Month: December 2019

The Dark Side Of Christmas

dark side

Everyone from Brooklyn to Borneo knows the story of Christmas, right?  Whether it’s the Nativity or Santa Claus and his magic sleigh, we all think we’ve got the whole tale – but we don’t.  There’s another side to Christmas — a dark side – a side that nobody wants to talk about.  Here are a couple of items from a tell-all book that has been suppressed for many, many years: Christmas Confidential.  This is the stuff Big Christmas doesn’t want you to know.

Christmas Carols

We have love songs, working songs, birthday songs, etc., etc. but only Christmas songs are called carols.  Why?  The reason is a tawdry little secret: Santa Claus is divorced.  That sweet little lady, Mrs. Claus, is actually a trophy wife.  It seems that at some point in his long career, Santa had an affair (after all, he knows where all the naughty girls live.)  This was alluded to in Tommie Connor’s song “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” written in 1952.  Anyway, soon after Santa’s digression was discovered, the Clauses had a very messy divorce.  However, given the sensitive nature of the proceedings, a Universal Gag Order was issued by The International Court of The Hague, so very few details are known.  Naturally, though, a lot of people were pissed off at this sordid situation, and they started calling Christmas songs “carols” so that, Caroline Claus, Santa’s first wife, would not be forgotten.

The Other Reindeer

We all know that Santa has 9 reindeer – Dasher, Dancer, Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blixen (You sang that last part, didn’t you?) and, of course, Rudolph.  However, most people don’t know that originally there were 10 reindeer.  Donner was actually a twin.  Unfortunately, his brother was an evil twin.  He was a nasty piece of work who spent most of his time lying around the North Pole, eating candy canes and drinking Finlandia vodka.  Rumour has it that he was the one who started “Elf Tossing Tuesdays” at the Caribou Bar and several witnesses have come forward who accuse him of calling Rudolph names and not allowing him access to any reindeer games.  This situation went on for years until one “foggy Christmas Eve,” drunk off his antlers, Donner’s brother refused to pull the sleigh.  “Get the little freak to do it” he said, “or pull it yourself, Fat Boy.”  He went on to make a few choice remarks about Mrs. Claus and her relationship with several of the elves.  Then he pushed Santa out of the way and stomped off into the forest.  Finally, out of patience, Santa turned to Mrs. Claus and said, “Ho, Ho, Ho!  Never mind, my darling!  You set the table, and we’ll have a fine late supper when I get home tonight.”  Then he reached for his rifle that was hanging on the wall.  Donner’s brother’s name was Dinner.

The Little Drummer Boy

Forget everything you know about the little drummer boy — it’s all a pack of lies.  Yes, there actually was a Little Drummer Boy, but not the one we know from the song.  The truth is, he was a small-time sneak thief who spent his nights picking the pockets of decent folk in the souks of Baghdad.  He wasn’t very good at it, though, and after getting caught — a lot — he was told to either hit the road or become the newest member of the one glove club.  Drummer Boy skulked out of town on the next full moon and was well on his way to anonymity when he ran across the Three Wise Men who (as everybody knows) were on their way to Bethlehem.  LDB travelled with them for the next several days, shamelessly fawning and groveling in the hope of gaining their trust and getting his mitts on some of their treasure.  Unfortunately, wise as they probably were, when it came to street smarts, the Three Wise Men weren’t the sharpest scimitars in the desert, and they fell for this blatant con.  Drummer Boy made off with a jar of frankincense and headed for Damascus.  The Three Wise Men journeyed on — just a little wiser and one jar of frankincense lighter.  However, rather than admit they’d gotten scammed by a petty little crook, the Wise Men decided to rework the story in a more favourable light, and so emerged the tale we know today — “pa-rum-pum-pum-pum” and all.

And what happened to the Little Drummer Boy?  He was arrested for selling stolen frankincense, convicted and sentenced to 10 years hard labour in a Damascus prison — which is exactly what the treacherous little bugger deserved.

And, BTW, many people believe “The Little Drummer Boy” was written, in 1941, by Katherine Kennicott Davis, a mild-mannered New England music teacher.  This is not true.  The song was written by Nazis — flesh-eating, green-saliva Nazis — who were trying to undermine our morale during World War II.

The Songs Of Christmas

songs

How cool is Christmas?  Christmas is so totally cool that it has its own Playlist.  No other holiday has a catalogue of special songs you never hear any other time of the year.  For example, they don’t start playing Valentine’s Day music in the middle of January and drive you crazy for an entire month until finally you just wanna kick the … but I digress.  My point is, unlike every other holiday on the calendar, Christmas is such a Maximum Celebration it has its own musical genre.  Every year from midnight October 31st until midnight December 25th it’s wall-to-wall deck the halls – “White Christmas,” “Blue Christmas,” “Don’t Eat the Yellow Snow.”  Then there’s “I’ll be Home for Christmas,” “Daddy, Don’t Get Drunk On Christmas” (which is a real song, BTW) “Christmas Island,” Christmas Kisses,” ”Christmas Lullaby,” “Here Comes Santa Claus,” “Christmas in Killarney” and OMG, “Christmas Carols by the Old Corral.”  There’s just no end to it.

