Jump to content
Sign in to follow this  
Carlo Klemm

Has Christmas come early?

Recommended Posts

Carlo Klemm

Has Christmas come early? The Coca Cola has been spotted ahead of its UK tour

September 26, 2017

By JAMIE BULLEN, ABBIE BRAY - Devon Live

 

Excerpt:  Devon, UK - It appears the holidays are coming.

The Christmas countdown has seemingly kicked off after the iconic Coca-Cola truck has been spotted, 12 weeks before Christmas.

The illuminated lorry adorned with the image of Santa Claus tours the UK in the run-up to Christmas.

Stewart Power, who filmed the truck in Dagenham, East London wrote online: "Just seen the Coca Cola truck on the A406, does this mean it’s offically ok to talk about Christmas now?

"This truck gives everybody that warm feeling inside from when they where younger."

Coca-Cola-truck-by-Chris-Gresham-2.jpg

The bright red lorry made 44 stops across the UK over the holidays last year with children handed free sugary drinks.

The drinks giant was accused of promoting an unhealthy lifestyle as experts called for an end to the whistle-stop tour.

A letter signed by five public health directors and members of the Faculty of Public Health, said: “We can celebrate without allowing Coca-Cola to hijack Christmas by bringing false gifts of bad teeth and weight problems to our children.”

 

SOURCE:

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.
Sign in to follow this  

  • Similar Content

    • Michael Rielly
      By Michael Rielly
      Every year around this time, some variation of this poem is circulated online. The poem is generally credited to “a soldier stationed in Okinawa” or more recently since September 11, 2001, “a Marine stationed in Afghanistan”.
      However, the poem’s true author is Lance Corporal James M. Schmidt.
      Originally entitled, “Merry Christmas, My Friend”, Corporal Schmidt wrote the poem in 1986 while serving as Battalion Counter Sniper at the Marine Barracks 8th & I, in Washington, D.C.
      That day the poem was placed in the Marine Corps Gazette and distributed worldwide. Schmidt’s poem was later published in Leatherneck (Magazine of the Marines) in December 1991.
      Below is Corporal Schmidt’s original version as printed in Leatherneck in 1991.
       
      Merry Christmas, My Friend
      by Lance Corporal James M. Schmidt
      Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
      In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.
      I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
      and to see just who in this home did live
      As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
      no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
      No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.
      On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.
      With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
      a sobering thought soon came to my mind.
      For this house was different, unlike any I’d seen.
      This was the home of a U.S. Marine.
      I’d heard stories about them, I had to see more,
      so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
      And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,
      Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.
      He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,
      Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
      Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read?
      Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?
      His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan.
      I soon understood, this was more than a man.
      For I realized the families that I saw that night,
      owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.
      Soon around the Nation, the children would play,
      And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
      They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,
      because of Marines like this one lying here.
      I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,
      on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
      Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.
      I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.
      He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice,
      “Santa, don’t cry, this life is my choice
      I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more.
      My life is my God, my country, my Corps.”
      With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,
      I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.
      I watched him for hours, so silent and still.
      I noticed he shivered from the cold night’s chill.
      So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
      and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.
      Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,
      with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
      And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
      and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.
      I didn’t want to leave him so quiet in the night,
      this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
      But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure,
      said “Carry on, Santa, it’s Christmas Day, all secure.”
      One look at my watch and I knew he was right,
      Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.
    • Michael Rielly
      By Michael Rielly
      Born in Germantown, Pennsylvania, Louisa May Alcott (1832 –1888) was an American novelist and poet who authored over 30 books and short-story collections. She is best known as the author of the novel Little Women (1868). Alcott’s career as an author began with poetry and short stories that appeared in popular magazines, often under the nom de plume, A.M. Barnard.
      A Song For A Christmas Tree
      by Louisa May Alcott
         Cold and wintry is the sky,
         Bitter winds go whistling by,
         Orchard boughs are bare and dry,
      Yet here stands a faithful tree.
         Household fairies kind and dear,
         With loving magic none need fear,
         Bade it rise and blossom here,
      Little friends, for you and me.
         Come and gather as they fall,
         Shining gifts for great and small;
         Santa Claus remembers all
      When he comes with goodies piled.
         Corn and candy, apples red,
         Sugar horses, gingerbread,
         Babies who are never fed,
      Are handing here for every child.
         Shake the boughs and down they come,
         Better fruit than peach or plum,
         'T is our little harvest home;
      For though frosts the flowers kill,
         Though birds depart and squirrels sleep,
         Though snows may gather cold and deep,
         Little folks their sunshine keep,
      And mother-love makes summer still.
         Gathered in a smiling ring,
         Lightly dance and gayly sing,
         Still at heart remembering
      The sweet story all should know,
         Of the little Child whose birth
         Has made this day throughout the earth
         A festival for childish mirth,
      Since the first Christmas long ago.
       
