Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell you anything about Star Wars or Game of Thrones or The Walking Dead or Max and Ruby. This spoiler is TOTALLY about Bobbing for Popcorn!
TOMORROW is our ONE HUNDREDTH POST!!! 1 – 0 – freaking – 0!!! I’m kind of pumped about it. When I started this whole thing I thought I’d have a fun little Lenten challenge and tell some goofy stories about my childhood and some social commentary about subjects that wouldn’t necessarily polarize people. I love talking about quirky things, I love writing, and, above all, I love making people laugh. I never expected the response I’ve gotten from this little hobby. I am humbled and psyched simultaneously.
However, TOMORROW will be very different. And since it’s going to be different, I asked for some help from some very special people. I’ve talked about the comedy troupe I perform with in past posts and I am fortunate that these fellow performers are in my life all the time. Anyone who has performed on stage knows that your cast mates turn into a sort of theatre family. Not these people…they ARE family – we complete each other’s thoughts, we bring out the best (and worst) in each other, and we are together more time offstage than we are onstage. Unfortunately, we didn’t have all of our troupe involved, but we did gather a healthy helping for tomorrow’s celebratory post. ALSO, unfortunately, at no time do we explain who these people are, so just to get you ready for tomorrow here’s a bit of a visual aid:
So get ready for something new. Be patient, we’re venturing out in unfamiliar territory for your entertainment. And if you could have a few heavily loaded Tom and Jerrys before checking out tomorrow’s post it would be greatly appreciated. It is scientifically proven that we get funnier the more you drink. Mazel Tov!
“I don’t care if the turkey said the dog was a turkey! The dog is not the turkey! The turkey’s the turkey, you turkey!” ~ A Muppet Family Christmas
FAIR WARNING: There is some NSFW information ahead – and NO it’s not my fault (I’m talking to you family members who think MY mind is always in the gutter).
First of all, a BIG shout out to one of our subscribers, Beth, who sent me an article and told me that she’d like to see me address this trend in an upcoming post.
The article comes from Woman’s Day – so we’re talking about a LEGIT publication. Apparently people are no longer content in settling for ugly Christmas sweaters at the annual parties and they felt the need to up the ante a bit…okay they upped it a lot. The name of this new trend is a bit on the nose (if you’ll pardon the pun) and it is called…*ahem*…”reindeer boob.” Prepping for this new trend is pretty much what you think it would be:
Get a festive top.
Cut a hole in the festive top.
Put boob through festive top hole.
Make boob look like a reindeer.
Wait for people to jettison eggnog nasally.
First of all, I have no problem with the “free the nipple” movement – the human body doesn’t make me uncomfortable and if you’re comfortable enough with yourself to pull something like this off, more power to you. Second, I am not focusing on women because even the article shows examples of how this is a unisex trend (which also makes me think this trend would be way more awkward if Santa travelled via flying elephants – pause a moment and let that sink in).
I am awestruck and shaking my head for both genders of all body types and levels of self confidence. Bottom line, this is just weird! You are literally gluing things to some very sensitive skin – I mean it has to be something like a sticker, body tape, or spirit gum, or something like that, right? I’ve used spirit gum many times ON MY FACE and that hurt like hell coming off. I also don’t even like to wear a sweater without a t-shirt because it feels all chafey. So I can’t even begin to imaging gluing things to the nippty-nips!
Some participants cited the convenience for breastfeeding. Really? Is it really that inconvenient? Believe me, again, I support all mothers’ right to breastfeed their children. I will gladly have words with anyone who shames a mother. However, if you are already in a place where you are comfortable breastfeeding…do you really need to worry about the convenience of lifting your shirt versus popping off a crocheted nipple beanie? Don’t use the excuse of feeding your baby to stick googly eyes on your tata.
Look, I get it – the holidays are frustrating and we all need some time to cut loose and go a bit wild. But just because you’re sick of the Elf on the Shelf you Undressed the Breast? I’m sure there are a few other steps between sinking into the holiday doldrums and turning one of your body parts into a woodland creature.
For those of you who are interested, here is a link to the Woman’s Day article. And if anyone ever has something they find interesting that they would like to see brought up on Bobbing For Popcorn, PLEASE feel free to leave a comment on here, or Facebook, or Twitter, or in an email. We love hearing from you and we’d love to hook you up if we can!
