With a song in my heart

Oh, by gosh, by golly, it’s time for Mistletoe and Holly, and I think It’s The Most Wonderful Time of The Year. Time to get out the Oh, Tannenbaum, and set up the Jingle Bells. Let’s sit by the fire, on a Silent Night, and hear stories about Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and what happens Up on the Housetop. By the way, you may have heard Grandma Got Run-Over by a Reindeer, but if you believe that, then you’re just a Ding Dong Merrily on High. Yes, it’s Christmas in Hollis, Christmas in Killarney, and everywhere else for that matter. So, shout Mele Kalikimaka, (Merry Christmas in Hawaiian) because Here We Come A-Wassailing. Hey Santa, Please Come Home for Christmas, because I Wanna Hippopotamus for Christmas. Seriously though, All I Want for Christmas is You–to keep reading.

You might have guessed from the previous paragraph, today I will be talking about Christmas Carols. Or, you might have guessed that my car broke down, but if you did, you would be wrong. No, it’s the Christmas one. The thing is, while we love these great Christmas songs, they really don’t make much sense in today’s world. Mariah Carey sings about what she wants for Christmas, but if it is ‘you’ then she is singing to the second person, therefore she already has the ‘you’ she is singing about, so she doesn’t really need to want it. She would be better served to want a light blue convertible, like Taylor Swift, Gwen Stefani, Eartha Kitt, and so many others ask for in Santa Baby.

They come and go

The thing is, suddenly in November certain songs are getting radio time just because they’re seasonal. Pop radio, never plays Harry Connick Jr., yet in December he shows up on almost all of them. Nothing against him. It’s just he has recorded a few Christmas songs and rest of his work isn’t top forty.

Then there’s those winter songs which actually have nothing to do with Christmas. Sleigh Ride, and Winter Wonderland all get lumped in to the Christmas season, but not in January and February when most of the snow hits and winter is at its peak. Then there’s Let It Snow which is only about a winter date, not the holiday. Or perhaps, Baby It’s Cold Outside, supposedly a holiday song recorded over and over, by everybody. It’s about seduction and casual sex. Now, those are very popular topics for songs all over the radio. Thing is it only mentions a storm, never winter. Now, some folks don’t like this one, and I get it, but either way it could happen at any time of the year.

Now that’s funny

Another phenomenon, is the parody song. Comedians sing parodies, in clubs and concert venues all year round, and they don’t get radio time. But record silly words to a holiday song, and there are special radio programs to play them. In fact, they show up all over the place this time of the year. It’s truly amazing, and truly weird.

Take Bob Rivers for example. Most of his holiday songs are parody lyrics to Christmas tunes. Nice! Thing is after he does it, they have nothing to do with Christmas. So why are they being played at this time of the year? It makes you wonder.

 There is one song that has more rewrites than any other. I have heard these, at times, back-to-back, on Spotify. I’m talking about The 12 Days of Christmas, and it especially doesn’t need any spoofs, because the song itself doesn’t make any sense.

Cost prohibitive

If you were thinking about giving this very odd gift, you’d better be an extremely wealthy person. According to PNC Bank, the cost would be $38,673.22. The thing is, you shouldn’t even think about it because it’s an environmental health hazard. According to the song, your true love sent you ‘Six Geese-A-Laying’ seven times, and ‘Seven Swans-A-Swimming, six times. That’s 84 large birds! The poop problem would be incredible. Canada Geese flock in my area, and I can tell you it’s a real mess. Your yard might be big, but imagine putting 84 more large birds A-Pooping in it. Don’t expect the ‘Lords A-Leaping’ to clean it up, even though you do end up with thirty of them. You only add to the problem by adding the Maids-A-Milking. (You get forty of those.) Sure, the maids are cute, but each comes with a Cow-A-Crappin. Imagine having that mess on the average suburban lawn. Now you know why the lords are leaping. They don’t want to get their shoes messed up. Check the lyrics, there’s not a sanitation engineer in the whole song.

Another little reality coming to mind is the issue with the very first item on this strange wish list. Partridges are ground dwelling birds. They conceal themselves under bushes, not in pear trees. If you placed one in a tree, it might sit for a minute, but its instinct would be to drop to the ground. Keeping it there would probably require the use of zip-ties. I’m sure the ASPCA would have something to say about that.

They would probably also have an issue with caging the many turtle doves that your true love sent to you. Turtle doves are migratory and winter in southern Africa. Forcing them to stay in the United States at the end of December is nothing short of cruelty. It’s not like you can keep them all inside the house.

What about everyone else?

What about the neighbors? Think of the noise created by twenty-two pipers piping, twelve drummers drumming, and the various other honks and squawks. Property values would plummet. You would have a nasty-gram from the HOA within the week. Especially if there’s a clause in the agreement limiting pets.

Next let’s think about what happens after the song. Between all the maids, ladies, lords, pipers, and drummers, you end up adding one-hundred-forty people to your household. Who has that kind of room? At no point are you getting any cash to support all those folks. You could sell the forty gold rings to help finance them, but that wouldn’t last the original twelve days, let alone afterward.  Even if you roasted the thirty French hens, and cooked all the eggs the geese are laying. You also have to let them all leave if they want to. Holding them against their will is completely against the law. What kind of gift is it, if by federal law, it all can walk away at any minute?

I’m quite sure they all would take off. Except the ladies dancing of course. They doubtless wouldn’t be able to. Picture in your mind dancing for twelve days straight, blisters everywhere! There would be bandages on top of bandages. You’d also need hand cream for the maids-a-milking, not to mention the chafing on the cow’s udders.

Better??

I think the song should be rewritten in a less romantic, but much more practical way.

Something like this would be nice:

                 “On the third day of Christmas my true love sent to me

                             Three cups of Starbucks

Two Walmart trips

                             And a gift card to-oo Best Buy…”

Hold on a flipping minute…

I just parodied the song again! Darn!!