Diary of a Shopkeeper, 29th November
'George and I grinning broadly with our hair everywhere like wild men of the woods, and Max grinning too, but with his curls held under a natty leather cap – a trio of poetry, storytelling and music caught by the lens like a tiny icon of festive Orkney.’ Edwin Morgan, GMB and PMD, 1985. Photo by Gunnie Moberg, courtesy of the Orkney Archive.
A word to the wise folk of Orkney: BROWSE NOW!
The streets of our towns get increasingly busy as Christmas approaches. What starts as a trickle of shoppers and partiers in late November grows into a flood by the second and third weekends of December.
The winter lights are shining, Mariah Carey and the Salvation Army brass band vie for musical prominence, and seasonal smells waft out of shop and cafe doors: resinous pine trees, spicy mulled wine, and scented candles with names like “Essence of Lapland” and “Brandy-Butter Chocolate-Orange Explosion.”
The Glasgow poet, Edwin Morgan, has a wonderful poem, ‘Trio’, about downtown festive atmosphere:
Coming up Buchanan Street, quickly, on a sharp winter evening
a young man and two girls, under the Christmas lights
[…] the three of them are laughing, their breath rises
in a cloud of happiness, and as they pass
the boy says, ‘Wait till he sees this but!’
Of course, it can also be a cloud of worry for some on stretched resources, and a fog of exhaustion for workers in sectors such as hospitality and retail. But for most folk, most years, it’s a time of conviviality and celebration.
All of that can still happen in 2020 – thank goodness. But it has to happen slightly differently than usual.
What I and many shopkeepers dream of happening, is for shoppers to be spread out much more evenly over the next three weeks. Businesses still have limits who can enter then at any one time. It could be four, or six, or whatever seems safe for the size of premises.
But what applies to all is that the maximum number is likely to be much smaller than the numbers that usually crowd in pre-Christmas.
By mid-December, it’s not uncommon to have 20 or 30 people in Kirkness & Gorie at any one time – in fact more or less all day. Some are in to make a careful cheese selection, some to choose a case of wine, some to browse for inspiration. The shop is filled with laughter, conversation and the clink of jars and bottles as they disappear into shopping bags and gift boxes.
The problem is, this year we’re restricted to six shoppers at a time. What are the other 14 or 24 going to do? Queue up the close to Broad Street?
Edwin Morgan sees the power of his trio of shoppers as almost magical. Their cloud of happiness, good will and generosity vanquishes darkness:
The vale of tears is powerless before you.
Whether Christ is born, or is not born, you
put paid to fate, it abdicates
under the Christmas lights.
Fate may indeed abdicate under the flashing lights and giant star of Kirkness & Gorie’s courtyard. But they can’t stop the clock ticking inexorably towards 25th December. It’s impractical to expect anyone to wait half an hour before they can even start shopping.
So, what’s the solution? Easy! Instead of coming down the street on December 20th, come on the 10th. Or, even better, the 5th. If the 100 people who would normally come into a shop on the Saturday before Christmas could come in over the five preceding days, everyone could browse at leisure without fear or overcrowding.
Better still, make use of the pre-ordering systems that many retailers have in place. Choose what you want online or in the shops now, and collect it or have it delivered at a time that suits you.
Working in a shop is a very sociable occupation. Going to a football match isn’t just about watching the players; it’s also about the crowd, the atmosphere, the banter. Watching a play isn’t just about the script: you could read it in a book if it was. And Christmas shopping isn’t just about commerce: if it was, we would never leave our sofas and laptops again.
No, both working in and visiting shops at this time of year is about celebration and conviviality and community. It’s about the excitement and anticipation of joy in Morgan’s “Wait till he sees this!”
“This” could be a present under the tree, or a turkey delivered to the table, or a new song to be sung on a night out. “This” is about the joy of giving, whether what’s given is a physical gift, or the gift of time and companionship.
Monsters of the year
go blank, are scattered back,
can’t bear this march of three.
2020 has given us more monsters than most years. Now’s the time to scatter them back. And by “now” I do mean NOW, and not the last two shopping days before the 25th.
Just one more thing. Before you head down the street, check your wallet or purse or kitchen drawer and see if you have an unused Kirkwall Gift Card. You could bring a lot of joy to friends and family if you find one and use it wisely.
And the local businesses you support by doing so will be filled with a cloud of happiness.
This diary appeared in The Orcadian on 4th December. Other diaries continue to appear weekly. I am posting them in this blog a few days after each newspaper appearance, with added illustrations., and occasional small corrections or additions.