I know, I know, it’s too early to talk about the upcoming Christmas season. But since I’ve seen lights and heard the insipid seasonal tunes blaring since mid September, I figure it’s high time I make known my demands of the holiday season. These are non-negotiable items and, should they fail to be met, absolutely nothing will be done about it.
Nonetheless, you have been warned.
The 12 Demands Of Christmas
- I demand that no Rod Stewart Christmas songs be played, anywhere. As if his “catalog” of standards weren’t bad enough, apparently Mr. Stewart thinks we wish to be warbled to in the most unholy fashion during this season: the crooning duet. Don’t believe me? Check out this link here, a rendition of “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” with Dolly Parton. Somewhere, little baby Jesus just puked all over his swaddling and myrrh. Rod, stick with “Forever Young”, the only song of yours that doesn’t resemble the sound of angry cats mating.
- Furthermore, I demand that inflatable yard ornaments be cut with a knife by neighborhood hooligans. No one needs life sized snow globes in their yard, any more than they need busted water heaters and fighting chickens. To summarize: light displays creative origin = good, hot air balloon sized caricatures of Santa bent over an inflatable chimney = horrific.
- Next up, I demand that every man, woman and child be forced to commit the movie National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation to memory. Let’s face it: most likely, no one reading this was alive when “It’s A Wonderful Life” was filmed, and though fans will angrily rise up and defend the piece as timeless, we can no longer relate realistically to that era. Christmas Vacation, however, is the story of every awkward, chaotic family gathering that we’ve all known too well. Plus, Beverly D’Angelo is a vision in that short green cocktail dress, the sassier and sexy Mrs. Cleaver of our generation.
- Eggnog shall from this moment forward be banned, much in the same manner as DDT. I had the unfortunate experience as a child of running out of milk for my cereal, and, well….you can just guess how that all played out. BANNED!
- Demand: more parties this time of year, involving mistletoe, people with shortsighted decision making habits and any alcoholic beverage (except eggnog).
- I demand that there be a less anti-climactic post-Christmas. We spend three months gearing up for the day, only to have it all over two hours after we wake up. The Road SHOULD Go On Forever, And The Party SHOULD NEVER End. Or, at least make it last a couple of days. The Jewish people are on to this gig, making their celebration last longer than Octomom’s moment in the bright lights.
- I demand Justin Beiber’s head on a plate, preferably to the chorus of a million wailing girls and their ridiculous moms.
- Christmas Season Demand #8: the return of the 3 martini lunch. In our pc/lawsuit-driven world, we’ve lost the authenticity of a people who can create with a little firewater on board. Admit it: no one went out for a wheatgrass and hummus smoothie while designing the lunar landing craft. Had it been suggested, that person would’ve been shot on sight for being a commie-sympathizer. And no jury would’ve convicted.
- I demand that holiday shoppers be armed when sales (ie- Black Friday) are held. As well, these sales will be cage-style Mad Max deathmatch events. You want that damn Tickle Me Uncle Henry doll so bad? How about you try to grab it from a velvet sweatsuit-wearing, chain smoking grandmother wielding a Stihl 044 chainsaw? That would be worth getting up at 3am to observe.
- Next, I demand that every male over age 4 has a dickie turtle neck and is forced to wear it with a sleeveless vest, tastefully embroidered in a hideous fashion. Don’t know what one is? Lookie here, or in any family Christmas picture from the 70’s. Said outfit is to be worn from Nov. 17- Dec. 31st.
- I want a partridge, and I want it in a pear tree. There must be something delectable about this combination, because we’ve been droning on about it for the last 672 years. Will it live up to the sonic hype? My demand shall answer that question.
- Lastly, I demand that people embrace an old friend at least once this season. I’ve burned enough bridges to really miss some folks lately, and despite my idiocy, it is my hope that we can see past our pig-headed ways and remember what made us such great compadres in the first place. It starts with a pint of Guinness and a grasping of the shoulders; if you’re lucky, it ends with passing out in a gutter covered in reckless memories.