Sometimes there is no choice but to second-guess the wisdom of holiday songs.
Just think. What would happen if you did as instructed in “Holly Jolly Christmas” and actually said hello to “everyone you meet”?
Chances are, people would assume that you are nuts. Or worse.
Now consider “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” Would it really have been “a laugh” if daddy had seen this amorous scene unfolding right there in the living room?
Sure, sure, I know it’s actually the father in a Santa suit. I’m just saying that the song’s child narrator has a lot to learn about marriage.
And what about the hard-line policy position espoused in “We Wish You a Merry Christmas”?
Would declaring that “We won’t go until we get some” actually expedite the preparation and presentation of figgy pudding?
The list goes on. Take the modern song “Last Christmas.”
Last Christmas I gave you my heart
But the very next day you gave it away
This year to save me from tears
I’ll give it to someone special
So we’re supposed to believe that in one year’s time this moony dope has learned how to spot true love? He now knows the difference between a she-snake and “someone special”? I doubt it.
Let’s move on.
Once the snowpack is in place: I’m not saying people shouldn’t shovel. If they’re up to it, they should. But because of our puddle-forming thaw/refreeze cycles, assiduously cleared sidewalks sometimes wind up being the most treacherous.
If you don’t believe me, ask someone who works in an ER.
Speaking of sidewalks: I’ve noticed that people who live on lots that don’t even have them tend to be among the most vocal critics of homeowners who fall behind in sidewalk-clearing when plows shove 64 tons of ice chunks into the perfect path the dutiful shoveler just carved out.
It says here: Predawn middle-of-the-street runners who don’t make themselves visible shouldn’t drag innocent dogs into their insanity.
Today’s Slice question: In terms of his or her ability to instantly prompt polarized reactions, who is Spokane’s Confederate flag?