Bing's Bright Idea

I now understand why Bing Crosby sang about White Christmas’ – because rainy ones are rubbish. We had to endure a good few inches of the blue stuff in the run up to the 24th / 25th December and the visit of Santa Claus. Thankfully now we’ve had a couple of dry days and bright blue skies.

Apart from the inclement weather it’s been a happy Christmas in the O’Brien clan of the South West of France. Maxime is now a confirmed present opener, including even those of his 2 month old brother, sister and his parents (who are slightly older than 2 months). Mrs. O’Brien was deservedly spoilt so at least she can say 2010 ended on a high after such a difficult year. And both Mr and Mrs O’Brien managed to avert any disputes over Christmas dinner because one was seafood based at the parents in law and the other was meat based at the parents. There really was something for everyone.

A few different things struck me at the start of the festive period. I particularly enjoyed going to Christmas mass this year. As Maxime starts to understand the mystery of Santa Claus I found myself musing about how I’m going to have to start explaining to him the mystery of baby Jesus and the Holy Trinity (admittedly made more difficult because of the lack of any super presents other than spiritual strength and eternal life). I suspect I’ll have to talk to him in terms of Jesus being a special friend whose opinion I respect and that I go to see for an hour each week. Thankfully I’ve got a few more months to hone my story. I suppose that the good news is that for all its failings the Catholic Church is very welcoming – so much so that the French parish priest even refused to acknowledge my mum’s Protestant faith and thrust a consecrated host down her throat during Christmas mass. I suspect the German Benedict would disapprove of such indiscriminate by hook or by crook French attempts to increase the size of the practising flock.

Despite the religious aspect to Christmas there is an undeniable materialistic part to proceedings as well. Whilst I genuinely believe that the word materialistic doesn’t have to have pejorative connotations (people take pleasure in giving and received gifts), I think I must be getting older because I now have the beginnings of some sort of formal sliding scale of presents in my head. When you are small, the most important thing is the size of the presents, afterwards it becomes the number of presents, when you’re a bit older their value seems important. Now I’m definitely getting older because it seems like the things that are most important to me are both the difficulty it takes to source a present (a blank envelope with an IOU in it (hastily scribbled on Christmas Eve no doubt) or online purchases from Amazon typically score poorly); and the utility of the item / whether or not it has been specifically requested; as an example receiving another pair of functional socks or underpants which can always be used is particularly demoralising, whereas receiving a pair of requested riding gloves is particularly pleasing. Again, something else for me to refine over the next 12 months to help my family find presents for someone who, admittedly, has everything he needs and is generally very picky.

Another thing which struck me was that although Christmas is a time of traditions, traditions are there to be created. Having grown up childless in Newcastle (successfully avoiding teenage pregnancies and the like), now it’s a case of living in the South of France and having children. This has clearly changed how Christmas is going to be over the next 20 years or so. I suppose it is up to us to decide how we want Christmas to play out e.g. parents in law on the 24^th, parents on the 25^th, midnight mass or not, all presents opened in a mad rush at the crack of dawn, or spread out over the course of the day etc. One of the nicest traditions that I’d heard about in talking with my clients was a Swiss family that put their odd pennies in a big jar over the course of the year. During the Christmas meal they all guess how much money is in the jar. The person who is closest gets to decide on the family outing or activity which is paid for using the money in the jar. That sounds like a great idea although he did confirm that even when he wins it is still his wife who decides what the chosen activity is. It seems like some traditions are the same the world over.