“Well, I’m sure Charles Dickens would have wanted to see her nipples.” ~ Scrooged
That first story I told you about was an adventure and one helluva challenge. This trip was more of a living nightmare! The first mistake that we made was going without my father. Every trip was either my dad and me, or both of my parents and me, or my parents and both of us kids – we were never sans Dad. But Mom reeeeeally wanted to get that tree home and the ball rolling on the decorating before Dad got home (I don’t even remember what the rush was) so my mother and sister piled into my car (my baby, an ’89 Ford Probe – this is important later, file it away).
We drove to our favorite Christmas tree farm and trundled out into the snow. It was horrendous weather (as always) and it was going to be a real trick to drag this tree through the deep snow. To make matters worse, the place was packed and their parking lot was full, so we had to drive up the road and park by the ditch on the shoulder.
We got out and made our way to the trees. It was beyond cold! The windchill had to be below zero and it was whipping around and cutting through all of our winter layers. I was so worried about how long this was going to take (my mom can be a bit particular when it comes to the family Christmas tree) because I was already going numb just from the walk from the car.
To my surprise, my mother found one she loved right away! It was close to the entrance and the ground was well travelled there so the snow wasn’t deep at all! I pulled out the saw and got ready to start hacking away. This is where I discovered problem numero dos – I did not inherit my father’s know-how of tools and what equipment was required for certain jobs.
Did you know there was a difference between this:
Sure you did. I however did not. I just thought a saw is a saw. After about the millionth pull of the saw when I finally made it through the bark I realized the foolishness of that assumption. Nevertheless, I kept hacking away. When I was a little over halfway through, I heard my sister’s little voice ask, “Who’s Hooper?” If you remember other posts about my sister, you’ll remember that she is 11 years my junior – so at this time she was probably still in the single digits; an age when random questions and nonsense is normal. I ignored her and kept sawing. But my mother pressed her for further information wanting to know what she was talking about. My sister went on, “Hooper. It’s written on this ribbon on the tree.”
Well, whoever the Hooper family was, they had a beautiful tree picked out and half of the work had been done for them.
The second tree that we decided upon was not nearly as quickly chosen, nor was it anywhere near the entrance to the tree farm. And it was a BIG tree – not as big as the behemoth I told you about before, but still quite a beast. How that hacksaw blade didn’t break is a complete miracle. We managed to cut it down and with A LOT of effort we dragged it back to the car.
Next issue, my mother and sister are extremely short and standing in a ditch didn’t help. Why not bring it to the other side of the road? Well there must have been an Amish parade that went by while we were walking around the tree lot because the road was a virtual patchwork quilt of horse poo. My mother is a very strong woman – athletic in her childhood and a hard worker her entire adult life – however, if you can’t lift your arms high enough to get the tree onto the roof of the car, strength doesn’t really help you too much.
Eventually, we managed to hoist the tree up to the roof of the car, which buckled and sagged under the weight of the snow and ice-laden tree. It was a Probe – it would sag under the weight of a lightbulb – and here it is being a flatbed for a redwood! My poor baby.
We tied the tree down as best as we could. It was a two-door with no anchor points on the inside. The doors and trunk would not close if there was a rope in the way. So it was held together by knots and the windows clamping onto the rope as tightly as they could. Oh and by my elementary school aged sister. We told her to hold tightly to the rope in the back while we drove. Because, you know, if a hundred pounds of frozen tree decides to shoot off a car doing 60 miles per hour, your best line of defense is a 40-pound ballerina.
We took off for home and had not gotten very far before we became painfully aware of a strong, unpleasant odor filling the car. Oh yeah…the horse poo.
The smell was so horrendous we had to crack the windows a bit. Which A) sent freezing winter wind through our ears and B) loosened the tree ropes a bit, which was evident by my sister’s bulging eyeballs that seemed to fill my rearview mirror as she realized how much she could control the movement of the tree on the roof if she had the strength to do so…and also how incredibly aware she now was about that lack of strength.
