I was never a fan of the Twelve Pubs of Christmas Lark – or the crush of amateur once-a-year drinkers you’d normally get into your local at this time of year.
Christmas is a time for charity, but it was always hard to be charitable to eight lads in Christmas jumpers you’ve never seen before acting the eejit after three shandies and a packet of Tayto.
But, walking home from work on Friday night, past the (mostly) dark and shuttered pubs that I’d normally visit for a festive one at this time of year, it was hard not to feel nostalgic for the nights when Kevin from HR and his mates would be murdering Fairytale of New York as the barman seriously considered going into a new line of work in the New Year.
The only Christmas cheer on view was a gaggle of girls, dolled up, very merry and heading into a restaurant for what must have been a little work do. Talk about the ghost of Christmas past.
It’s funny how you would miss it and how we took it for granted, the crush at the bar, the pints flying out, the sing-song down the back and the craic out in the smoking area.
Of course, however much you’d feel like moaning about it here, it’s far worse for the Irish abroad who (mostly) won’t be able to get home this year to see family and friends.
Let’s face it, it’s going to be a strange Christmas and New Year. It’ll be quiet nights at home, no real buzz out on the town and there’s a good chance we’ll be trying to find some dodgy lad carrying three mobile phones and shouting; “Tickets Buyin’ or Sellin’!” to get a seat at Midnight Mass.
With limited places and high demand, all of our local churches have gone all-ticket and are completely sold out – it’s the only time Fr Murphy is going to know what it’s like to be in Westlife.
There was a doctor on the radio this week advising everybody to get out and do “a lot of walking” over the Christmas break.
Sure, you could do that. Or you could get a bottle of Baileys, a bucket of ice and a giant tin of Danish Butter Cookies and camp out on the sofa.
That may be the secret to our Covid Christmas of 2020. We can’t do anything much so we might as well not do much of anything at all.
And if there is a relative, friend or neighbour who might not have many people around them or who needs a little kindness, we can be good to them as well.
Eat drink and be merry. This weird year is about to end and if we can be sure of anything, we can be sure that there are better times ahead for us all.
