A lighter look at 2019

It is the penultimate day of the year and I wouldn't want to make light of it on a personal level, so all I'll say is... thank goodness for celebrities (and Prince Andrew).

Gemma Collins (or the GC as she likes to call herself) took part in 'Dancing on Ice', a program that I choose not to watch. Even so, I was forced to read headlines about her diva tantrums. Until pride, literally came before a fall.

That certainly would qualify as the most 'ouch' moment of the year.

I am a bit conflicted whether to award the next person with the 'biggest knucklehead' of the year or the 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it' lesson of the year, and since I hate conflict, he that goes by the name of Jussie Smollett, shall be awarded both.

Imagine being a relatively successful actor and deciding that you deserve more and hatching a plan to get the more of everything that you think you deserve.

Unfortunately, there was just one flaw in his plan - it needed more brains. 

Hiring extras that are known to you and paying them with a cheque that has your name on it, is the opposite of a cunning plan.

Needless to say, the career of Smollett is now gonnett.

Another person whose career took a self inflicted nose dive this year, is Prince Andrew.

Like Mr. Smollett, the Grand Old Duke of York, also had a grand plan.

He would redeem himself by giving an interview to the BBC.

It is fair to say, he didn't just shoot himself in the foot. He shot himself in both feet, one toe at a time.

He certainly gets a clutch of awards. One would be for 'worst alibi' of the year.

'I went to Pizza Express in Woking that evening'. Impressive. I remember going to Pizza Express three months ago but do I remember the date or the time? Sadly, not.

But then again, one is royal, so a trip to Pizza Express and rubbing shoulders with the hoi polloi may well have been traumatic enough to stick in one's memory for a lifetime.

I wouldn't be surprised if one had demanded a decontamination wash down after the trip.

Maybe that's how one remembers where one was that evening but one doesn't want to say, lest one comes across as snooty.

He also gets an award for 'most deluded opinion of oneself'.

Talk about not seeing the wood for the trees, his honourable highness doesn't appear to see the wood or the trees.

What gets me, is that most of us (who live in the real world), have enough self awareness to realise when we've made jackasses of ourselves.

Not Prince Andrew. He informed Mummy that the interview went swimmingly well, until the entire nation informed her otherwise. 

One then had to issue a P45 to one's own son.

The judges on Strictly Come Dancing this year, decided to bestow 10s like so much confetti being flung by over enthusiastic (and slightly inebriated) guests at a wedding.

Except for Craig Revel Horwood. However, he doesn't get an award for being the most sensible judge on a reality show. 

He gets the 'foot in your mouth' award, for complimenting Anton du Beke on his wig, glasses and fake teeth...except Anton's teeth were (and still are to the best of my knowledge) very much his own.

The 'dancing queen' award is most certainly Tay May's.

She has now danced out of No 10 and may well be available to take part in Strictly Come Dancing next year.

If that happens, Anton du Beke (and his authentic teeth) will almost certainly partner her.

I could go on, but I won't. 

I think there is enough here, no matter what sort of year you've had, to make you feel slightly better about yourself.

Until next year, try and keep it light.

A lighter look at Christmas Cards and letters

If you are of a certain age, you may remember the first time your family received a Christmas card that didn't feature the traditional Nativity scene or a Christmas tree or even a Robin red breast (that quintessentially native bird of Bethlehem). 

Instead, you opened the envelope to find the Browns, or perhaps the de Silvas, grinning at you from their bespoke family portrait card.

At some point, the senders of such cards, came to realise that there wasn't anything festive about a family posing for a nondescript  photograph.

So, with precise planning, they donned on Christmas hats in August and posed in front of a plastic Christmas tree, so that their perfect  Christmas cards were all printed and ready to be unleashed on unsuspecting family and friends, by early December.

Unfortunately, it did not stop there. 

Someone looked at their family Christmas card and despite all of them looking giddy with happiness and grinning like a tribute band to the Osmonds, they wondered how on earth would cousin Jenny know that their Bobby had been accepted into the 7th best University in the country.

(A point they were particularly keen to drive home, as Jenny's son had dropped out of Uni the year before).

Also, how would the recipient know that Dad had received a 'huge' promotion at work and that the youngest family member, Matilda, had been made captain of the girls' lacrosse team. 

Not to mention the fact that they, in their family home,  had hosted 81 dinner parties (Mum Maureen was such a dab hand at throwing these soirees) and had received 43 overnight guests,who would certainly, and individually, be named - not that one was looking to be lauded, or shown gratitude or anything crass like that.

And so, was born, the annual 'Christmas letter'. 

Three double sided A4 sheets from Uncle Caetano, waxing lyrical about his family, in painful, eye watering detail, and suddenly you find your Mum looking at you with the withering look of a let down and immensely disappointed Mother.

