FAANGs for the Memories
In a few days it will be our wedding anniversary.
Much to my surprise the memsahib has asked to celebrate with a trip to hear the Wiener Sängerknaben yodel a few Christmas carols.
I always thought Sängerknaben were biscuits. But my German isn’t great. I have always been vaguely suspicious of young boys in sailor suits, but hey ho, its Christmas soon and ‘tis the season to be jolly.
So here is Mr. Hu’s version of the Twelve Days of Christmas:
(If you add the gifts up they come to 364 and that’s because Father Christmas has one day off every year. It is written into his contract as the Santa (release) Clause.
12 hedge funds failing
11 LIBORs leaping
10 Cents a-falling
9 Netflix movies
8 Bitcoins plunging
7 Lawyers litigating
6 Teslas charging
4 Facebooks faking
3 Fed-rate rises
2 Trillion dollar companies
And an Alan Steel in a pear tree…
So there we are. And if you find Alan Steel in the bottom of your stocking, do tell Fran.
All we ever got were tangerines, Brazil nuts and some chocolate coins. You could bite into the coins and hence they were known as bit-coins as early as the 1950s.
My dear old late dad, Hu Jim, received the same Christmas present each year from his mam; a Giles annual, a pair of socks (boo) and an ounce of St. Bruno flake (hooray).
We would get an annual or three: Eagle (Dan Dare!), Lion and rather sadly, Rupert the Bear.
In Hong Kong only the shops celebrate.
A trip to our traditional tree seller set us back an eye-watering HK$1,800, delivery included.
Thank goodness we didn’t go for the 8’ to 9’ option!
We spotted a bargain bauble for the tree - a snip at HK$100 (that’s just over a tenner to you).
Luckily somewhere we still have our plastic Santa, circa 1960, which genuinely has ‘Made in Hong Kong’ stamped on its backside.
This has been passed down as a family heirloom. He may look a bit lonely up there but I’m blowed if I’m paying ten quid for a bit of ‘Made in China’ tinsel.
However I am sure that despite the tariff war the good burghers of the Deep South will still cough up a few dollars to decorate their burning crosses.
A white Christmas it shall be.
And on that cheery note I wish you all sing dan fai lok.