A summer memory?

Strange Goings-On in Northern Ireland

It was 23rd July 2004. The weather was not exactly what you might hope for at this time of year. It was cool and showery. Any suntans to be observed could come only from bottles or from holidays abroad – if, that is, anyone could bear to bare enough flesh to show their bronzed skin off in the chilly breeze. Nothing so unusual about that, though: I mean, the summer of 2003 was the unusual one, with its long hot sunny days, al-fresco parties, packed beaches, and barbecues held outdoors rather than on the edges of someone’s garage in a gale and horizontal rain.

But there were sinister things afoot – things about which the average citizen should feel worried. Very worried.

It all started on the evening of 22nd July. Driving along Eglinton Street, Portrush, in wintry rain around 10pm, I observed some twinkling coloured lights to my left on Main Street. Oh, Christmas lights, I thought, driving on… when suddenly, with the kind of lurch you get when your driving instructor tells you that when he hits the dashboard he wants you to STOP! as though a child had just run out in front of the car, I thought it again. Christmas lights! But hold on – it may look like a December afternoon out there… but it’s July!

Putting it down to an economy measure (decorations for the Milk Cup being made out of the lights they never quite got around to taking down in January), I thought no more of it. Imagine my shock, then, the following morning... walking into Woolworth's to be greeted by a large table of tinsel, baubles, angels, reindeer… many shades of green and red and every kind of gold and silver. Summer sales, I suppose. Still. Coincidental.

I moved on up the street to Eason’s, in search of “Private Eye” and a birthday card. Wandering around, half-mesmerised by the displays, reading a headline here, a back-cover blurb there… background music barely making an impact. Until… something that sounded familiar but strangely incongruous began. No, I thought; surely not. Surely it can’t be. Surely it’s incredulous, almost wishful thinking. But it was. That man was actually singing “Mary’s Boy Child.” I felt like Victor Meldrew. The surreal thing was, though – no-one else seemed to notice anything strange. “And man will live, for ever more, because of Christmas Day.” At top volume. On 23rd July. I was standing at the “Just Published” shelf, convulsed with laughter… and yet none of the other shoppers seemed to find anything odd. It was at this point that I began to believe in the conspiracy.

Deciding to research this a bit further, I phoned a contact in Belfast, who had been in the city centre that day. Innocently, I asked if there had been any interesting goings-on in the metropolis. “Yes, now that you mention it – actually, Santa was giving out presents from a sack outside the City Hall.” Santa. Presents. July. Now entirely convinced that the conspiracy wasn’t just an imaginary one, I ventured to Sainsbury’s for the weekly shop. And there it was. Amid the cereal bars and the cereal-topper nuts and raisins: a brand-new, conspicuous display of “Christmas Spices for Mulled Wine.” A few aisles along, just beyond the “Back to School” stationery and the disposable barbecues, I spotted children’s wash-mitts in the shape of Santa Claus himself, which played “Jingle Bells” at the press of a button. Thinking back – only that afternoon I had seen a discussion of Christmas decorations on a house-sales programme on daytime television, while several nights before, a Christmas episode of “Ally McBeal” had been repeated on one of the many Sky channels.

As it all became almost too much, I began to wonder about “Keep Christmas in December” campaigns. If only. A campaign to keep Christmas out of the Summer Holidays seems more appropriate nowadays. Or does it? With suburban life what it is, if I were to put my Christmas tree up tomorrow, lights and all, would it prompt my neighbours to do likewise? Perhaps we should celebrate Christmas in August, and get it over with? Has the world gone mad? There seems to be a whole new meaning to the well-known song, “Oh I wish it could be Christmas every day…” In fact, I’m expecting to hear it next time I go shopping.

Warnings about climate change and global warming have become commonplace this century. It’s certainly a surprise, though, to encounter Santa, tinsel, mulled wine and Christmas music right in the middle of the summer. Marketing strategy or merchandise misadventure – either way, it’s just a little sinister to feel the festive season lurking amid the suncream and the flip-flops.

I suppose there’s nothing for it. Time to book that Valentine’s Day lunch…

23-07-04