Ho, bloody, Ho...

Christmas is always a good time in Stratford. By good I mean weird and that’s good because I enjoy weird, especially at Christmas. It brightens up what can be a long and tortuous holiday. In Stratford it’s after the celebrations when it all turns nasty. After the pudding (so to speak) when the recriminations start.
You can forget all that goodwill towards all men stuff, Post-Christmas in Stratford usually ends up a battleground of angry shopkeepers all blaming various arms of the dear old Town Council for causing a black hole in their expected profits. One year the Town Council got it in the neck for closing off one of the main streets (Bridge Street) for Carol singing! According to many of the traders this caused a drop in income because people i.e. customers weren’t able to park their cars and had to (wait for it)…walk, which in turn caused them to shop elsewhere. For once I felt sorry for the Town Council.
Every year they try to do the right thing. And every year it just doesn’t seem to come off. No matter how great the efforts they make to light up the Town in the appropriate manner someone, somewhere cries…Bah Humbug. Mind you, sometimes one can’t help but wonder at the methods used to ensure everyone enjoys themselves.
Take the efforts of the mysterious organisation ‘The Christmas Lights Committee’.
An unhappy body of men and women whose sole purpose is to raise the much needed dosh to literally light up the Town. Unfortunately, after the light comes the darkness. Threats from The Christmas Lights Committee to ‘name and shame’ those stores who didn’t donate to the fund doesn’t really help. One year there was even talk of not illuminating those areas where the shops who didn’t contribute operated from. And so it goes on. The excitement mounts. And talking of excitement, I’ve managed to find the programme for Christmas 1998, a vintage year I’m sure you’ll agree. I can’t wait to see who they get to switch on the lights this Christmas.