BEERY CLASHMAS and a Hoppy New Year to one and all. I hope most of you spent the festive season with people you actually like, and those who didn’t managed to get through the proceedings without going nuts.
 
Remembering the family Christmasses of my youth, surrounded by elderly relatives who treated the Daily Express as more of a Bible than the real thing, and fed up with the inane rhymes in the seasonal greetings cards, I decided to write my own personalised salutation this year.

I’m happy to say it went down very well; the people who inspired it are no longer around to be offended, and the recipients either responded with a “Hit the nail on the head there” or a “Really pleased my lot aren’t like that!” Job done.
 
 
 

ALTERNATIVE CHRISTMAS CARD
 

‘Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the land
The comrades were waiting
For folk they can’t stand.
The Sun reading uncle –
‘Those strikers are barmy’
His Mail-doting partner:
‘Just send in the army’.
 
My tactics were simple
Midst the festive strife.
(I’ve dealt with this nonsense
For much of my life.)
‘It says in the paper…’
‘Oh, auntie, stop whining.
That isn’t a paper –
It’s litter tray lining.’
 
If that is too forthright
Just sink lots of beer
And put on a smile
You know is a sneer.
It won’t last for ever –
At most, half a day.
They don’t like you either.
They’ll soon go away.
 
 
I embraced 2022 with a thirst normally reserved for the first pint of ale after a long bike ride. The sheer joy of gigging once more after the privations of lockdown took me all over England and Wales, Germany, Austria, Sweden and Holland, and I actually did a gig in Scotland outside Glasgow and Edinburgh. (Thank you, Stirling.)