Dominic George: Adult DVD adds spice to secret Santa

I really do dread the Santa Parade, says Dominic George.

Peaks and troughs. That's what I keep hearing from anyone who knows anything about farming.

You have good years and bad years, good fortune and misfortune and, as long as you stick to the game plan, keep learning and employing best practice, you can at least break even and maybe even get ahead of the game.

When you think about it, it really is a microcosm of life itself -- peaks and troughs, good times and bad times. As David Brent once said: "You never know what's round the corner. But it's all good.

"If you want the rainbow, you've got to put up with the rain. Do you know which philosopher said that? Dolly Parton."

If I needed reminding of this, it's been graphically illustrated in the past week. The beloved and I spent a blissful few days in paradise recently to mark our 10th wedding anniversary. When I say paradise, I mean literally rather than figuratively in the stunning resort of Queenstown, although I'm sure she'd tell you latter was also true.

So, there we are in the five-star St Moritz hotel, sampling wonderful boutique beers, drinking coffee at Vudu, getting down and dirty with the locals at Ferg Burger and Pub on Wharf and quaffing magnificent wines at Gibbston Valley vineyard. Childless and carefree, a real peak you might say.

Then we came home, and suffice to say the size of the trough I'm in now suitably buttresses the peak of a few days ago. A veritable bloody yin and yang situation.

Firstly, I must say the impetus for this trough is largely the product of working in an office environment, but I'm sure no matter what your occupation or situation in life you'll appreciate the soul-destroying nature of it all.

Issue one, the least threatening of them all but still a complete pain in the arse, is Secret Santa. Essentially, this is spending money you don't have on someone you don't like.

I've drawn a particularly despicable creature out of the hat this year and I'm at a real dead end as to what to buy. To be honest I can hardly bear to give it any thought so I'll probably settle for my stock-standard Secret Santa gift of a cheap adult DVD, wrapped up in a brown paper bag. It's a bit old-hat but I may spice it up a bit this year by purchasing an all-male production. That would provide some sweet irony as my Secret Santa loves a good old-fashioned blue movie.

Issue two is the insufferable Santa Parade. I have three young boys so, for years, we've joined the heaving masses on the main street and watched the various floats go by. Some great memories and Christmas cheer have been had and they even used to throw chocolate into the crowd until some gormless wanker decided it might be dangerous. But I've had a slightly chequered history with this event.

As a youngster I never missed a ball being bowled at Carisbrook no matter who was playing. One particular first-class game in the 1990s was at a delicate stage so I vowed to head to the ground with my mates once I'd completed my float duties that my parents forced me into. I can't even remember which stupid Christmas float I was a part of but while my sister and I were being paraded down George St, a brash youngster by the name of Adam Parore was flaying the Otago bowlers to all parts of the ground and Auckland had won the time by the time the parade was over. I vowed never to go into that bloody parade again. That was until I came to work at a radio station. For a few years, we had nothing to do with it so I turned up as usual and watched with my kids. Then, for some reason, we got involved and now have to strip ourselves of all dignity once a year and wave to strangers for no reason. I really do dread the Santa Parade.

Issue three is something called the Can Drive. This is for charity so I really shouldn't complain, but while it does provide a feel-good factor, it rained last year and I'm a miserable individual who is going to hell.

Issue four is the annual office Christmas party. This is traditionally a debaucherous affair but for some inexplicable reason this tried and true formula has been overhauled this year and been turned into a themed fancy dress event encompassing Sing Star. Words fail me.

Issue five is Farming Show host Jamie Mackay. Not in general, but he wants the Farming Show team to record a jingle for the SealesWinslow jingle competition. God help me. I know I'm going to hell, but help me all the same.

That man knows how to get the nose in the trough -- he's made an art of it. But I wasn't counting on him dragging me down to the very depths of my own personal one.

Dominic George hosts Farming First, 5am-6am weekdays on Radio Sport.
Rural radio personality Dominic George vents his views here every Thursday