René Roberts

It was bound to happen. Completely inevitable. I take no responsibility. I was just browsing iTunes, minding my own business.

It was there.

I bought it.

My first Christmas album. I know. To top it off, it was Boney M. Yeah, I know.

Being the rational grown up that I am, I’ll work through this. I’ve overcome much worse in my life. I like to dig around my own psyche as much as I like to dig around others. I snap on the gloves, pinch my nose and dive into the messy debris. I do this to hunt around for reason.

Reason is a little bit like a toddler in a shopping mall. It gets lost in the blink of an eye unless you hold its hand tightly. So at times, you have to really go looking for reason. But trust me, it’s there. If you look for it long enough, you’ll find it. But don’t forget the protective gear, because it will be messy.

Me? I do it for fun. I’m edgy like that. I’m an accountant and my life is extremely exciting. So I went digging around for the reasoning behind my fateful purchase of Christmas with Boney M.

Boney M is to Christmas what turkey is to Thanksgiving.

Now, both of my readers are South African and we don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in this country. I normally have all the answers. Just ask my girlfriend. But why we don’t celebrate Thanksgiving here, I don’t know. I celebrate it on my own. When I take stock of my life and I notice that I have all that I could possibly want and need, it fills me with gratitude. Art, music, comedy, passion, colour, words, being adored and adoring. It all fills me with a deep sense of gratitude. No turkey needed. I digress.

So, back to Boney M. If someone told me even just a year ago that I would end up buying Christmas with Boney M on iTunes, I would have slapped them and cut them out of my life. Only old people listen to Boney M. Right? Well, I donned the gear and went hunting and without much trouble, I think I found the reason for buying this album.

Boney M sets a scene. I’m a very visual person. Just ask my girlfriend. It’s how my mind works.

When I hear Mary’s Boy Child I see my dad taking down that ancient silver box containing Christmas decorations hailing from an era when his mother was still young. The little drums had no more snares and the tiny gift boxes had been unwrapped years ago. Father Christmas had a dirty, scraggly beard and his hat was lost. His one eye was missing and so was one of his feet. He ended up looking more like a homeless person. In my childlike ignorance I didn’t want to tarnish our new Christmas tree with those ugly old decorations. In retrospect, I wish I had those same decorations in my possession today. The grandmother I never had the privilege of meeting, touched those ornaments once. My dad must have stared at them with a sparkle in his eye as a boy, wishing for shiny new things. I would adorn our Christmas tree with those ornaments with such pride and joy.

When I hear Little Drummer Boy I see my one brother proudly displaying the biscuits he baked for Christmas. He attached thread to it and he suggested we hang them on the tree. I simply wanted to eat them and my tiny little mind could not conceive of edible Christmas ornaments. So again, I wasn’t pleased with those biscuits hanging on our tree. Today, I wish I’d kept some. Even one. It would have a special place on our Christmas tree today. My brother baked those biscuits with such love and innocence.

Zion’s Daughter stirs up memories of food in abundance. All those treats that my Mom and Dad saved for special occasions. I can smell the gammon and see myself as a little girl, fishing for the glazed cherries in the dish. I can almost taste the trifle melting on my tongue. I see an entire display of more salads, meats and desserts than one person can choose from. Thinking about it now, I realize how much time, effort and money went into those special Christmas feasts.

Silent Night moves me like nothing else does. I see myself and my youngest brother lying down flat in front of our Christmas tree singing carols, staring at our neatly wrapped gifts. Our high pitched voices must have driven my poor mother insane. We are both tone deaf so I just know it couldn’t have been pretty. Today, I realize how tough it must have been for my parents to make ends meet. It must have been a balancing act of note, keeping four needy little children satisfied.

But they did.

I loved Christmas with my whole being. I still do. It’s a time of celebration, cheer, goodwill, joy and laughter. It’s the time to reminisce, to pay tribute to those not with us in the flesh but embedded in our hearts. It’s a time of giving and forgiving. It’s tinsel and sparkly and bright and exuberant.

Man, I truly love Christmas.

I have the Boney M album to prove it.

Do you?