It was a long ride home. The icy winds, the thick smell of equestrian dookies, and the panicked whimpers of a young girl was holding on so tight to the rope that she was being lifted off of the seat (and she also freely shifted left and right with each roll of the tree on the roof, which would have been amusing if not for the constant fear of her getting yanked completely out the window).
Fortunately, we succeeded in our journey albeit a little worse for wear. And we never, ever, went tree hunting without my father again.
“Can I refillyoureggnog? Get you something to eat? Driveyououtto the middleof nowhere, leaveyoufor dead?” ~ National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation
My parents, needless to say, are a wee bit obsessed with holidays. And I’m not just talking about Thanksgiving and Christmas and the Fourth of July. I am talking about Groundhog Day, Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Labor Day, and on and on. Their year revolves around when certain decorations need to come down as to allow enough time to enjoy the next holiday’s decorations. However, Christmas is king in their house and the centerpiece to every holiday season is the tree.
When I got married, that was the first time I had ever had an artificial Christmas tree. Before then, my family either went to a local greenhouse and looked at the ones they had already chopped down for us or, when we were feeling extra adventurous, we channelled our inner Griswold and made the trek out into the cold to hunt down our own.
I spent 24 Christmases living with my parents and I participated in the vast majority of those years’ Christmas tree hunts. Most of them just blur together and fade into the background. Except one…
It was just my father and me and we assured my mother and sister we would come back with the PERFECT tree. We weren’t lying. We drove about 20 minutes from our home and visited one of our favorite Christmas tree farms. We walked up and down the rows, working out way into the deep back corners of the property. And there it was. Beautiful, full, dark green, and you could even smell the pine despite the frigid winter winds. The only hesitation it gave us was that…well…it was a little big. I couldn’t even venture a guess as to how tall it was – it towered over the two of us, that’s for sure. But, no joke, it may have been taller than us combined! My father measured to see how high up from the ground we would need to cut to even have a prayer of getting this into the living room.
He marked the trunk and started sawing away. It took a long…loooooong time. The trunk was thicker than a man’s thigh, the snow was deep, the wind was chilling, and the little handsaw we brought was not prepared to be David for our Goliath. Finally, we heard the telltale snap of the trunk and we moved! Neither of us were dumb enough to think we could catch the falling arbor and lower it nicely to the ground. So we pulled back a safe distance and let gravity do the rest. The trunk snapped, the tree fell, and it landed with a echoing “WHOOMP” (There it is…) and we both felt the ground shudder under us. It felt as though an elevator lurched ever so slightly downward beneath our feet. It was then we realized we may have made one helluva mistake…
I grabbed the bottom branches to start pulling the tree back to our car. With one tug, I found myself under the tree – it hadn’t moved an inch, but I succeeded in dragging myself beneath its branches. I crawled out from underneath and my father joined in and it took everything we BOTH had to get that tree to budge. It was impossible to estimate how heavy this tree was – definitely in the hundreds of pounds range – because A) it was huge, B) it was covered in snow, and C) it was so cold all of the water and sap had frozen inside. Add that to the fact we were dragging it through shin-deep snow and you can see how it took us a while to reach our vehicle.
Once back at our car we needed to rely on the kindness of strangers because there was no way the two of us could hoist this behemoth onto the roof.
Notice how low that chassis is riding on the tires in the last one! What you can’t see is how the tree caved in the roof of the car! We had to pop it back out after we got the tree off and it never did look quite the same after that!
On the drive home, whenever we hit a bump we were in danger of bottoming out. The tree shifted on the roof after only 5 minutes of driving and we needed to pull over in fear that if the tree rolled off the roof it would flip the car with it. The 20 minute drive took the better part of an hour considering the snails’ pace we were driving at to make sure we didn’t launch a half-ton pine battering ram into the cars in front of us.
When we arrived home, we realized this sucker wasn’t going through the front door so we needed to bring it to the back porch where we had double doors that opened into the house. Then we realized it wasn’t going to go up the steps to the porch so we had to hoist this tree-zilla up over the bannister before we began removing every piece of furniture we owned in the dining room and living room to make a path.
It took hours of manpower, hundreds of feet of lights, hundreds of ornaments, gallons of water to keep it hydrated, and heavy gauge steel cable to mount it to the wall so it wouldn’t fall over and kill us all on Christmas morning as we peacefully pulled our toothbrushes and tube socks out of our stockings. We were tired, sore, mildly injured, sustained some damage to the car, and we’re pretty sure the tree ate one of the neighbors when they went hiking through our living room – but it sure was pretty!
