Christmas? What Christmas? Or, as old Scrooge put it so memorably in A Christmas Carol: "Bah! Humbug!"

Stand up, Mayor Andy Durr. Stand up, chief executive Glynn Jones. Stand up, all the traders and businessmen, all the professionals who make their livings in Church Road, Western Road, North Street, East Street and all the seafront.

Stand up and explain to us why you have failed so abysmally to inject any Christmas spirit, any fun into these joyless shopping streets. Why are there no lights, no decorations? Why is there no seasonal celebration? Or are we supposed to be satisfied with those few tatty strings of bulbs strung around the Clock Tower? Stand up, all of you, and explain why you are such a bunch of Scrooges! There are one or two honourable exceptions, of course. Churchill Square is very jolly and, even in its death throes, Hanningtons has come alive with a brilliant lighting display. In The Lanes immediately behind, Brighton Place and the surrounding tiny streets are a magical area of pretty illuminations. Sydney Street shopkeepers have strung their lights, making it a pleasure to visit. George Street in Hove appears to have done the same, although the lights were un-accountably off when I drove through in the early evening. And on the shimmering Palace Pier - well, it's Christmas all year round!

Do you remember that wonderful opening in the comedy film Down and Out in Beverly Hills? It was a close-up of a reindeer pulling a sleigh - part of the fabulous street decorations strung across Wilshire Boulevard.

As the shot widens, you see all the brilliant Christmas lights around the trees and lamp standards and Nick Nolte is revealed pushing a stolen shopping trolley loaded with his dog and his possessions. The same glamorous decorations are there again this year. I have just returned from a short visit and was overwhelmed by the sheer exuberance of all the Christmas displays, the desire to make everything look exciting. You cannot be cynical just because it was the over-the-top, la-la glitz of Beverly Hills or Bel Air or Westwood or Brentwood.

Across the Hollywood hills in the so-called Valley, Burbank, Sherman Oaks, Van Nuys and Glendale put just as much effort into celebrating the season - and they are suburban, industrialised America. They try. They care. Which is why driving around Brighton and Hove was so depressing. But there was one, brilliant exception in all the dowdy streets. I have never met Robbie Raggio but the splendid decorations of his home in Woodland Drive which have caused such a furore in this posh part of Hove truly lifted my spirits. I have heard about his wealth, his business nous, his rags-to-riches life story and his effervescent personality. My mind is now made up.

If this town ever becomes a city and gets a full-time mayor, forget Fanshawe and Bassam and Ralfe and all the other wannabes. My vote is for Robbie Raggio.