I did this last year and I realized there was more than enough for another glimpse or two this December. We're at that time of year where radio stations flip to all Yuletide formats. All Christmas, all the time, for about six weeks. Some songs are wonderful and bear repeating. Others, however, should come around just once a year and then be relegated to Vinyl Hell. And, when you listen to some of the asinine lyrics (and subtext), you can't help but crack wise...
Frosty the Snowman: Bulletin for all children in love with this guy. The shit melts.
There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays by Perry Como: Not sure what was going on at Perry's house, but I have a lasting memory of my mother trying to take a swing at my grandmother with one of those Pillsbury croissant containers. The first 30 seconds of this song, as done by Como, can lull me to sleep whereever I am. Are we sure his last name hasn't been misspelled by one letter?
I Want a Hippotamus for Christmas: This piece of junk, sung by some ten year-old, is making the rounds this year and it causes cavities. By the way, if you get a hippotamus for Christmas, there's more to worry about under the tree than just pine needles. And, kid, you want the pet but it's Daddy who will be stuck walking it. This was apparently a big hit in 1953, so I suppose we can blame it all on Joseph McCarthy and the Red Scare.
Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow: A big favorite with the NYC Department of Sanitation who's always looking for overtime.
Silver Bells: We did a version of this when I was a kid. "Silver bells, Santa smells, and Easter's on its way."
Here Comes Santa Claus Right Down Santa Claus Lane: Because it doesn't work the same if Santa's coming down the Belt Parkway.
Holly Jolly Christmas: Rhetorical question---is holly a noun or an adjective? Because, from this song, I can't really tell. Another ditty by Burl Ives who worked just one month a year.
The Twelve Days of Christmas: Twelve drummers drumming, eleven pipers piping, ten lords a leaping, nine ladies dancing, eight maids a milking, seven swans a swimming, six geese a laying, five golden rings, four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree. All purchased on-line from Crap.com.
We Wish You a Merry Christmas: And you can throw that figgy pudding in the garbage, too.
The Little Drummer Boy: "The ox and lamb kept time. Pa rum pum pum pum." Wow, that's impressive. Worthy of Stupid Pet Tricks on Letterman.
Mamacita, Donde Esta Santa Claus: Obviously played a lot in Los Angeles. A little Mexican kid wonders where Santa is. What's Spanish for "in the trunk of the car?"
I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus: That's what you saw before they moved to the other room. Perhaps this was the prelude to Gene Autry's "Here Comes Santa Claus."
Deck the Halls: "Don we now our gay apparel..." Insert your own joke here. Noel, Noel. Noel: Either a Christmas carol or a Chicago lamentation about a transit strike
Dinner last night: Hot dog.
4 comments:
Como is not a homo. He was a barber, not a hairdresser.
This does bring to mind the unofficial campaign slogan from a NY Mayoral race in the 1970's:
Vote for Cuomo, Not the Homo! Nice, Mario.
Okay, this is how viral rumors get started. I am referring to Perry Como's ability to put people to sleep. So, the joke is the letter in question would change him from Como to Coma.
Some people need to read these entries more carefully.
Maybe they just can't read
I can read.
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