Christmas with the Crips

1. The goose is getting fat ... I have this on good authority. Every year, I get a call from my local organic farm to ask whether I want a goose again. You bet your sage and onion stuffing I do! Nothing better than goose fat for roasting your potatoes. Plus, rubbing goose fat on your extremities seems to be a panacea for all known ailments. So here's a clear cut example of the health benefits of Christmas celebration. Just don't mention coronary artery disease.

2. 'Tis the season to be jolly ... in other words, we're all hitting the bottle. If it's not the office Christmas party, then it's a glass of egg nog under the mistletoe.

But here's the good news: medical research proves that alcohol is good for you! Those miserable public health experts keep quiet about it, but regular and moderate intake of alcohol is beneficial for heart disease, diabetes, strokes, dementia ... almost everything! It's not just red wine, any form of alcohol will do: beer, spirits, cooking sherry. Just don't drink and drive, particularly if you have a motorised chair.

3. You'd better watch out, you'd better not cry ... the panto posters are going up. It's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs again. Oh joy.

I was going to organise a seasonal get together of my restricted growth friends in Newcastle, but we're going to have to get the numbers just right. Six is okay, eight is better, but if seven people turn up, then someone's going to have to go home, or else we'll get tiresomely predictable jokes all evening. Oh, who cares. Bring it on! We can drink you folks under the table any day of the week.

4. Santa Claus is coming to town ... together with Rudolf, the reindeer with nasal disfigurement, and various other exotic and endangered species. And where are the elves? At home, that's where they are. Santa's little helpers working away 24/7, probably not even paid a minimum wage.

It's a sweat shop, that's what it is. Just because they're a bit small and have those pointy ears and squeaky voices, doesn't mean that they should be segregated into sheltered workshops and forced to work for pocket money. It's a clear case of discrimination, and I think the Disability Rights Commission should get onto it straight away.

5. Deck the halls with bows of holly ... the shops are full of wide-eyed people with seasonal retail disorder. Here I can smugly point out that I've already bought all my presents. Crowds of people swarming through shopping precincts aren't my idea of fun. My wife says that some of the department stores in Melbourne used to reserve special evenings exclusively for disabled people to do their shopping. Now there's an example of segregation worth supporting.

Then there's our restricted growth friend who spent one Christmas season dressed up in a furry bear costume in one of those big Melbourne stores. The suit prevented her seeing where she was going, so she was escorted by two colleagues dressed as elves.

At one point she got separated from her chaperones, but then someone took her hand and guided her off. It was only when she felt a significant rise in temperature (December is summer in Australia, keep up) that she started getting alarmed. A few minutes later, she heard an irate parent explaining that no, the child couldn't take home a real bear for Christmas; she'd have to settle for a toy one. Our friend tore off her furry head and scampered back to the store. Oh, the trials of being a dwarf actor.

6. Ding dong merrily on high ... yes, it's time for all those eager carollers to go from house to house, spreading peace and harmony - or discord and droning in most cases.

Now, just how accessible is this traditional seasonal pastime? How possible is it for your wheelchair user to get to the average British suburban front door? What about all those steps, those narrow paths, those door knockers and doorbells and letter boxes which are too high for many of us disabled folks to reach? Is there a carol singers (private dwellings) clause in section four of the Disability Discrimination Act? And for that matter, where are the sign language interpreters? I rest my case.

7. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow ... exactly. Everyone else is whooping it up with the sledges and snowballs, but many disabled people are confined to their homes because their wheelchairs are sliding all over the shop, they're slipping on the ice, or they can't cope with low temperatures.

Now, do arctic conditions count as an environmental barrier according to the social model of disability? Should the Direct Action Network get out there campaigning? (What do we want? Global warming! When do we want it? Now!) I guess we should just count our lucky stars that we live in Britain, not Scandinavia. You have to be pretty intrepid to chain yourself to a bus when the temperature drops below freezing.

So, it's a mixed picture really. But, on balance, I reckon it's worth celebrating. Have yourselves a merry little Christmas and I'll be back in the New Year ...