Waking up Christmas Day morning to discover mad Aunt Mildred had generously sent the children hundreds of pounds of Woolworths vouchers was only marginally less disappointing than having spent the three days leading up to the 'big day' in bed with the flu.
As I finally succumbed to the flu epidemic that seems to have laid most of my local villagers flat on their backs at some point or another over the holiday period, I lay in bed on the Monday evening before Christmas and listened as the local church choir descended on my pub and sang joyous carols to diners, drinkers and darts players alike. It sounded busy and I knew I should be down there, but I doubted that anybody really wanted to see the shivering, sweating wreck that I'd become - especially as every muscle ached when I tried to do the most menial task so the chances were that I'd have to go down there wearing nothing but my Spongebob Squarepants boxer shorts.
The Tuesday was my father's 65th birthday and, ironically, the funeral of my best friend's father, and I was unable to attend either event, so I did the only thing available to me when laid up so badly and took advantage of the opportunity to watch television. And I have to say that this was, above all else, probably the most disappointing thing I can talk about for Christmas 2008.
As anybody who runs a pub knows, seven-day weeks and 100+ hours are commonplace, so watching television is a luxury many of us don't enjoy that regularly, and Sky+ (domestic, of course) is probably the greatest invention of all time for people who work such hours. So I revelled in the opportunity to watch quality television - and I was disappointed.
Sitting in the lounge on Christmas Day night I noticed the red light blink on to say Sky was recording a programme. "What's that?" I asked my wife. "Oh, I think it's the new Top Gear special." Ooh! Exciting! I quickly grabbed the remote and turned the telly on ... to discover that it was actually a repeat of the Florida special, where Richard Hammond has to drive across Alabama with the words Man Love Rules on the side of his pick-up truck and Jeremy Clarkson puts a dead cow on the roof of his Camaro. Why couldn't they have shown the Vietnam one on Christmas Day, rather than repeating an old one? It's a funny episode, but one I've seen almost as many times as I've seen the film Back To The Future - and that's a lot.
And that iconic 1985 film starring Michael J. Fox was also voted the greatest film of the 1980s in one of those 'top 40' type shows that Channel 5 like showing at this time of year. That was shown on Boxing Day night and I watched with horror as the poll, apparently put together by Channel 5 viewers and readers of The Times, completely ignored E.T. (it didn't get a mention anywhere) and put films like Coming To America in thirtieth place yet Ferris Bueller's Day Off didn't get a look in. And somebody decided that Dirty Dancing was the second greatest film of that decade...
I would have got cross and tried to complain, but then I discovered that this poll was, like Top Gear, a repeat. With the television companies spending all their money on keeping Bruce Forsyth's teeth white and making sure Davina McCall has a job for life, they've stopped making any decent programmes for us to watch - and that's why, on Boxing Day, the thirteenth greatest film of the 80's (Crocodile Dundee) had to be shown on one channel, while BBC2 ran the Morecambe & Wise Christmas Special from 1975.
With the exception of Doctor Who and Jonathan Creek, television over Christmas was a huge disappointment. And it didn't seem to matter which channel - terrestrial, freeview, cable or satellite - that you chose from. It was pretty much all rubbish.
And then it occurred to me - perhaps this is the New Year's resolution of the television companies: to permanently show repeats and rubbish television. And that, it must be said, could be the saviour of the Great British Pub. After all, with nothing original or decent on television to watch, people might start venturing out in to the fresh air once again and start using their village locals. And that might mean that 2009 won't be quite the year of doom and despair that the Daily Mail is trying to tell us it's going to be.
So I say let's raise a glass to the BBC, ITV and Sky and cheer them in with a loud Happy New Year. Bring on the rubbish TV - it'll probably do more for pubs than any gimmick J.D. Wetherspoons tries...