Plus, there’s all the novelty songs.  These are those stupid little ditties that they trot out every year cuz somebody thought they were funny back in 1951.  Crap like “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer,” “I Yust Go Nuts at Christmas” and the second-worst Christmas song ever written*, “All I Want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth.”  These unholy staples of AM radio have been haunting the holidays ever since Gene Autry, the Chipmunks and “Jingle Bell Rock” ruled the airwaves.

However, the thing that kicks Christmas through the goal posts of Super Holiday Stardom is its weird ability to act like a super vortex and suck a bunch of ordinary winter song into its musical orbit.  Think about it!  Do you ever hear, “Frosty the Snowman,” “Winter Wonderland” or “Jingle Bells” in January?  No, you don’t.  Even though these songs have absolutely nothing to do with Christmas, never even mention the holiday and were quite possibly written to celebrate a February week-end in Vermont, they are all de facto Christmas songs.  As well as, “Let it Snow,” “Sleigh Ride” and the recently disgraced, “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.”  Why?  Nobody knows.  Christmas just came along and said, “This one’s mine.  This one’s mine.  And this one’s mine.”  And nobody was brave enough to say “No!”  That’s some holiday cojones, boys and girls.

Personally, I think there’s too much Christmas music, and I like to stick to the old favourites.  I have a general rule of thumb that if it hasn’t been covered by the Vienna Boys Choir, I’m not really interested.  Although I do have a special place in my heart for Harry Belafonte’s “Mary’s Boy Child.”

 

*The worst, of course, is “The Little Drummer Boy” which was written specifically to vex me.

The Secrets Of Christmas

secrets

Okay, here we are, 12 days before Christmas (11, actually) and your holiday stress level is at DefCon 4.  The tree is up, but it’s been cat- attacked twice, and now the lights that aren’t supposed to twinkle – are twinkling.  Amazon refuses to send half the gifts you ordered until January 23rd.  Uncle Jerry wants to bring his step-daughter, Blaster, to Christmas dinner cuz she’s on a day pass out of County Jail.  And somewhere in the night, the tank on the toilet starting making a strange, chugging sound.  So what else could go wrong — right?  Don’t tempt the gods, because they’ve just moved your office’s Seasonal Celebration Party (“Oh, you didn’t get the email?”) to the same night as Grandma G’s 8 pm flight from Wisconsin, and in a couple of minutes, your youngest child, who’s 13, is going to announce she’s an atheist and won’t be participating in this year’s “hypocrisy.”

However, there’s no need to grab an adult beverage and hide in the upstairs closet until December 27th.  Help is at hand.  I’m going to tell you the two secrets of Christmas that will wipe away the stress faster than 2 Tylenol and a shot of vodka.

Secret #1 – The last perfect Christmas was the first one. Yeah, yeah, yeah!  We’ve all heard the stories and seen the pictures on social media, but the truth is they’re all lies — there’s no such thing as the perfect Christmas.  Not even Martha Stewart (the Queen of DIY guilt) and her army of serfs and servants could put together those magnificent offerings without divine intervention.  Plus, Janet Perfect-Size-Zero down the street might think she’s wowing the world with her handmade canapes, but when you’ve got one kid in therapy, another one headed for Detox and a husband who’s addicted to football and Sharon from Accounting, wasting hours chopping olives is kinda counterproductive.  Here’s the deal: the only person who’s going to notice that the twinkly lights aren’t supposed to twinkle or the veggie plate is from Costco is your sister-in-law, and there’s no satisfying that woman.

Secret #2 – Memories aren’t made of perfection.  Think about it!  Which Christmas do you remember?  The one when everything marched along like a Nuremburg rally or the one when your sister got her head stuck in the dishwasher?  Dishwasher — no doubt!  I have friends who have mushroom soup for Christmas dinner every year.  It’s a fine tradition that started when the holidays went so far sideways that the turkey actually caught fire from too much cognac in the dressing.  I have some other friends who always throw their Brussels sprouts out the back door because – uh – I don’t know if anybody even remembers why.  My point is Christmas is all about family, not symmetrical trees or perfectly-spaced lights — and families are flawed.  That’s what makes them interesting, maddening and fun – just like Christmas.

So, now that you have the two secrets of Christmas under your belt, toss back that vodka, chase the cat away from the tree, book a taxi for Grandma G and a plumber for the toilet, tell your daughter atheists don’t get presents, phone Uncle Jerry and say, “Of course Blaster’s welcome for Christmas, but unfortunately we won’t be using the good silver this year.”  Then sit down at your computer and cancel all that crap from Amazon because you’re going with gift cards — like you wanted to in the first place.