CHRISTMAS is a strange time of year. You either love it or hate it. I just work through it . . . literally.
Yes, dear readers, I’ll be here bashing away on the keyboard while you’re stuffing yourselves silly with turkey and all the trimmings, just so you can read the weather forecast for the start of the Boxing Day Test. I’m not complaining, mind you. It’s not the first Christmas Day I’ve worked and it probably won’t be the last. Nothing - not even Santa - can stop the breaking and making of news.
And nothing, it seems, can stop Santa’s newest helper, Kevin 747, who flew into town briefly on Thursday.
Let’s face it, the PM is more than a little elf-like with his ruddy cheeks, wispy grey hair, and impish glasses perched on the end of his button nose.
He’s busy too, although I can’t imagine him toiling away in the North Pole all year without the occasional overseas jaunt to rescue some far off island nation from financial ruin or militant uprising.
Kev is a can-do elf . . . sorry, man . . . it’s easy to get confused at this time of year.
My share of Kev’s Christmas cash bonus - wrapped up as part of a $10 billion economic stimulus package - landed in my bank account earlier this week about the same time as the power, gas and water bills arrived in the letterbox. There’ll be no excuse for not paying these on time this time.
I’ve paid the kinder fees too, and will begrudgingly fork over the outstanding amount on my solicitor’s account next week. With all these annoying financial obligations met, I thought it was time to get some stimulus of my own, so I hit the shops for some much-overdue retail therapy. Christmas shopping is like retail therapy on steroids. It’s frenzied, frustrating and fabulous all at the same time.
What I’ve always liked about Christmas shopping is the deadline. I can identify with December 24. It focuses the mind and motivates the spirit of giving.
People who finished their Christmas shopping in October miss all the fun of last-minute shopping: endless laps of the city looking for that elusive car park, stepping over screaming toddlers in the toy aisle, and long queues at the checkout. Marvellous stuff.
Thankfully, the majority of us like to leave it to the last minute, so we can throng together at our favourite retail mecca in pursuit of the perfect gift. But this year is different, thanks or no thanks to Kev.
He’s taken the guilt out of over-spending, of maxing-out the plastic. The economic conservative of Kevin 07 has been replaced by Kev the Great of 08, who has told us to get out there and spend, spend, spend and to do it for our country.
This nationalistic sanctioning of over indulgence is at odds with the perverse pleasure I normally derive from pushing my Christmas budget to the limit and finding a bargain in a sea of overpriced tat.
Instead, I feel strangely obligated to spend Kev’s cash wisely; to buy Australian-made or shop where my dollar will do the most good at propping up the ailing economy. But the added pressure of doing my duty as a consumer has taken its toll on my creative, some would say eclectic, gift selection.
The Christmas pressies I’ve bought so far have been practical, sensible and, well, downright boring.
Dad, I know you’ll put the hardware store voucher to good use buying energy saving devices for around the home. And Mum, you can’t go past Bonds for quality leisure gear.
I hate to break it to you, girls, but all toys are made in China, not the North Pole, so I’ve opened savings accounts on your behalf.
Yes, MM1, you can have cash in lieu of a present, but only if you promise to shop sensibly at the post-Christmas sales.
Nieces and nephews, ditto on the dull gifts this year. You might not thank Aunty Susan, but your parents will if we can avoid a recession.
So shop til you drop one and all. Do it now and do it for your country.
Merry Christmas!
SUSAN MASTERS is the News Editor at The Advertiser.
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