“Hey Griswold, where do you think you’re gonna put a tree that big?” “Bend over and I’ll show you.” ~ National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation
First I have to apologize for my recent missed posts – I’ve been under the weather AND normal Christmassy stuff got in the way. BUT, I said there would be posts for every day leading up to Christmas and I WILL deliver on that promise! I plan on doubling up a couple days and giving you guys a couple doses of popcorny goodness between now and the time jolly ol’ St. Nicholas squeezes his rump down your chimneys.
Speaking of which, this is THE LAST Top Ten Tuesday before Christmas, so what better focus could there be than the top portrayals of Kris Kringle? So here we go: the TOP TEN BEST PORTRAYALS OF SANTA.
#10 – Tom Hanks in “The Polar Express”
Not gonna lie – this movie creeps me the hell out. The characters are too real and not real enough at the same time. Like those creepy Asian “service” dolls they’ve invented. Just skeeves me out looking at the dead eyes and the mouths that are kind of moving to the words but seem to be a bit too fluid. Yeesh – gonna have nightmares now. HOWEVER, Tom Hanks lends his voice (and his actions via motion capture) to combine a portrayal of your favorite uncle’s warmth and a superhero’s majestic poise to bring about a Santa Claus that raises the hair on the back of the neck of your inner child. That “star struck” feeling of your childhood when you got to that line at the mall and saw HIM sitting on his throne waiting for you to come sit on his lap.
#9 – Oliver Clark & #8 -Douglas Seale in “Ernest Saves Christmas”
Ernest movies are a guilty pleasure of mine – along with Pauly Shore – and I have a soft spot for Jim Varney’s lovable doofus. However, I could never ask you to take me seriously ever again if I were to include ANY Ernest movie on the top 10 list of cinematic masterpieces (“To Kill A Mockingbird,” “Citizen Kane,” and “Ernest: Scared Stupid” just doesn’t seem that credible). However, it fits on this list not once BUT TWICE. The Ernest storyline is garbage, the reindeer in the airport storyline is forgettable, the homeless kleptomaniac who sees the err of her ways is a barf-worthy redemption story that even the Hallmark Channel thinks is too cheesy. BUT Douglas Seale plays an aging Santa Claus in search of his replacement and Oliver Clark plays an actor who is topping the list of Santa Claus successors. Both Santas are human and flawed men and they let the chinks in their armor show, but they both know that children need Santa and no matter what hubris or missteps they have been guilty of, they never put the children’s beliefs in the Holiday Spirit in jeopardy. “Y’know what I mean, Vern?”
#7 – Charles Durning in “Elmo Saves Christmas”
What the hell is wrong with Christmas that it always needs to be saved?! And why is it alway up to people like Ernest and Elmo to save it? Why not Batman or Rambo? What’s Elmo going to do – look how he saved Sesame Street – Ernie and Bert are all but on public assistance, all of Big Bird’s songs have been rerecorded with Elmo taking the lead; it’s basically Elmo Street. And he’s too fuzzy and cute for you to realize he’s Napoleon! That’s one reason I love Charles Durning’s Santa Claus; St. Nick doesn’t put up with Elmo’s crap! He’s like the second Dumbledore – the first one was soft spoken and warm; the second isn’t afraid to lay the smackdown. The movie is called “Elmo Saves Christmas” but in all actuality he’s the dumbass that puts it in jeopardy in the first place. Here enters Santa who, without being mean and scary for the kids, tells Elmo, in no uncertain terms, “You done messed up, you furry little meal ticket, now man up and fix what you broke.” Sometimes Santa needs to lay a healthy helping of tough love on you.
#6 – Andrew Hill Newman in “A Wish For Wings That Work”
This little-known Christmas cartoon, featuring Opus and Bill and other Bloom County/Outland favorites, is a hidden treasure. If you have never seen it, forget hunting down a streaming version or a rental option, just go to Amazon and treat yourself to a copy to keep. Irreverent humor like the comic strip and true holiday warmth mixed together in equal helping. As for Santa’s role, it is very small but Newman’s voice is what I’ve always thought Santa truly sounds like:
Also, he doesn’t give the protagonist what he wants for Christmas – in an original twist away from the perfect gift showing up at the last moment – he gives him a solution to his underlying problem thereby improving his life permanently. Santa is better than any guidance counselor any of us has ever had.