Nowadays, the 'keeping in touch to let you know how fabulous we are' letters have blissfully been confined to history, as Uncle C and his ilk have moved on to the 24/7, 365 days a year, preening platform, otherwise known as social media.

The family photo Christmas card hasn't disappeared altogether but seems confined to the rich, famous and photogenic, like the Cambridges.

This year for the Christmas card, they rolled out that most festive of all modes of transport.... a motorbike.

There's William sitting astride the bike holding little Louis in front of him. (Not sure why I emphasised 'little', one would hardly expect a big Louis to be sitting in front of the future monarch).

Kate is leaning ever so gently towards him, with one hand on the handle bars to the right.

A psychologist might have a field day with that but I am no psychologist, although I suspect the invisible hand of Granny is on the handle bars to the left.

George and Charlotte are standing in the side car. 

There you go, I have painted a verbal picture for you. If you want to see the actual pic, just use google.

Then there's the American royal couple and their family. The West/Kardashians, all assembled and sitting beautifully on the staircase of their family home.

They magnanimously decided to share their Christmas card pic with the world (it is the season of giving after all), so that their millions of followers could fawn.

Unfortunately, the fawning was accompanied by gasps of disbelief as accusations started to fly, that North West (the child, not the direction) had been photoshopped into the picture.

Mum Kim admitted that it was true. Apparently, North West was having a day. 'Does she usually have nights?' you might ask.

To which, I would say, 'Don't be silly'. She was having a mood, a strop, throwing a tantrum, doing a Mariah Carey - take your pick.

Anyway, North walked off (not sure which direction, could've been South).

But then, the next day,  North had another change of direction and wanted to be in the pic.

Mum Kim promptly said yes. Probably to avoid North having a week or possibly a month.

What surprised me most about the pic, was that Chicago (the child not the city), was sitting on her dad's lap, holding a cookie, not a pizza. Rare missed opportunity there.

Never mind, there's always Easter. They can congregate on the staircase again and Chicago can hold a slice of a certain brand of pizza...unless she chooses to have a day.

Until next time, try and keep it light and if you can't, indulge and have a fabulous festive season!

A lighter look at the news

I'm not sure if you've heard of Aldi's 'Kevin the Carrot' plush soft toy. I won't be surprised if you haven't because I hadn't either.

It's a phenomenon that has completely passed me by, up until now. Well, being generous of heart I have decided to share it with you, along with my incredulity.

It all started in 2016, when in their Christmas ad, the supermarket Aldi decided to put Kevin the Carrot as the main support act to turkey (since we are naming food, let's call it Tallulah)  on the Christmas table. This incensed Russel sprout (understandably so).

The ad ended with Kevin powering Santa's reindeer and his sleigh (with him in it of course) which is no mean feat (not that I am fat shaming good old Santa).

In 2017, Kevin met Katie (I've never seen such long lashes on a carrot). Yes, Kevin stayed true to his race - no pretty Penny Parsnip for our Kev. Katie batted those impossibly long lashes at him and he turned to mush.

Fast forward to 2019, and Katie appears to have morphed into the Marge Simpson of the vegetable world, although I am happy to say that the lashes are still lush. Don't ask me about the mechanics of it all but they have produced three baby carrots.

Not sure if their names begin with 'K' as well but if they do, it makes them the KKKKK klan of karrots. 

In the meanwhile, the passing years have only served to embitter Russel Sprout further. Who can blame him? He gets to be feted (I exaggerate) one day in the year before fading into oblivion for the next 364 days. 

His vendetta takes a turn for the worse as he and his gang of Leafy Blinders (flat cap and all) try to attack Kevin.

It ends with Kevin singing 'Let me entertain you'. Personally, the only thing I would entertain is a cardiac arrest if a carrot shot up on my plate at the Christmas table and belted out a Robbie Williams song.

Now for the part that has me incredulous. There is an absolute craze for the plush soft toy versions of these characters. A three foot Kevin sells for £19.99.Why would anyone want to cuddle a three foot carrot is beyond me. In fact the whole thing is beyond me.

Apparently, people (mostly parents) have been queuing up for hours waiting for Aldi shops to open, so that they can merrily push and shove each other in non-seasonal fervour to acquire these toys.

Personally, I feel a little sorry for Russel Sprout. Kevin and Katie do appear to be a trifle smug. Maybe it's because even little humans like them, which is not a boast most vegetables can make.

They are popular all year round, so I don't think that they should be stealing the limelight from poor old Russel Sprout on that one day of the year that he gets to shine (once again, I exaggerate).

It's too late now, but bearing in mind that the Leafy Blinders were unsuccessful this year, perhaps Russel Sprout can recruit Rod Bean to help him next year. 

That's your new character for next year sorted Aldi. I am open to a show of gratitude by way of a hamper (I am nothing if not persistent). Please don't feel obliged to include any of your plush soft toy vegetables in it, although on second thoughts, they apparently go for six times the retail price on ebay........

Until next week, try and keep it light!