As a fully paid-up member of the Bah Humbug Brigade, I’ve found Christmas past particularly depressing. The storm clouds formed around mid-October on visiting a local store and learning Santa Claus was coming to town. As Christmas was still ten weeks away, he must have been coming courtesy of CalMac and ScotRail.

From the beginning of November, sections of the media began to raise fears, or in my case, hope, that Christmas would be “cancelled”. At a time when people’s lives were being turned upside down, cancelling the Christmas consumer-fest seemed a commendably good idea.

The prime minister however, is a bit like an Old English sheepdog that likes its head patted. Tabloid headlines proclaiming “Boris Saves Christmas” gave him the equivalent of a tummyrub. The First Minister, also very aware of the potential fallout, delayed the introduction of further restrictions until Boxing Day. The elves had tipped her the wink that Omicron was waging a phony war until Christmas was over.

As a result, more people than necessary have been infected, some have been hospitalised and some might even die. But hey, it’s been worth it. We’ve had a wonderful time exchanging overpriced tat, eating and drinking to excess and infecting one another.

North and south of the border Covid offered an open goal to cut back on Christmas and revert to simpler times. Older readers may share my memories of a time when Christmas was not the bloated excess that encapsulates our current misplaced values and priorities.

My father, who worked in a factory, never had Christmas Day or Boxing Day off until he retired. For the great majority of Scots, they were normal working days. Money was tight and gifts were low key. I still prize the Scottish Football Books of the late 1950s, edited by Hugh Taylor of the Record which, at 12/6 (62½p), represented my highest value gift. According to the Telegraph newspaper, the most popular children’s toy for Christmas 2021 was the top of the range L.O.L. Surprise! Movie Magic Studio, a snip at £130. At number five was the Magic Mixies’ Magic Cauldron at a mere £70.

I know distance and time lend enchantment, but I don’t remember feeling deprived or disappointed with what was in my Christmas stocking. I wasn’t any different from my pals. We were more content because we hadn’t been exposed to the barrage of sophisticated advertising that blights modern day Christmases.

For weeks if not months, advertisers sell an idolised vision of Christmas. Their “magic” Christmas is essentially a cruel, romanticised con that emphasises the growing gap between the haves and have nots in present-day Scotland.

I feel heart sorry for parents who had to explain to youngsters why they couldn’t have the expensive toys seen on TV. Some have probably gone into debt to avoid having disappointed children on their hands. Food adverts depicting tables groaning with turkey and other treats serve only to underline the widening gulf between rich and poor.

Scotland’s foodbanks, such as Glasgow South East, helped an increased number of families that otherwise would have gone hungry at Christmas. What was once a last resort has become a front-line service. Removal of the temporary £20 uplift to Universal Credit has made things even harder for those in need.

Damnably, much of the festive tat and additional food ends in the bin. As some go hungry, the better off seem determined to buy ever more festive food, much of which is wasted; 17.2 million binned sprouts is more than a straw in the wind.

How can waste on that scale be justified when a few miles away families are relying on food banks? Christmas waste is scandalous. We should be needled that 16,000 Christmas trees don’t find their way into recycling. Glitter-covered cards can’t be recycled but are still produced.

Much has been said and written about the need for a post-Covid reset. Christmas would be as good a place to start as any. To get the ball rolling, may I be the first to wish you a merry little Christmas for 2022? With the emphasis on little.

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