Round Robin

Dear Mum,

The presents have been opened and admired, the films have been watched, the hangover slept off, the turkey eaten and the waistband stretched.

All in all, I’d say 2011 was a good year for festive frivolities.

I am blogging to thank you for providing me with a ‘sample’ of Christmas cards to peruse. I do enjoy reading people’s tit-bits of news and updates.

You know that one of my favourite Christmas customs is reading the Round Robin letters that plague our yuletide joviality – I appreciate you positioning new ones by the kettle so I can read while making a brew.

These letters are dire, dismal and yet totally addictive for several key reasons.

Firstly, there is no personal message to this letter. It is very evident that fifty of these letters were printed out and stuffed into envelopes carelessly, with little regard for each family on the receiving end.

There is no thought of ‘How has the house move been?’, ‘How are your parents?’ or ‘What are your plans for 2012?’ Instead, these letters are riddled with reflections and social listings of the writers’ own lives.

Secondly, the type is invariably impossible to read. These letters take one back to the early noughties, when computers were still novel and all print-outs were written in Bradley Hand and Jokerman fonts. I find Comic Sans and Calibri adequate, thank you.

There are also always a few too many photos.

As pleased as we are that the five of you had a fabulous time in Singapore, we don’t need a picture of the family pretending to dive into the waters by the iconic Merlion statue. Nor one of Dad doing a similar pose by the pool in his Speedo. Vom.

The most bleak aspect of these letters, however, is the overload of details about personal lives. Never before has the phrase ‘too much information’ been used with such an acute relevance.

Particularly at our family home.

I am delighted that friends feel they can confide in our family of these details, although the fact that this is a Round Robin instantly reminds one that these same lines of tedious detail have been posted around the country.

I don’t regard these details as assisting in the strengthening of our relationship.

The Simpson family’s letter, for example, dedicated an entire paragraph to their jack russell, Molly. And although I am delighted that Hannah, their youngest daughter, and her boyfriend are wonderful dog-sitters, this has not enlightened my outlook on life or our blossoming friendship.

Similarly, Bill and Janet’s month by month summary 0f 2011 makes Molly’s subsection a lot more apealling. Take April, for example, when Bill was outraged that he couldn’t get his senior bus pass until a whole eleven months after his 60^th birthday!

Goodness, thank you for informing me of this. I can now accept that the world has truly gone off its rocker.

This was the same family whose letter two years before informed their list of Christmas card recipients that their daughter had had her warts frozen off.

This is wrong on so many levels. Wrong that this is newsworthy; wrong that this information is shared outside the confines of family; wrong that this message was typed up, meaning conscious action (as opposed to accidentally letting it slip over a tipsy cocktail); and totally wrong of parents to inform friends they haven’t seen for years of their poor daughter’s misfortune.

Shame on you.

I’d like to think that if I had any such hard luck you wouldn’t broadcast it to our nearest, dearest or distant acquaintances.

But I must confess I thoroughly enjoy these letters - simply because I love to gasp and snort at their sheer absurdity. Rather like when you put your finger in something unpleasant and can’t help but continuously sniff at it even though you know it makes you feel nauseous. Hours of entertainment.

But it does make one ask, what happened to the art of a personal letter? Although the build up to Christmas is always busy, a bit of extra time invested in writing a few lines on a Christmas card really does enter into the sentiments of goodwill. A handwritten paragraph giving a quick recap of the year’s events – or updates since you last saw the recipient – perhaps with a meet-up invite, this is thoroughly welcome.

Although I would miss the Round Robins should they stop... I look forward to hearing more about Molly, outrage at train fare prices and swapping a Saab for an Audi A3 in Christmas 2012 – but not before, please.