#5 – Tim Allen in “The Santa Clause” Trilogy
Okay, we’re going to skip over the whole part about how he only got the job because of the involuntary manslaughter that caused the original Père Noel to plummet to his death leaving his crumpled corpse at the feet of a small child who is already in need of counseling due to his parents’ ugly divorce EXCEPT that his stepfather IS a counselor who psychoanalyzes the kid at every turn. DESPITE the grim premise, Tim Allen turns into one of the quintessential modern day Santa Clauses who adds the extra twist of balancing his duties of being Father Christmas and still being just Dad. How can Santa play favorites among millions of children? And how can a father neglect the needs of his only child for the needs of strangers? Forget Tim “The Toolman” and Buzz Lightyear, this will be the role he will be remembered for.
#4 – Ed Asner in “Elf”
This movie is just plain old Christmas fun and childlike silliness. Ed Asner puts aside the usual teddy bear-like Santa character and just lets the jolliness show. He is still warm and festive, but there is just an extra dash of fun and whimsy that feeds into Will Ferrell’s…well…Will Ferrellness. Santa’s advice about “free candy” is absolute genius and should be added to all parenting books.
#3 – David Huddleston in “Santa Claus: The Movie”
WARNING: This movie sucks like a Hoover vacuum. It is an ungodly massacre of modern cinema. The fact that you need to put “The Movie” in the title for a movie is a red flag. “Hey audience, by the way, this is a movie…hence why you’re all sitting in a movie theater. Don’t try to talk to, or touch, or in any way try to interact with the giant people who are about to show up on this big light up wall, because they aren’t real. That’s why this is ‘Santa Claus: The Movie’ and not ‘Santa Claus: The Real Person You Can Talk To,’ or ‘Santa Claus: The Dancing Puppets Made Of Tropical Fruit Slam Poetry Extravaganza.'” However, despite it being 99% unwatchable – that last remaining 1% shows us a portrayal of Santa that proves to children how magical he really is. Not good enough to save this movie, but if you come across this movie somewhere, do yourself a favor and just fast forward to Huddleston’s scenes – he instantly sparks the Christmas Spirit no matter what time of year it might be.
#2 – Richard Attenborough in “A Miracle on 34th St.” (1994)
The only downside to this performance was that he couldn’t find a way to work in the line “Welcome…to Jurassic Park.” I usually balk at remakes, ESPECIALLY movies so well-done and classic they should be deemed untouchable. There have been other versions of “The Wizard of Oz,” but no direct remakes. No one would stand for a reboot of “The Godfather” or “Gone with the Wind” – so this one made me reeeeeeeeally skeptical. But Richard Attenborough channelled the spirit of the jolly ol’ elf, stayed true enough to the original, and still made his performance unique enough to stand on its own. Come to think of it, I’m not even really sure I remember anything else from this remake – just Santa.
#1 – Edmund Gwenn in “A Miracle on 34th St.” (1948)
Nothing compares to the original. Gwenn won an Academy Award for this performance, but more than that he became what we think about when we think of Santa. Whimsical, funny, warm, kind, the protector of children, and a moral compass (and Lord knows we need help in that department). If you ask me (which you didn’t, but you don’t have a choice because it’s my blog and I say what I want) I wouldn’t be surprised if Santa used Edmund Gwenn as an alias and portrayed himself in this movie. It’s fitting that in a movie where there is a fight to believe in Santa’s existence there is a performance that removes any doubt in your mind that he’s real.
