A Song About Nothing
Well it has come to my attention that people are getting crazier. This is not new information, as we all must admit we get a little crazier with each passing day. Crazy is a relative term, meaning you judge your personal sanity against the lucidity of your other crazy relatives. The pinnacle of madness of our own crazy world is often revealed during the month of December when Tis the Season is being forced to justify Tis the Reason.
In an attempt to not offend, which usually leads to the opposite outcome of offending all, I will offer a simple solution to all as they anticipate gathering around office parties singing Christmas songs. I have attempted to sanitize a song you might be forced to sing, after your company’s Season’s Greetings party runs out of mix.
In order to keep some semblance of new correctness among your fellow celebrators, please use the lyric below when crooning this old chestnut of a song.
Your first reaction might be, this is too damn hard to sing within the normal stanzas each verse provides. There are too many extra words that don’t even rhyme, and none of this new rendition makes any sense! My response to this rather weak argument is nobody is listening to the words anyway, as raffle numbers are being drawn to see who won the large gift basket with exotic coffees, Belgian chocolates and two large boxes of crackers.
The truth is it takes a lot more words to be inoffensive. Short verse can lead to innuendo and misinterpretations that inevitably lead to declaration of war. Verbosity is a small price to pay for a more joyful world, not to be mistaken for another carol, Joy to the World. I do not have the time right now to properly rewrite that holiday classic, and how do you stop heaven and nature from singing anyway?
The Christmas Song now retitled
A Song About Nothing
Chestnuts roasting on an annually safety inspected, asbestos free, enclosed fireplace.
Jack Frost appropriately touching, your slightly surgically altered nose.(No nipping please)
You’ll try Carols (without any religious affiliation whatsoever) being sung by a choir (with equal gender and cultural representation)
And folks dressed up like First Nation’s people from the North.
Everybody knows the tofu and the mistletoe (bought exclusively at your local farmer’s market)
Helps to make the season (without specifically declaring what season this is) bright (as long as this brightness is illuminated by candles or low watt environmentally friendly recycled bulbs)
Tiny tots, (who get every gift they demand) with their hearts all aglow, (see bright).
Will find it hard to sleep (with the video baby monitor, and oil based ultrasonic diffuser and two well padded carbon monoxide detectors in the crib) tonight.
They know that Santa (who is a perfect cultural mix of Latino, Asian, Black, White and Arab with just a pinch of Norwegian blood) is on his way. (Obeying all speed limits and carpooling with local commuters.)
He’s got lots of toys (all toys have passed extensive combustion testing and must now take a minimum three hours to put together… batteries not included) and goodies (and by goodies we mean healthy foods only vegans will eat) on his sleigh (not slay).
And every mother’s (mothers who get equal pay, no mention of the sexual orientation or fathers with their cross gender leanings) child is gonna spy (within the rules of homeland security and not like Andrew Snowden, though snow is always welcome)
To see if reindeer (not hunted for sport unless you are a dentist) really know how to fly (I would not venture to fly into Turkey air space, but who doesn’t love Turkey this time of year )
And so I offer you this simple phrase (that even spell check will approve, your brother in law will correct the grammar)
To kids from 1 to 92. (People over 93 are kind of on they own to fend for yourself, unless their pension still has strong health care coverage)
I know it’s been said (Twitter will confirm if this has really been said) many times many ways (by many ways, I really mean the one and only acceptable way)
Merry Christmas to you! (Sorry, I still really like that phrase)
As you read this, understand I am currently working of the sanitization of Oh Holy Night that I hope to complete by Christmas Eve. Rest assured there will be no mention of “Fall on your knees” to avoid any chance of potential double entendre or inappropriate images that term may generate in others less holier than I.
Cue the Blong: I am reblonging because I have never used the word reblonging before. My vocabulary continues to expand.