Christmas advert round-up

The festive season is now well and truly upon us, and this is reflected in the plethora of advertisements currently playing out across our television screens. Below are three of my favourites from this year (and a bonus one from three years ago), collected together in one place for your enjoyment.

I am thinking of starting up my own version of the Golden Lion awards which I plan to judge by a combination of public voting and my own internal festive-o-meter. And so, these are also the official entries for the inaugural Golden Reindeer awards. Voting is open! 

Merry Christmas, ho! ho! ho!, and all that...

An Ode to Procrastination Seizing the Moment 

One day, I promise you we'll wake up near the sea, 
We'll catch the sun together and then we'll set it free, 
For every kiss you give me, I'll give you roughly three, 
If not today, then tomorrow when? 

One day, I promise you we will smile and shout and sing, 
I will learn to appreciate even the smallest thing, 
We will wait, together, to see what the new dawn brings, 
If not today, then tomorrow when? 

One day, I promise we'll be back where we belong, 
There'll be so much right, we won't care about the wrong, 
I'll write a few stories, maybe even compose a song, 
If not today, then tomorrow when? 

One day, I promise this will all be in the past, 
We'll make the bad times vanish and the good times last, 
Every minute will be a party and every day will be a blast, 
If not today, then tomorrow when? 

One day, I promise we'll be grinning from ear to ear, 
The sky will be baby blue and the road ahead will be clear, 
We'll chase Passion with a vengeance, and stick a tongue out at Fear, 
If not today, then tomorrow when? If not today, then tomorrow when?

And the single most important question is this: Do you know Him? 

Men, 
they humiliate themselves on a daily basis. 
Sometimes, in little, private ways- 
like when they extend 
an arm in greeting, 
with no intention of making 
an honest connection. 
At other times, in bigger, more public ways- 
like when they raise 
an arm in aggression. 
And every once in a while, 
in unforgivable ways- 
like when their arms hang limply 
by their sides, 
and they cower 
in between comfortable folds 
of silence.

Flight of the Concorde

Over the past few weeks, with the days gradually getting colder and shorter, it has been proving more difficult than usual to haul my creaking body outdoors to keep up with my running. Despite constant reminders of the ultimate goal, the prospect of stepping out first thing on a wet morning has been enough to test even my strongest resolve. 

It was while I was in the midst of this autumnal languor, sliding dangerously down the slope towards complete decrepitude, that I first saw it. I had been always been aware of its presence, and even caught fleeting glimpses of it from out of the car window while driving to the airport, but I had never really seen it, or stopped for long enough to fully take it in. So, when I finally saw it (or is it her?) properly the other day, I was filled with a sense of awe and admiration. There it was, seemingly glowing in what was left of the late afternoon sun- a Concorde. 

Most people know the story of Concorde; the world's first aircraft to transport passengers at supersonic speeds. Only 20 of these planes were manufactured, and for 27 years they flew proudly across the skies before being retired from service in 2003. My own memories of Concorde stretch back to when I was about three years old, when I mainly scurried into the house in a somewhat panic-stricken fashion every time one of these magnificent machines flew by on its way to touch-down in Heathrow. The classic, unmistakeable curves and the full-blooded roar of the engines are still lodged somewhere in the cracks and crevices of the mind. 

As I looked at it now, silent but still just as majestic, I was reminded of what is possible when ambition and hard work intersect. This was a plane that many thought would never get off the ground, yet today it stands proud as testament to human endeavour; a reminder that greatness is always within reach if you strive hard enough to get there. 

Most other days, I might have just cast an admiring glance at it and kept going; but that day, for the first time it became a symbol of something much bigger. With winter just around the corner, I'll take all the inspiration I can get.

Sometimes I feel too heavy.
I keep piling things into myself; thoughts, secrets, observations, until I think I might be close to bursting.

I’ve never burst.

Instead I just push them down further, try to compact them, make some room for new things to enter. But you can’t keep piling strings of secrets together without them getting tangled, and there’s so many knots inside me now that removing even just one thread will pull the rest of them along for the ride. I’ll be the clown at the carnival, pulling handkerchief tied to handkerchief out of my coat pocket, a smirk on my face."You didn’t think I could hold all of this inside of me did you?"

Well trust me,
I can.

PS: Thank you to Erin Hanson for sending me this. You can read more of her beautiful work here.

The fish that swam upside-down

There was once a fish in my grandma's tank, 

who always swam upside-down; 

For a while, if I'm completely frank, 

I thought he was trying to be a clown. 

But then with each passing week, 

I watched him struggle to stay up straight; 

I imagined him feeling like a freak, 

In his little corner, far from his mates. 

Over time, it seemed he'd accepted his lot, 

And did his best to not feel bereft; 

He would swim valiantly to the feeding pot, 

But there was often nothing left. 

Then, little fish, he grew weak and tired, 

And his little heart beat towards its end; 

But still it looped and bobbed as required, 

without a hope, or chance, or friend. 

And then one day there it lay, 

sideways in the golden sand; 

I found myself blinking tears away, 

As we scooped it in our hand. 

I sometimes think of that little fish, 

upside-down, whether by choice or circumstance; 

and when I do, I can't help but wish- 

that somewhere he's smiling and doing a dance. 

Being seen as 'different' can often hurt, 

It can be a blessing but is often a curse; 

But when I picture that fish, there in the dirt- 

I know that being alone is so much worse.