Survival tactics - Fat and Jolly

Is there a Point to this?

We followed a make-shift sign to the town centre today because it proclaimed in one word (Kerst) that Xmas lay in that direction. I am not a big fan of the commercialisation of a pseudo-religious festival that may or may not have occurred some time ago but we do love a party! So off we went, drawn directly like moths with tunnel vision heading down a real tunnel with a light at the end of it, desperately seeking, whatever it is they seek from light bulbs. What did they do before Edison? Were they attracted by very brightly coloured objects and clothing? Check out the Discovering channel for that.

Xmas has changed. The new sounds of Xmas overtook us before the sight of it floored us completely. Avoiding the normal psycho cycle traffic with our extraordinarily well developed ninja style leaping, twisting and spinning technique learned at tango classes, we came across a wonderous site.

The ice rink was well populated by small children racing and piroetting as easily as the wind whistles around the trees. They were accompanied by the occassional teenager who had clearly reached competive level. We also saw the odd chain of adults who had finally consumed enough courage in the adjoining bar /cafe to enable them to hurtle around repeatedly finding the edges of the arena and the floor. Some were foolishly trying to sweep away small children that had strayed into their path but were failing miserably. This was mainly due to the difference between youthful energetic litheness and agility, compared to bloated figures, slow reactions and great unsteadiness.

All this was accompanied by the less traditional music of today in NL. That's what I Call a Headache 2008! It was accompanied by a bass line that sought to change the fairly regular beat of my soft heart. It felt like I was in a microwave beam that was cooking me from the inside out or at least jiggling things about a bit. Anatomically most uncomfortable.

There was also an inflatable slide show going on in one corner of the square. This was a number of inflatable slides for kiddies, surrounded by jolly Xmas characters dressed up in different guises and interacting with the children. All this was pleasant and cheery enough, as long as you dismiss the thought that it is an ideal job for kiddie ticklers in this apparently liberal country. Not helped by the sight of fake snow being ejected over the scene in short bursts from a machine placed next to the mobile toilets.

We went over to the photo opportunity tent which had captured some of these characters dressed in cartoon guise. Now, in my mind, cartoon characters were normally cute little furry animals that had taken on the human persona of a cheeky mischievious child. That seemed a long time ago now. These characters were straight out of a Japanese nightmare version of Clockwork Orange and they were over 2m tall. Most of the children would have been a small snack for them. They had strange Japanese names that meant nothing to me but it would continually trigger my internal 'anagram solving' reflex, creating less bizarre but equally scarey results.

We took refuge in our regular cafe for some good coffee and to re-establish some level of normality. It was better but the bass line that penetrated all things, made the cups rattle and vibrate so much that they were in danger of trundling off the table. Undaunted we sat firm and watched the people outside interact with the bizarre scene unfolding before them. The younger ones were completely at home with this event but the older ones moved quickly away with their brains overloaded, having tried and failed to rationalise the event and images flashing around them.

The in-betweenies (neither young nor old) were the most interesting they could almost bridge both views inside their little heads, with one side momentarily gaining the advantage and then suddenly losing it to the other side. This battle of the interior psyche was taking place all over the square and was concentrated on the parents that wanted to be seen as cool and trendy but really wanted to scream wildly and run away.

An epiphany! That's why Santa Claus is so apparently jolly. He is caught on the uncomfortable reindeer horns of a dilemma, much worse than sitting on a Barbie fence beyond his Ken. He is the keeper of Xmas, the fat figurehead and its getting away from him. The poor old guy. Its changing so far out of his control that he is unsure who he is and what he should do, so he just stands there in his crib and is seen to be gettin' jolly with it. He is hoping that something on the magical roundabout of innocent illusions will come round again. Something he can recognise and grab on to. Then and only then, he can jump aboard. Here he will find someone to guide his sleigh tonight. In contrast, all he can see here are people who may slay his guide today.

This brought me to the conclusion that 'fat and jolly' is a deliberate survival technique because you are too fat and unfit to run or to fight. This is despite the triggering of the 'fight or flight' instinct caused by imminent aggression or simple confrontation. So you have no choice but to be engraciating and 'jolly'. Keep this in mind when you confront an olde fat bloke. He has to be jolly to you, its a law of nature, but be careful. If you do confront a fat old person and they are not exhibiting signs of being 'jolly' you could be in trouble. He could be concealing something and I don't mean the undulating layers of fat up his jump suit or the spare pies and chocolate bars in his bulkging pooches. No, he may have another more sinister secret.

One thing to dismiss is that he is unlikely to be royalty. I mention this because it is a well known historically proven fact that kings and queens can be fat and grumpy but are stll able to defend themselves. That's because they pay other people to look out for them. Therefore, they can respond quickly (over-react) to confrontation by delegating an extreme response to a large team of younger fitter psychotic natured underlingers (army), who will pursue you to the end of all time and beat the crap out of you, just for fun. Historical lesson learned; Avoid confronting royals, where possible.

The true secret of fat old grumpy persons is that this is their true nature coming through and this could mean that you do not intimidate them enough or at all. Now don't be discouraged. This is no reflection on your abilities and all the efforts you and possibly your family have made in this direction. It could be that this person has seriously underestimated your powers or overestimated their own. Both could be true. Unfortunately, if they don't back down then this has the potential to lead to a fight. Avoid this at all costs. I will need to cover this for you in a master class topic entitled 'How to fight with older, crippled or weaker people and retain some level of credability as a sentient human being'.

The worst case scenario is that your chosen adversary has been dodging death for some time and no longer fears its sting. This type will see you as some form of mercy killing figure sent to end their torment. These people are easily discouraged but occasionally one will follow you home and plead with you through the letterbox. Call the authorities or the professionals. You are out of your depth here.

The most likely scenario you will face is that this fat and less than jolly adversary has a secret weapon concealed on his person or in the surrounding area in the form of a) a pointy stick b) a can of mace or mustard gas (depending on age of person) c) his old army revolver, which will probably blow up in your face and kill you both d) a large dog e) a large relative with a large dog and a stick. Best to disarm the situation quickly with a big smile and a bit of friendly banter.

Lessons learned; Remember now, if you are ever cornered by something or someone more scary than you and you see no way to escape, just be everso jolly. Good luck with that. Ho, ho, ho! y'all!