Grumpy old man?

Everyone is familiar with the grumpy old man. You know who he is, a bloke of "a certain age" forty going on fifty with a bit - or a lot - of grey and maybe a bald head who just moans and groans about everything.

I am a grumpy old man. I am also proud of being one, in the same way that my darling wife is proud of being a crone.

What do I moan about? I moan about my idiot children who have decided that smoking is a cool thing to do. I moan about the way big business has no room for the little person and how there is no real concept of personal service any more unless it's the service of sycophants that expect to be paid for the honour. I moan about shitheads like Robert Mugabe or those blasted Chinese who commit genocide upon Tibetans and who are ignored because the west loves to wear Nike shoes. I moan about the duplicity of governments who have elected officials who refuse to obey the will of the people that elected them. I moan about religion that pollutes the minds of people so much that they would kill innocent children in the name of their useless gods.

Secretly however, deep inside, I am happy. I am happy that I am fortunate enough to be able to feed my idiot children, even if they don't appreciate it yet. I am happy that I have my health and that I have a very low probability that someone will stick a gun in my face in the near future. I am happy that I can vote for my officials even if I know that they still won't really do what I want them to.

I sincerely hope that wherever you are, even if you're a grumpy old sod like me, that you can enjoy this mid-winter festival free from oppression, hunger and looming death. If you can't, rest assured that I am thinking of you and wish that things could be different for you.

Merry Yuletide.