    • Michael Rielly
      By Michael Rielly
      Edward Estlin (E. E.) Cummings (1894 – 1962) was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts. He is best known for his typographically creative poetry which are seemingly placed at random, slicing up individual words as well as sentences, but Cummings was also a painter, essayist, author, and playwright. He wrote approximately 2,900 poems; two autobiographical novels; four plays and several essays.
      Little Tree
      by E. E. Cummings
      little tree
      little silent Christmas tree
      you are so little
      you are more like a flower
       
      who found you in the green forest
      and were you very sorry to come away?
      see          i will comfort you
      because you smell so sweetly
       
      i will kiss your cool bark
      and hug you safe and tight
      just as your mother would,
      only don't be afraid
       
      look          the spangles
      that sleep all the year in a dark box
      dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,
      the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,
       
      put up your little arms
      and i'll give them all to you to hold
      every finger shall have its ring
      and there won't be a single place dark or unhappy
       
      then when you're quite dressed
      you'll stand in the window for everyone to see
      and how they'll stare!
      oh but you'll be very proud
       
      and my little sister and i will take hands
      and looking up at our beautiful tree
      we'll dance and sing
      "Noel Noel"
  • Donations

    All donations go directly towards the cost of hosting and running ClausNet!

    Your support, through donations or simply by clicking on sponsor links, is greatly appreciated!

    Donate Sidebar by DevFuse
  • Our picks

    • Every Once in A While
      Every once in a while I see some flagrant abuses of Santa’s appearance and etiquette. It strikes me some men don’t care about how they act or portray the beloved character of Santa.

      Gentlemen, you undertake an awesome responsibility when you button up your Santa Suit. Don’t take it lighty!

      The “World” has an image of Santa as represented by illustrations, traditions and personal contact. Believe it or not, you’re being measured by those who see you for your authenticity.

      You’re fooling yourself if you believe that no one notices or cares if your bead is yellow or unkempt. Maybe you’re also missing a few of those pearly whites, or they are stained from tobacco products. Again, don’t fool yourself….kids notice everything! I have a gold crown capping one of my lower teeth. Every once in a while, I have an inquisitive youngster question what that gold thing is in my mouth. Years ago I thought it was well hidden however; kids have uncanny radar to pick out any of our flaws….

      You may be asking yourself, “What difference does it make? “It’s not the Christmas Season.” Maybe it isn’t however, If you’re representing Santa, you’re representing one of the most recognizable characters in the world. What you do reflects upon me and every Santa reader of this article. If you’re going to be recognized then do justice to the character we are reenacting.

      Over the years I have been a Santa, I have frequently been by told by people about the Santa they hired or saw which left a very poor expression. Most of their comments were predictable. Their Santa did not interact with the children as expected or he was unprepared. He was unanimated, had a dirty suit or lack luster beard. Obviously these are sure fire ways never to be called to this group again.

      Think about what impression you make as a Santa and pay attention to developing your character. You can become one of the best Santas in your area by learning everything about your character and performing from the heart.

      Always remember: It's not about you. It's about the children.

      Santa Lou Knezevich is the creator of the Legendary Santas Mentoring Program
      Contact Santa Lou at: LegendarySantasMentoringProg@gmail.com
        • Love
        • Like
      • 0 replies
    • If You Have the Post Christmas Blues You’re Doing Christmas Wrong
      The post-Christmas blues are a very real thing. Once the date of December 25th has passed the specter of December 26th is an ominous marker to many. It sits there on the calendar like the Ghost of Christmas Yet-to-Come. Silent and foreboding, the very image of the hooded Angel of Death it seems to be. And why not?

      Just about anywhere you look Americans are tossing trees to the curb, ripping down lights from rooftops and radio stations are flipping back to everyday music. What took months to build gets deconstructed in a matter of a couple of days.
        • Like
      • 26 replies
    • Auld Lang Syne
      Every New Year’s Eve at the stroke of midnight, millions around the world traditionally gather together to sing the same song, “Auld Lang Syne”. As revilers mumble though the song’s versus, it often brings many of them to tears – regardless of the fact that most don’t know or even understand the lyrics. Confusion over the song’s lyrics is almost as much of a tradition as the song itself. Of course that rarely stops anyone from joining in.
        • Wow
        • Like
      • 3 replies
    • Merry Christmas, My Friend
      Every year around this time, some variation of this poem is circulated online. The poem is generally credited to “a soldier stationed in Okinawa” or more recently since September 11, 2001, “a Marine stationed in Afghanistan”.

      However, the poem’s true author is Lance Corporal James M. Schmidt.

      Originally entitled, “Merry Christmas, My Friend”, Corporal Schmidt wrote the poem in 1986 while serving as Battalion Counter Sniper at the Marine Barracks 8th & I, in Washington, D.C.

      That day the poem was placed in the Marine Corps Gazette and distributed worldwide. Schmidt’s poem was later published in Leatherneck (Magazine of the Marines) in December 1991.
        • Sad
        • Love
        • Like
      • 1 reply
    • Is it time to start calling out Bad Santas?
      Is it time to start calling out Bad Santas?

      Do you think we should start calling out those in our community whose actions or behavior is unbecoming of Santa Claus or Mrs. Claus?
        • Wow
        • Like
      • 94 replies
About | Forums | Blogs | Newsletter | Contact


© 2019 MJR Group. LLC. All rights reserved.
Terms of Use | Privacy Policy | Copyright IP Policy

Proud affiliate of My Merry Christmas!

Subscribe to the ClausNet Gazette

Enter your email address to subscribe to our monthly newsletter.

About ClausNet

The ClausNet community is the largest social network and online resource for Santa Claus, Mrs. Claus, Elves, Reindeer Handlers, and Santa helpers for the purposes of sharing stories, advice, news, and information.
×
×
  • Create New...