December 21, 2011 by vinylburns
Merry Christmas Grifters,
I love this time of year, especially down here in summery New Zealand.
I used to kind of dread the claw of “Ice Xmas” eve caressing my nervous, sweaty back through the binds of a jolly and awful asbestos cardigan.
Now I live far enough from Aunt Florentine that I never have to wear her appalling garments in public again… Let alone feel the need to over dress so it takes longer for her to mentally undress me under the flickering glower of her raging hot, smokey fire place.
Christmas for Vinyl Burns, these days, includes a gentle build up of small dinner parties, online shopping for my virtual buddies, and real world shopping for people I actually know, celebrities I have yet to offend and who aren’t douchebags, as well as an assortment of random disenfranchised clowns.
Christmas aches from long summer days flitting between sunlight and sunshade… “Sunlight” being the unfiltered blast of the nuclear angst in the ozone cleansed Antipodean sky. The shade, being that of Pohutukawa trees, where the still frozen summer breeze cuts through a man, penetrating the depths of the swimsuit department and delivering a premature boxing day sale: Up to 30% off men’s tackle and other recreational supplies.
This is the summer we have…
…so this is the summer we love.
So our treasured Christmas resides nonchalantly within these extremes of climate and expectation.
Nestled between pine dust and sand storms, we desperately and synthetically emulate a snowy northern season, while staunchly battling the acceptance that our actual summer isn’t much better.
I’m Vinyl Burns, and I’m a New Zealander.