|"Andy 'Mister Christmas' Park."|
For the past 7,500 days - through a technological dawn, global recession, and countless English embarrassments at major football tournaments, 50-year-old electrician, entertainer, and aspiring superstar Andy Park has celebrated Christmas Day, every day, at his home in Wiltshire in the United Kingdom; creating the self-titled moniker, 'Mister Christmas' in the process. After finishing his daily three hour workload, Andy lights the fire of his decoration adorned living room, dresses the tree glued upside down to his ceiling, posts himself a Christmas card through the letterbox, and then opens his pressie; personally wrapped the night before. Once the gifts are over with, he then indulges in what is an eventual daily total of fifty mince pies, one bottle of cherry, and a full roast dinner – trimmings and all; including Brussel sprouts. To top this all off, at 3:00pm - and as is customary in Britain, Mister Christmas views the Queen’s speech; a source of pride for pro-royalists, and ridicule for everyone else.
Andy's wacky yet highly original idea all began on a summers day in July, 1993. Returning home in the mental dumps - or maybe having failed in selling any fridge freezers, he decided to sooth his soul by recreating the glowing feel of the festive season. Decking the halls of his house, planting the tree - upwards and on the floor, at this point, and wrapping himself a little Christmas gift, he naturally enjoyed this sobering moment. Realising the power and beauty limited to December the 25th, Andy decided to repeat this day, every day; as well as promote his media career and yearly self-produced Christmas single, around this new gimmick – his ambition still remains to achieve a Christmas number one, and work with Cliff Richard, as you do.
|"A present for life!"|
Naturally, a story as unique and obscure as this has been a constant subject of ridicule, and it is hardly difficult to poke logical holes in Andy's extravagant Christmas claims. If two decades spent eating 300,000 mince pies, 7,500 Turkeys and Christmas Puddings, 30,000 roast potatoes, 50,000 Brussel sprouts, and downing over 20,000 bottles of alcohol hasn't left him morbidly obese - which it hasn't, then surely an expense bill in excess of £1,000,000 for an electrician who works three hours a day; I guess back-handers for fitting washing machines are much larger then realised, would leave him pretty destitute. Beyond all this, the gift of celebrating Christmas groundhog day style could only come at the price of his sanity; leaving him hearing the sound of bells jingling, the same way a life-time prisoner hears a baton clashing against metal. This is also without taking into account the hours of preparation work needed for the food, and why he needs to light a fire in the middle of a hot summer anyway?
Ultimately, the assumptions of Andy fabricating the entire story; purely to promote a floundering desire for fame - are hard to argue against. Personally, however, even if part inspiration/part commercial ambition - much like the story of Santa Clause - the actual truth simply doesn’t matter. Whether an elaborate call to draw attention to himself, or a genuine act of sheer lunacy, it is one of those wonderfully eccentric English, and to a lesser degree, human stories; which at this time of year is worth celebrating, not criticising. He isn't hurting anybody, and for two decades has tirelessly worked to keep the myth alive, as well as a relevant career as an entertainer. He is dedicated to the core, and loyal to his cause; a lesson many possessing greater levels of fame could learn from. Besides all this, he seems like a genuinely nice guy, promoting a message that life needs to engage itself much more in fun mode; a motion I second to the full.
During the festive period of December, there is something uniquely cool – in a kitsch type manner, about Andy 'Mister Christmas' Park. For every one of the other eleven months, however - much like Santa Clause, his story is as irrelevant as it is ridiculous, and about as believable too. But living in a land where cynicism has a habit of stamping on anything which draws a smile on the faces of the masses, maybe spreading a little silly festive cheer - while building a small name for himself in the process, isn't so crazy after all; the upside-down tree on the other hand, arguably merits at least one doctors signature.
Merry Christmas, Mister Christmas! This article by a random stranger, is my gift to you...
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