Christmas in June

A few months ago brilliant old digital television justified its cybernetic hold on my free time by bringing me, for the first time, the wonders of Gavin and Stacey.

I was vaguely aware of the programme, of course. Everyone had said it was all made of lovely and then all the actors from it kept popping up on chat shows and talking about how brilliant they were in it. And I had even become vaguely aware that the fat bloke and the big girl were not the titular couple after all, but that they did write the show, and that they probably weren't going out with each other, even though that would have made sense in my opinion. Anyway, as with most things, I'd managed to miss the entire three seasons and then it finished and I thought 'Oh well, that's that then.'

You see, there's something about watching a show when it is current that far outstrips the pleasure of binging on the DVD box-sets after the fact. Partly, there is the joy of feeling part of the buzz that surrounds a show that has grabbed the public mood. Being able to join in conversations about it, getting other cultural references to it etc. Plus, of course, you don't have to fear spoilers. I enjoy wandering around the internet in search of TV and film stuff with which to impress my so called friends, but the presence of spoilers renders the whole exercise a terrifying trip through a minefield. A minefield laced with enjoyment-ruining information on who dies, or makes someone else die, or was dead all along but never noticed. Boo to spoilers.

Oh, and also there's the joy of having to wait between episodes, to experience the end-of-episode tensions as God intended. I like that.

So, when a series passes in its entiriey, I tend to think I probably won't get round to watching it at all. Popular culture seems hell bent on throwing out more interesting TV than I could ever get round to watching anyway, lobbing series after series of things I Absolutely Must Watch at my face, while I like whimpering in a corner, still contemplating unwrapping series two of the Sopranos.

Anyhow, obviously I did wach Gavin and Stacey, mostly because it only has a finite and do-able three series to overcome, and I'm very glad I did because it's very, very good. You probably know this, because you're probably not the pathetic late-adopter that I am, and you probably enjoyed it when it was fresh. But look, I'm here now aren't I? Let me be happy for once. And stop eating my chips. You said you weren't hungry.

Evil digital temptress that it is, GOLD showed series one and two and then just gave up, leaving me all a-frezy with no chance of consummation. But now we have borrowed the DVDs, thwarting GOLD and its nefarious schemes, and this week we watched the Christmas special.

Now, I'm a great enjoyer of the seasons of the year. I like my Summer full of sunshine and white wine and blasting pop music. I like Winter to embrace me in a flurry of snow, the glow of Bing Crosby and the gentle haze of Baileys. Christmas is for Christmas, and should stay there. That's what I think. That's usually what I think.

But my goodness, watching the Gavin and Stacey Christmas episode, in the late evening sun in mid June, I did feel really, properly Christmassy. And liked it. There 's something about the seies that I really can't put my finger on, but whatever it is, it makes me glow inside. Gorgeously real and enjoyable characters played with great subtlety by a perfectly cast ensemble who appear to genuinely like each other. Brilliant writing that allows space for lovely, quirky moments. Moments of true genius, like the songs that bubble up naturally and draw you along.

Ahhh. So good. In summary, then. a) Thinks I think are often directly contradicted by other things I think. b) Gavin and Stacey is good.

I'm sure I had something else to say. Ah well. Be good to each other etc.