My changing perspective of Christmas over the years

We all remember when we were kids and looked forward to Xmas all the way since January. Aah..the smell of bright new clothes, the aroma of exquisite meals being made, the rather predictable overfeeding and the unavailable trips and vigils at the loo. Xmas was a time of excesses, many of which we consoled ourselves that we had to kick back and relax for the struggles of the year. Oh man, it was heaven. The at first we’d all look forward to going for church, which was more of a subtle fashion contest on who had the best clad. Then in my church they’d give us diabetes-inducing servings of candy, biscuits and everything sweet. Anyway, over the years things changed. The teenage years and their overbearing puberty and hormone issues came. Church was more of a punishment than church (for lack of a better grammar-Nazi friendly term). Some of my age mates had an existential crisis. Some couldn’t publicly assert their new beliefs and had to bear with blunt sermons, sitting there and dreaming of the meat and chapati (a type of flat pan made bread here in Kenya). At times feeling remorse for the goat which had almost become a pet. Oh boy,those who turned atheists, I wonder of they ever felt any indeferrent. Anyway, years rolled by and Christmas became more different. I went went to boarding school where we were mercilessly pumped with alot of information but little knowledge. December was the long a** break we all needed. Not to sound gangsta but yeah, I picked up some slang. Anyway, years rolled on and at times I’d even forget it was Christmas until I saw the conspicuous lights all over town, which was mostly a week or so to Xmas, because I was mostly on a self-imposed house arrest, with a truckload of TV series on DVD to watch. I’d only get excited about the food and the prospects of getting some merry handouts thrown to me. Money which by New Year’s Day would have mysteriously disappeared. Probably from the sweaty mass hyped and alcohol laden parties we’d sneak to, where hormones were in free roam. Then when I was 17 I kind of went into a personal Renaissance. I started doing serious bedroom producing, got to learn to work some DJ decks, got into the whole EDM frenzy and life was really cool. After a while I really started exploring the Internet (yes perverts, have a blast here). I ended up going into Trance music. Actually I think I fell into it. Man, it’s the sweetest most insane thing ever. The music just connects to the soul. Enough philosophy-grade speeches. Then I discovered the Afterhours FM End of year mixes popularly called the EOYC. Almost 3 weeks of nothing but the best trance nonstop. That was the final nail in my trance coffin. I would always look towards the end of year mixes. From 12th December onwards it was me and my computer and a ton of coffee (darn timezones). Some mixes would start at 4am and I’d stay in and wait for them. That became my Christmas. I would celebrate my trance Xmas for a while 3 weeks. It is madness I tell you. And along came a hoard of free tracks, remixes and bootlegs. Sitting on a chair with a hundred tabs of artist pages constantly refreshing for any new freebies became my morning routine. And I never regretted it at any moment. Now every year I look forward to Christmas, cheerfully dragging myself through a boring year for the 3 weeks of heaven. God bless the chap who invented Xmas, and the Internet. Anyway, yet again it’s free track giveaway season, known by boring people as Christmas. Gotta rush and grab some tunes….see you when Xmas is over. Have a festive season with your lights and expensive lights you’ll probably throw away on the 26th


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s