Just heard this stupid song for the fifty-seventh time this year.
Please take a moment to familiarize yourself with the lyrics in the link above.
I cringe every time I hear that song. I hate it mostly because it’s contrived above and beyond my tolerance for the contrived.
Then there’s this problem I have with the values it conveys.
Is there a need to kill off some kid’s mother in song in order to make the point that we should go out and spend money we don’t have at Christmas? Don’t we do that enough already without anyone’s mother having to die? Really now?
I’d like to think if I’m ever on my deathbed on Christmas Eve, I’d want Charlotte sitting next to me, holding my hand – not at the damn mall, buying me pumps.
But, who knows? Maybe I’d scream out crazy shit if I was delirious enough with fever…
One Possible But Unlikely Christmas Future:
I’m covered in sweat, looking pale and I’m Ally McBeal skinny. It’s obvious I don’t have long. My eyes look glazed, and I’ve begun raving at the walls and seeing dark visages. Charlotte is at my side.
“Get me some new boots! I’m dying. Bootsies is what I need. They’re on sale at Walmart. Fifty percent off! It’s a one day only sale! Get your little tail out of here before they run outta my size!… Oh my God!…It’s the Zinger Zapper! We don’t have Zingers! He’s gonna eat my soul instead!…”
I cough blood into a hankie. Charlotte is still standing there, stunned.
I continue, quite deranged, “What are you looking all wide-eyed and sad for? You heard me. Shoes! Now!”
As soon as she leaves the room, my fever breaks and I become more like myself again, but it’s too late. She’s off to buy shoes. And maybe Zingers.
Then, doubtless, some poor dumb bastard will spot her counting pennies in the checkout line and write yet another song about “Christmas Shoes” and maternal death – as if one song on that topic weren’t more than enough.