Today is St. George’s day – the patron saint of England. Now. You’d expect a barrage from me talking about how George was “never from England” and “not actually a saint” (both of which are true), but oh no. I’ll hold back.
My rant is on holidays.
Now, there are a list of holidays which I generally recognise. These are proper times off, and thus recognise them. Mainly it’s New Years, Christmas, Easter (or other religious equivalents) and all Bank Holidays. They’re proper holidays.
The second tier of holidays are “commercial”. These are days that have some event on them, which have been commercialized for card shops. This includes any day beginning with “Saint”, Halloween and “Earth Day”. Sure, whether or not I celebrate it depends on what day of the week they fall, and vary on a yearly basis.
Neither of these I really do mind though.
What I do mind is how certain people in certain industries cross over holiday boarders. I’m looking at you Mr. Kipling, and you Mr. Tesco.
Mr. Kipling, decided that we didn’t like eating mince pies at one point in the year, oh no. They’ve come up with “Easter Mince Pies”. They taste exactly the same, except they have a little pastry bunny rabbit on top, instead of a pastry holly leaf. They adorned the bargain bins in Tesco today, but with them were not Hot Cross Buns. Oh No. They were on the shelves, under a different name:
“St. Georges’ Cakes”
The mind, it truly boggles.