21 December 2017
Christmas Cards
A matter of engineering.
By Chin Chin
Job interviews are like games of chess. After a number of preliminary moves, and with a bovine smile of self-satisfaction wreathing his fleshy face, the interviewer delivers the ace question. “Do you have any weaknesses?” he asks. That of course is a trap. The candidate who has weaknesses is not up to the job and the candidate who claims to have no weaknesses is too complacent to employ. Catch-22 for employee interviews!
Unfortunately for the interviewer, every candidate knows the answer to this one, as inevitable and pre-scripted as the defence to a classic chess gambit. Instead of playing the King’s Indian declined, however, he or she merely replies “I think perhaps I set my standards rather too high”. Brilliant. A new member of the Board/Monetary Policy Committee/chorus line has been found.
Still, venal as such exchanges may be, the reference is to a very real danger. The hubristic setting of high standards invites nemesis and nowhere is this more the case that in relation to Christmas cards.
A couple of years ago I moved to my new address. The previous owners were in advertising and had lots of contacts. As a result they had a large number of Christmas cards, and because some change of address messages inevitably go astray, I received about twenty in addition to the usual ones from my sisters, my cousins and my aunts, more or less doubling the total. My shelves looked quite crowded by the time I had put them all up, so, basking in my new found popularity, I took the opportunity of asking half a dozen neighbours in for a glass of sparkling Lambrusco. The occasion was a success and I saw one or two of my guests peering inside the cards (I had put the ones with my predecessors’ names written inside well out of reach on the top shelf) in a thoroughly satisfactory manner. They were clearly impressed by my popularity, and to tell the truth I was rather impressed by it as well. So I decided to give a repeat party last year and duly sent out the invitations.
Unfortunately I did that before the Christmas cards arrived and before I realised that the senders had begun to catch up with the fact that the previous occupiers had moved on. Only ten extra cards this time, giving a total of about thirty. If that had been all, it would have been a disaster because Melissa (who lives opposite) would have gossiped about how I was being deserted by my friends and had become some sort of a saddo. Luckily, however, I had kept the cards from the year before in my bottom drawer as a memento of my social success, and my foresight certainly paid off. One or two were beginning to look a bit dog-eared but I managed to get the number on display up to 40 or so without it being too obvious. Except to Melissa, of course. Really, that woman should have lived at St Mary Mead, the way she sticks her nose into everything. “Didn’t I see a card just like that last year?” she intoned in her squeaky but penetrating voice. I quickly said something about people who buy too many boxes of cards often having a few leftover for use next year and she shut up, but clearly I cannot work the same trick again.
So what to do this year? A friend of mine in marketing claims to generate his own contacts, so surely I can generate twenty or so Christmas cards. Let’s see. If I send one to each of the political parties they are bound to respond in kind. That’s at least three or possibly four if I print off the electronic one I will receive from the Greens. Then there are the churches. They can’t know everyone in their congregation so I expect that the ministers simply respond in kind to any cards they get. There are five different churches within walking distance (obviously I wouldn’t want to waste money on stamps) so that brings the additional card total up to eight. I can write one to myself left-handed, so that is another one, and then there are shops and businesses. There is a trick here. The chairman of a major group will no doubt send out a lot of Christmas cards to suppliers, customers and the like. If I simply send one signed by me, his or her office may assume that I’m some sort of nutter, but if I put inside the words “hoping we may do as much business in the New Year as we did in 2017” it is likely that after a bit puzzling they will just send a card in response. Those ones definitely go on the lower shelf. Let Melissa read “it has been a pleasure dealing with you this year” from the head of Goldman Sachs. There shouldn’t be any problem in getting credit at the corner shop after that!
So what about next year then? How can I keep up the standard without it becoming obvious that something is afoot? I think there’s only one answer. Next year I shall send e-cards stating that I am doing so in order to preserve the environment. The money I save on stamps can fund a contribution to Greenpeace. I will be careful to leave their magazine on the table as supporting evidence for my explanation to Melissa that I and my friends have simply moved on with the times.
