Christmas in Extreme

I've reached the stage where I can't take any more tinsel covered seasonal specials on the regular TV channels, so I've resorted to watching repeats of stuff like Jonathan Creek on Drama.  Don't get me wrong - I'm not fed up with Christmas, (that peculiarly English condition whereby we complain about having a midwinter break from work and routines), just the relentless march of Christmas editions of regular TV shows that you know were filmed back in July and which differentiate themselves from regular episodes simply by sticking a Christmas tree in the corner of the set.  Or, if they are a soap opera, even more miserable plot lines than usual, (plus a Christmas tree in the corner of every set).  You know, it is bloody depressing the way in which soap characters never have a happy Christmas, how it is always ruined in some catastrophic way.  OK, I know that in real life many people have disastrous Christmases for a variety of reasons, but not the same people, every bloody year.

That's the problem with Christmas TV: it has a tendency to portray Christmas as being either of two extremes - the miserable disaster or some sparkly paradise where dreams come true.  In reality, for most of us, it lies somewhere in between.  I remember, as a young child, being vaguely frustrated that our frequently fractious family Christmases were nothing like the apparently idyllic ones portrayed on children's TV, (while at the same time feeling relieved that weren't as miserable as the ones shown in adult dramas).  The media sets expectations for Christmas far too high, meaning that the people are inevitably disappointed when the reality falls short.  Conversely, while it might be disappointing, the Christmas experience is rarely as miserable as portrayed in the soaps.  But that's how I learned to start enjoying Christmas: I lowered my expectations and found a way of celebrating the season that suited me.  I don't expect it to be a life-changing experience, nor do I expect it to be utterly miserable.  I see it now as a welcome, well-lit, intermission in the otherwise unrelenting cold and darkness of the winter.  A brief break from the usual routines.  But not necessarily one covered in tinsel, (although I do have a Christmas tree in the corner of the room).