Skip to main content

Yikes! Its the hare/bear bunch...

It must be Christmas – the big retailers have started releasing their TV adverts, with the sort of fanfare previously reserved for blockbuster movies.

Featuring levels of snowfall that would make the arctic look a bit slushy, cute children, perfectly formed snowpersonages and Christmas trees that were clearly decorated expensively by an interior designer (rather than your Mum after 4 glasses of sherry), the unrealistic on-screen perfection will have us all depressed long before we’ve even started wondering where we put the tinsel last January.

And then there’s that John Lewis advert, in which a sad little hare leaves a present for his bear friend, to make sure he joins him on Christmas day. As it’s not yet the season to be jolly, I thought it warranted a spot of closer analysis, because I actually DO have the lightness of spirit and joy of Scrooge with a hangover.

Firstly, it’s jaw-droppingly selfish of the hare to wake the bear up from his hibernation. I wouldn’t blame our grizzly chum for having the hare for lunch – literally. Which is what happens in the wild. Probably.

Last time I purchased an alarm clock (1981, I think it was) you could set the alarm to go off up to 12 hours ahead. Do JL now sell one that can wake you up on a specific day, several weeks away? And why would you want that anyway? I feel some unhappy customers will be citing the advert when bringing the phrase “Trades Description Act” into the conversation at the customer service desk in January.

Without opposable thumbs, how did the hare manage to wrap the present up, anyway? And where is he keeping the sticky tape and scissors? Maybe he used a gift wrapping service in store.

I believe a Public Enquiry is required to get to the bottom of how a large retail outlet came to be built on Watership Down, too. Unless the hare used a home-delivery service, but that raises all sorts of questions about postcodes for fields, and how he used the internet to place the order in the first place.

Did I miss it, or did the bear not get the hare anything? I suppose he could buy him a scary DVD, but allowing him to climb up on his back is probably hare-raising enough as it is.

Last year, the bear apparently got his friend a sandwich toaster, which turned out to be a really bad idea, as the hare didn’t check the dates on the packets of fillings he used, chucked several out of date ones in, and became seriously ill. When asked what happened, he told the bear he’d nearly died from “Mixingmetoasties”.

On the bright side, there should be plenty of things the bear can purchase in the Harecare section.

And if the alarm clock does turn out not to be the ideal gift, it can always be taken back to the store for a refund. He could choose something from the Bear Essential range instead.

This post first appeared as my 'Thank Grumpy it's Friday' column in the North West Evening Mail on the 15th of November 2013. You can read the version used by the newspaper here where it was retitled "Festive season must be near", thus depriving the paper's readership of my carefully crafted, 1970s cartoon-based, punning title.

It received a light edit before publication, dropping the last part of the 'bear eats hare' section. Interestingly, the paper also removed all references to John Lewis.
 

This column had an interesting genesis, as I saw the ad for the first time on my phone, on a train, just outside Reading. The novelty of having enough of a data signal was fairly startling (it almost never happens in Cumbria), and I thought the ad was great. My rather odd brain immediately started thinking of issues with it though, and this column got partly scrawled on a notepad on the fold-down tray of the train. I'm very high-tech like that.
(Compilation CD of the day: The No.1 Ska Album - Skanking!)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Making an exhibition of yourself

Now and again, it’s good to reaffirm that you’re a (relatively) normal human being. One excellent way of doing this is to go to a business exhibition. Despite what you might have surmised from reading my previous columns, I am employable, and even capable of acting like a regular person most of the time, even joining in the Monday morning conversation about the weather over the weekend, and why (insert name of footyballs manager here) should be fired immediately. The mug! True, there are times, often involving a caffeine deficiency, where it is like having the distilled essence of ten moody teenagers in the room, but I try and get that out of the way when people I genuinely like aren’t around to see it. As part of my ongoing experiment with what others call ‘working’, my ‘job’ involves me occasionally needing to go and see what some of my colleagues get up to outside the office, and what our competitors do to try and make sure that they do whatever my colleagues do better than ...

"It's all gone quiet..." said Roobarb

If, like me, you grew up (and I’m aware of the irony in that) in the ‘70s, February was a tough month, with the sad news that Richard Briers and Bob Godfrey had died. Briers had a distinguished acting career and is, quite rightly, fondly remembered most for his character in ‘The Good Life’. Amongst his many roles, both serious and comedic, he also lent his voice to a startling bit of animation that burst it’s wobbly way on to our wooden-box-surrounded screens in 1974. The 1970s seemed to be largely hued in varying shades of beige, with hints of mustard yellow and burnt orange, and colour TV was a relatively new experience still, so the animated adventures of a daft dog and caustic cat who were the shades of dayglo green and pink normally reserved for highlighter pens, must have been a bit of a shock to the eyes at the time. It caused mine to open very wide indeed. Roobarb was written by Grange Calveley, and brought vividly into life by Godfrey, whose strange, shaky-looking sty...

Suffering from natural obsolescence

You know you’re getting old when it dawns on you that you’re outliving technological breakthroughs. You know the sort of thing – something revolutionary, that heralds a seismic shift it the way the modern world operates. Clever, time-saving, breathtaking and life-changing (and featuring a circuit board). It’s the future, baby! Until it isn’t any more. I got to pondering this when we laughed heartily in the office about someone asking if our camcorder used “tape”. Tape? Get with the times, Daddy-o! If it ain’t digital then for-get-it! I then attempted to explain to an impossibly young colleague that video tape in a camcorder was indeed once a “thing”, requiring the carrying of something the size of a briefcase around on your shoulder, containing batteries normally reserved for a bus, and a start-up time from pressing ‘Record’ so lengthy, couples were already getting divorced by the time it was ready to record them saying “I do”. After explaining what tape was, I realised I’d ...