“Whoow! Now I know there’s a Santa Claus. Oh, you may laugh, ladies and gentlemen. It’s not so easy to be certain, you know. He’s a most elusive little fellow. He turns up in all sorts of places under all sorts of names and disguises.” ~ Edmund Gwenn from his acceptance speech after receiving the Academy Award for Outstanding Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role
I received a lot of feedback about Tuesday’s top 10 list of lame Christmas songs. Apparently I had hit a lot of the crappy classics (“crappics”), but a couple readers threw in their two cents. In fact, I had enough two cents to think I needed to follow up on my post (pretty much a dime if you add all the two cents up) – but I couldn’t have a TOP 5 list…that’s pretty lame. And I couldn’t hate on enough other Christmas songs to create another full Top 10 list. So, being Sunday, I deemed it worthy of a NEW Bobbing for Popcorn feature that I could utilize in such cases as this – when you, my dear sweet little kernels (Lady Gaga has her “little monsters,” you guys are my “little kernels” – cuz of the popcorn thing…and I’m like the bowl…and you are unpopped and hurt people’s teeth…you know, never mind, this is stupid) have ideas of your own that you would like to add to my posts which…
I WELCOME AND ENCOURAGE ALL THE TIME!!!
Please, please, please – like, share, comment, subscribe – on here, or Facebook, or Twitter, or the B4P email – GET INVOLVED AND SHARE THE POPCORNY GOODNESS!
But, without further ado, the first ever SUPPLEMENTAL SEVEN SUNDAY created by a combined effort of YOU and ME.
7. Jingle Bells – Barbra Streisand
This might be the only Christmas song that would put you into an epileptic seizure. Maybe it’s because she’s technically used to Hanukkah and Christmas was not in her upbringing but, Babs, calm the hell down. The stores get their Christmas stuff out in October – we’ve got time. Besides, it’s Jingle Bells. Jingle freaking Bells. The easiest and most common song in the Christmas cannon. First graders are given this tune when their short-sighted music teachers give them each a recorder to bring home and practice – “Hot Cross Buns,” “Twinkle, Twinkle,” and “Jingle Bells.” No need to reinvent the wheel here.
6. 12 Days of Christmas – every-freakin’-body
I’m talking about the original, but I’m posting the Straight No Chaser version for your enjoyment. I love this version because it illustrates just how ridiculous the original song is. What are these things? Why is my true love buying me all this garbage?! And PEOPLE?!! Are we even allowed to buy people?!! And you can count yourself among the very few if you can honestly remember all these lyrics without having to look them up. I swear when they wrote this song, they had to fill a butt load of time at the end of a concert and decided to make one song and milk it for all it was worth. Best stalling tactic song in history! And it says something if a song has MULTIPLE parodies that are played during the holidays as much as the original! If you can become a Christmas classic by making fun of ANOTHER Christmas classic, then that original definitely deserves to be on this list. If you haven’t already, check out Bob Rivers’ “12 Pains of Christmas” and, of course, The Muppet cover of this tune.
5. Holiday Feeling – Steve Lawrence & Eydie Gorme
Though not as bad as “Baby It’s Cold Outside,” this dude is still pretty much only trying to “stuff the stocking,” if you know what I mean. It’s also chockfull of lyrics that must have been put together by one of those Refrigerator Magnet Poetry sets. “Look how the snow is snowing.” Yup, what does snow do? Snow snows. Horses gallop, birds fly, and snow snows. We will also turn mistletoe into a verb and decide we really want to use the word “party” and must logically work the word “smarty” into the lyrics later in this cavity-inducing, syrupy sweet attempt for a woman to feel the spirit of Christmas and her man’s desperate attempts to get said woman into bed. Fa-la-la-la-la.
4. Feliz Navidad – Jose Feliciano
Did you know that, to win a bet, Dr. Seuss wrote Green, Eggs, and Ham using only 50 words? He repeated them over and over adding a new twist here and there to keep the story moving, but for the most part “I will not eat,” “Would you try them on/in/with a,” and “Green eggs and ham” were the central words in the text and he supplemented them with “goat” and “tree” and “train” and so on. But the fact is, these “goats” and “trees” and “trains” kept the cannon words from getting stale. Jose Feliciano, however, did not. He used 20 words (21 if you count “Ahaaa!”). No change, no supplements, just Spanish verse, English chorus, same Spanish verse, same English chorus, ad nauseum. Aye carumba.
