I’m an optimist but I’m not hopeful for 2021

Christmas means many different things to New Zealanders. For some it is a religious time, although 49 per cent of us profess no religion, according to the 2018 census. Although most religious practitioners are Christian (37 per cent of the population), over 6 per cent of us are Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Sikhs, or Muslims so presumably the birth of the son of the Christian God has no real significance for them.

For others Christmas is simply summer holidays, the end of education for a while, and a chance to relax at the beach and to get together with family. That is a big part of the experience of growing up in New Zealand and is in direct contrast to the experience of the UK and the northern hemisphere.

As a kid, I could never understand why Christmas cards – remember them? – always seemed to feature Santa and reindeer in the snow, biblical scenes featuring snow, and other images with a wintery feel.

When my wife and I sent out Christmas cards – a while ago now – we deliberately used cards with New Zealand summer scenes on them – like the po¯ hutukawa in full bloom or activities at the beach. Or we used cards from the foot and mouth painters.

Now we send and receive only a few and then only for ageing relatives and friends who struggle with the internet. Otherwise, it’s an email Christmas newsletter, sometimes dispatched in mid-January.

The relative ease of communicating now means we are in touch with people important to us frequently during the year. The end-of-year missive is more of a summary than a catch-up.

Many of us will have tales of our weird and eccentric relatives and funny incidents on Christmas Day.

Our English friend Chris, with whom my wife and I shared a flat in London in the 1980s, had lost both his grandfathers but he still had two grandmothers, whom he described as blind grannie and deaf grannie.

The pair knew each other well and got along easily. Deaf grannie would describe the images on TV, and blind grannie would repeat the dialogue louder for the other. Two sherries in, it was a comedy show.

When I was a lad, we gathered with my mother’s sisters and their husbands. Christmas dinner was always at lunchtime after drinks and present opening. It was almost always a roast, usually lamb, served with potatoes and peas from my father’s garden, with cauliflower boiled to a sludge but served with white sauce.

This was followed by fruit salad and trifle, pavlova and jelly, and the old people would have a nap afterwards. Nowadays everything is different – food, timing, format. I welcome the changes.

Shortly after Christmas there is New Year, which brings its own dangers: notably new year resolutions, which may be boldly and confidently made but rarely last beyond the first month.

My resolutions typically look like the ones I made last year, pursued with not much enthusiasm for a while and then let lapse. These are things like lose some weight, get more exercise, take up yoga. Nothing too challenging and certainly nothing life changing, such as switching jobs, learning a new language, or going overseas (fat chance of that these days).

There is a particular danger this year. Many people have already proclaimed in various media and other forums how pleased they will be to see the end of 2020. I get the point. It is a mistake to think that at a point in time the material situation somehow changes. It doesn’t, and you are deluding yourself to think so.

There will not be more or fewer Covid cases on January 2 than there were on December 30. Trump will still be the legal president of the US. The summer sales will still be on.

Cricket will still be played. A travel bubble has not suddenly arrived. Businesses large and small throughout the country are variously thriving, striving, and struggling. Much of Europe is still in some form of lockdown, although the Brexit deadline will have come and gone with goodness knows what outcome and consequences.

It may give you comfort that the calendar year has ended, but before you make whoopee, specify what has changed for the better with the calendar now showing January 2021. I’ll wager there’s not much that is different, and probably even less that is better.

I think much of 2021 will be like 2020; uncertain and potentially dangerous. It will still be hard to know what to do for the best. When will we get the Covid vaccine? Will it work without side effects and unforeseen consequences? Myriad questions and no clear answers. That’s my prediction and I am an optimist. Good luck and best wishes.

Deaf grannie would describe the images on TV, and blind grannie would repeat the dialogue louder for the other. Two sherries in, it was a comedy show.