence, I am now the same age as Shirley, when she left Joe and moved to Greece. 'Christ Shirley, you're only forty-two,' I shall say to myself as I pack a secret bag and talk to the wall. Good times. 

There's more than a few links to be 
made between the post-war It's
a Wonderful Life and austerity-
riddled, pandemic-hit, Brexit Britain.
But hey, that's why it's perfect. 
The message is timeless.

Of course the greatest joy of all is that I've barely scratched the surface. When you sit down to circle your own top TV picks, none of my lot might catch your eye. And isn't that wonderful? There's so much for everyone. So many choices, and so much to enjoy. The fact that we'll be spending a lot more time indoors this year, meant we needed the schedules to be decent. I am happy to report, that in this blogger's opinion, they are. Hurrah. 

Have a lovely week, folks.

Songs For You...

Yes he is, Buddy. And the excitement
and expectation of that, happily fills the
 preceding three months. Just one day,
my arse.

'It's just a day.' 

Have you heard this sentiment recently? It seems when anyone is getting a little bit giddy with the joys of the season, the phrase, 'it's just a day' is the steadying voice of reason from someone with far more sense and control. 

Well, booooo to them. I'm not having it. Christmas Day might be just a day. But the season is as long or as short as you make it. This year - the year of our Lord two thousand and twenty, AKA the End Times - my Christmas season has just entered its third phase. Let me quickly bring you up to speed before we get cracking.

Phase One. Mid-October to the the start of November. It was a brief spell, but one where Summer became Winter. (Like Spring, Autumn needs to pick a side and get off the fence.) Phase One was when it got dark earlier, central heating was required, and Christmas stuff appeared in the shops. It was also when The Feels started. 

This saccharine schmaltz is
courtesy of the Hallmark channel.

Phase Two. The whole of November. A solid month of build-up glitz and sparkle. Netflix dropped saccharine schmalz, presents were bought, and plans (would have been) made. The odd box of mince pies or brie and cranberry breaded bites got added to the trolley, and weekend drinks started earlier and earlier. If I held off until Wednesday I was doing well. 

The palette of dreams. 
It only gets a look in,
during December, and
 even then I stick to
about four of the colours.
But still. SPARKLES.

Phase Three. December 1st to 26th. 
Here we are, bang up to speed, embarking on the final countdown. By now we're wearing sparkly eyeshadow every day. (That's the royal we btw.) We've got the decs up, we can't enter the kitchen without shovelling a cherry liqueur into our gobs, and Christmas music soundtracks our every move. Welcome to the beginning of the end of the season!

Now we're all on the same page, let's get to today's point and a word about that Christmas music. In our multi-platform, Spotify-laden world, the joy of the Christmas CD has been lost. I'll be honest, I'm still not over tapes going - their phasing out brought me great distress. CDs have always been second best for me, but I digress. When Alexa can churn out 14,532 Christmas songs any time you bother to ask, there's the missing element of discerning refinement. Having everything means losing the joy of something. A curated list of bangers is always going to top that. So here is my Phase Three gift to you. A list of nine marvellous Christmas tunes. Not definitive by any means - I wouldn't dream of being so presumptuous - but a bite-sized chunk of festive cheer via song title. Click the links, crank them up, and enjoy. 

White Wine in the Sun by Tim Minchin. A secular carol that's totes emosh under normal circumstances, but listening with 2020 hindsight offers an even deeper gut-punch. Click it and see.

The Christmas Song by Smith and Burrows featuring Agnes Obel. Covered by many, but this is my favourite. Small but perfectly formed, the harmonies alone make my festive heart sigh with happiness. Give it a whirl.

Christmas Wrapping originally by the Waitresses. What's better than the Waitresses? Not much TBH, but this version throws in Kylie, the Royal Albert Hall, a live orchestra and audience participation. Joy unconfined for five marvellous minutes. Get on it.
 
Maybe this Christmas by Ron Sexsmith. 
A chilled out, reflective little number. Not usually found on collections like Now That's What I Call Christmas 56,439, so I've included it here instead. Give it a go.

Must Be Santa by Bob Dylan. More lively jigging about with this cover. I guarantee you an ear worm but it'll be worth it. 

When the Thames Froze by Smith and Burrows. It's fabulous when you hear your new favourite Christmas song for the first time. Simon Mayo played this on his drive time show, in December 2011, just as I passed the Tesco on Rose Lane. The fact I remember when and where, surely shows its impact. Play it!

 

Christmas Lights by Coldplay. I realise Coldplay are the musical equivalent of Marmite these days, but stick with it. This makes me happy, mostly because of the jump from a 4/4 to 3/4 time signature, but that's just me. Try it. Do.

 
The Power of Love by Frankie Goes To Hollywood. Now we're talking. Shivers. Tingles. Hauntingness. (Paging Susie Dent?) I once visited a friend at Uni in December, and we listened to this on repeat in the dark for ages. It remains a Christmas highlight.

And finally, Last Christmas by Wham. YES. HERE WE GO. Excuse me for just less than five minutes whilst I escape into my happy place. 

Do you like skiing, Nicky? 

Nooooo. 

Winter sports in general? 

Not for a tiny second. 

Why do you like this video then? 

I LIKE SNOW AND CABINS AND MEALS AROUND TABLES WITH FRIENDS AND SMOULDERING UNDERCURRENTS AND BROODING. THAT'S WHY I LIKE IT. NOW LEAVE ME ALONE.

Last Christmas cannot be played enough. I can only pity those that insist on participating in Whamageddon. At a minimum, it's a daily treat. Why deny yourself the pleasure? What are you? Masochists? Be gone with you and your puritanical ways. I've a video to gorge on.

So there we have it. My Christmas playlist offering. It's at the more niche end of the festive tune spectrum but I'm happy. There's plenty of room for your Noddy Holders and your Wizards, but my choices are less likely to be belted out from Marksies speakers when you're panic buying on the 23rd. (Wham, excepted.) Give them a go. What else have you got to do this year? Sit in your PJs eating crisps? Well, yeah, OK. Good call. Crack on with your day. (Just give them a listen while you do.)

Have a lovely week, folks.