Gyles Brandreth’s Diary
Christmas is cancelled – so we’re celebrating another Christian festival
I have been to see a psychiatrist only once, but I am glad I did. He changed my life.
This was about 20 years ago, when I had lost my seat in Parliament and was feeling a bit down in the dumps. He gave me a set of rules to live by that he thought might help lift my spirits, and one of them was to ‘accept change’.
‘Don’t resist change,’ he counselled, ‘Embrace it. Change is the salt in the soup of life. It adds to the flavour. People say, “Don’t rock the boat,” but a little gentle rocking does you good.’
I followed his advice and, for me, it’s worked wonders. I am following it still, which is why, regardless of what the government is saying can or can’t be done this December, in the Brandreth household, we have decided to change the date of Christmas 2020.
There is a pandemic on. This really isn’t the time for taking unnecessary risks with extended family gatherings, is it? I say let’s embrace change and do things differently this year. No one knows for sure when Jesus was born anyway.
We have Christmas on 25th December only because it roughly coincides with the winter solstice. There are historical and biblical grounds for alternative dates and the one I’m opting for is 25th March. It’s the Feast of the Annunciation, but some authorities say the date marks Christ’s birth rather than his conception.
So that’s the Brandreth plan: a safer, happier family Christmas three months down the line, when spring is sprung, the hospitals aren’t so crowded and the vaccines that are currently just around the corner have had time to arrive and begin to work their magic. Simples, eh?
The psychiatrist I went to see was the best: Dr Anthony Clare – yes, the famous one from the radio programme In the Psychiatrist’s Chair. I have been reading his official biography, just published, written for the Merrion Press by two distinguished medicos from Trinity College, Dublin, Brendan Kelly and Muiris Houston.
They have done a grand job, capturing the charm and genius of Clare, who, from the mid-1970s onwards, demystified psychiatry both through his research and through his broadcasting. It’s the remarkable story of a remarkable man – one that ends sadly.
Clare (the father of seven children – ‘not because I am a Catholic,’ he told me, ‘because I like children’) died suddenly in Paris in 2007, aged only 64. Towards the end of his life, he became unhappy about the way he had used it. Because of his prolific radio and TV work, he feared he was judged as ‘lacking gravitas’. Like many brilliant broadcasters I have known (from Robin Day to Jeremy Paxman), he wondered at the last if he had wasted his life. All I can say is that he changed mine.
It’s because of Anthony Clare that I am in touch with Natalia Garibotto. Embracing change, I embraced Twitter and Instagram when they came along and Natalia is huge on both. You don’t know her? You should. She’s fun.
She is the 27-year-old Brazilian bikini model who hit the headlines recently when Pope Francis (who is also on Twitter and Instagram) ‘liked’ a saucy photograph of Natalia, skimpily clad and sporting a bare behind.
The Vatican quickly explained that it must have been one of His Holiness’s social-media team who inadvertently pressed the ‘like’ button on his Instagram account, but if it was the pontiff himself he needn’t feel ashamed. Natalia is a good Catholic girl who (she tells me via Twitter) always says her prayers and never goes too far.
If you’ve not yet tried Twitter, give it a go. When you’re next allowed to see them, one of your grandchildren will show you how. Natalia and the Pope have millions of followers. I have just 111,000, but then I’ve always been a quality-overquantity man. When you’ve joined Twitter, follow me on @Gylesb1. Tell me you’re an Oldie reader and I promise to follow you back.
As you can tell, I am loving the new technology. It’s even led me to open my own online shop. I am calling it Gyles Brandreth’s Old Curiosity Shop. It’s not yet in the Jeff Bezos Amazon league, but the principle is the same. You come to my shop online, see if you like what I’ve got to offer, buy it and, soon after, it’s delivered to your door.
At the moment, I am just selling my own books (all autographed), but I am being encouraged to add personalised mugs and tea towels to the range. I have a fun mug in the pipeline that features a picture of me and the great Roger Moore on one side and, on the other, an ad that I spotted at the local chemist: ‘Try Viagra. It won’t make you Sean Connery but it might make you Roger Moore.’
I am hoping Pope Francis might ‘like’ that.