3. Donde esta Santa Claus? – Augie Rios
I have nothing against Spanish music! I swear! But this song sucks!!! Who is this kid calling “Mamacita,” first of all? The literal translation is “little mama.” So either his mother is an elf, he’s using a pet name for his girlfriend (who I hope is also 7 years old like this kid sounds), or he’s doing his best to be the Latino prepubescent Elvis. Secondly, could we shove any more stereotypes in here?! Castinets? The reindeers named Poncho and Pedro?!! The backup singers mimicking mariachi horns?!!! And does he really say “I know that I should be the sleeping”? THE sleeping?!! You might as well leave rice and beans out instead of milk and cookies!! This sounds like someone asked the Texas Border Militia to write this song! Ay dios mio!
2. Snoopy’s Christmas – The Royal Guardsmen
What do you get when you mix a beloved cartoon, a World War I fighter pilot with 80 confirmed kills, and drinking? A Christmas song! This might be the only Christmas song to feature canon fire and machine guns. Sure the war claimed between 15 and 18 million lives BUT Snoopy (who was about to get gunned down which would effectively make this the only Christmas song to have a beloved cartoon character die in combat set to the cheery upbeat sound of bells) luckily was shown mercy, landed his plane with his sworn enemy, boozed it up a bit, and then took off in the hopes of murdering each other once again in aerial combat. Again I say, Fa-la-la-la-la.
1. We Wish You the Merriest – Les Brown
How this one escaped my first list, I have no idea. I think I just scrubbed it so hard from my memory that it snuck through the cracks. In any case, here it is; it would definitely vie for one of the top spots on the original list, and I have no words to describe the ear gouging horror that this song emanates on the airwaves. This song is proof that even Satan celebrates Christmas and has enjoyed writing a carol or two that will torment his trapped souls in the most festive way possible.
“The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.” ~ Elf
My ear is bleeding and I could not be happier! I got stabbed in the ear by a tree branch – well I pretty much got stabbed everywhereby tree branches (yes…everywhere). But it was all totally worth it because my house is glowing brighter than the surface of the sun!
I’m not an outdoorsy person; I hate being cold, and not a huge fan of ladders but I love, as Clark W. Griswold would say, “exterior illumination.” I’m a bit obsessed, actually. It started with a few strings around a couple evergreens we had in our front yard…then a few more strings to go around the porch…then some giant bulbs to go along the walk way. Next thing I knew I was climbing up to the peaks of my house to run strings on blinking icicles and buying strings of lights by the dozens! If there was a support group, I should probably attend. Especially when I was searching for the Peanuts gang to add to the display.
Who doesn’t love A Charlie Brown Christmas? It’s a favorite in our house and I thought it would be cool to have a little “Peanuts” tree in the middle of the yard. But I couldn’t find one I liked. So I made one. Plywood, paint, and a metal stake. But who would celebrate this little tree? I needed Charlie Brown…and Snoopy…and Linus…but he needs to come with Lucy…and soon I had made eleven 3-foot characters including Peppermint Patty, Marcie, and Franklin – none of whom were in the original.
But, come on, they should have been. Violet looks too much like Lucy, Frieda is not the little red haired girl – she just obsesses over her “naturally curly hair,” no one gives a crap about Shermy (seriously, who the hell names their kid “Shermy”?!!), and the other three didn’t even rank high enough to get names! The boy in orange is named 555 95472, “5” for short. (not even kidding! Look it up!) And the creepy Shining wannabe twins with thinning hair issues? They’re named 333 95472 and 444 95472 – yup, “3” and “4” for short. Peppermint Patty, Marcie, and Franklin are way cooler and a much bigger part of the Peanuts gang…plus I kinda feel bad that Franklin had to sit by himself at Thanksgiving (again, not even kidding! Look it up!) See! You can even learn a bunch of crap by reading my blog! You’re welcome. Tell your friends…no, seriously…tell them…I’m trying to make money off this thing.
I’d like to think our display is all set and we don’t need to expand it any more. That we would just maintain what we do now, but I can’t be trusted. Tonight, as I was putting the finishing touches on our decorations, I broke a bulb and needed to go to Home Depot to get a replacement so that we could just maintain what we currently have…but I ended up coming home with two pre-lit potted porch trees and a matching wreath.
…and 500 more lights.
…I need help.
“Is your house on fire, Clark?”
“No, Aunt Bethany, those are the Christmas lights.” ~ Christmas Vacation