By TROY JONES
This year I decided to stop the bullshit.
Well, to be totally truthful, plenty still remains, but at least one bit has been crossed off the list, and, boy oh boy it felt good.
Year by year, the magnificent irony of a modern Aussie Christmas was growing on me. Not a religious person, I was celebrating the birth of the Son of God, 2013 years ago by hurriedly stocking up on endless piles of brightly coloured plastic crap, listening to tunes of snowy Christmas days whilst dreading the walk out of the shopping centre back to the carpark on a 43 degree Adelaide afternoon.
“I did decide to take a fresh look at the idea of giving and doing something for others.”
Drudging through crowded malls, behind an endless parade of people walking 10% of the speed I wanted to walk, muttering expletives to myself seems antithetical to the idea of Joy and Peace to the World. “Have I bought enough?” is the endless question. Does Charlie have as much as Matilda? I don’t know about you mums, but for Aussie dads, the volume of crap is just as important as the quality or price of the crap.
Arms full of Disney figurines, water pistols and t-shirts sewn by Chinese sweat shop children, I was fully supporting the thing I was railing against. I’d let myself off the hook by scoffing on my Facebook status at all the other suckers completely missing the point of Christmas. “Does Jesus recommend we shop at Big W?” was a classic zinger from 2013. Bahahaha. “Like”!! Now, as a dad of 2 young kids, I need to be clear with my advice here.