It wasn’t always like this. Only recently, in fact only around half an hour ago, the house reverberated to the sounds of Michael Buble and Christopher Cross, with sweet festive tunes. But my sons are not little boys anymore. After the slowest present distribution in world history by son number two, we are now “enjoying” the sound of Pitbull.
At the risk of making a complete fool of myself, I dared to ask just who Pitbull was. The only pit bulls I knew were a certain breed of dangerous dog and the former England rugby player Brian Moore. Very quickly, I realised that this particular Pitbull was a rapper and, I am told, the best rapper of them all. Well, I’m getting ever closer to my bus pass, assuming that a) I live that long and b) bus passes still exist by then, but I confess that he’s rather good.
You are still more likely to hear Toto belting from my music centre than a rapper from Miami, Florida but I refuse to become one of those old people who assert that music is shit nowadays compared to how it used to be. The simple answer to that is simple: nothing has changed. There is still great music and shit music.
Just look at the 1970s, which was one of the great decades of music history. Amongst the greatness was also Mouldy Old Dough, Grandad and Agadoo. For every Clash classic was dross from Queen. The more things change, the more they stay the same.
You could ask what on earth Pitbull has to do with Christmas? For me, Christmas is what you want it to be. For 28% of the population, there is a religious significance, for me – and I suspect many others – it’s all about being with my family and friends and remembering those who are no longer with us. And increasingly, I think of my dad who left us almost six years ago. I have no memory of ever spending Christmas with him. I can’t regret something over which I have zero control, but I know I missed out on something very special. For as long as my heart beats, I will never, ever want to be away from my sons who mean the world to me.
The fact that my boys have taken over in the house, decorating it throughout with the random socks, shoes, coins, empty beer bottles, laptops and general rubbish, just makes it better. And if I have to live without Buble and with Pitbull for a short period of my life, then so be it!
