Okay, I lied when I said I wouldn’t blog again before Christmas. I was bored at work yesterday, and I decided to rewrite the classic poem Twas the Night Before Christmas” to apply to today’s currenl climate.
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was cold, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with ease,
The windows wide open to let in a breeze.
The children attempted to nestle snugly in their beds,
But couldn’t unless they held ice packs on their heads.
For global warming was upon us, no snow was in sight,
Oh the things we would not do for a bit of frost bite.
When out on the lawn – there arose such a clatter!
Hopefully a blizzard delivering white matter!
Away to the window I went in a glide,
Praying to God that the heat would subside.
The moon, it lit up my front lawn like a screen,
I blinked twice, hoping to see a shade of white, not green.
But what I see is not snow, to my heart’s dismay,
But fuckin’ Santa Claus and his goddamn sleigh.
Not an ounce of winter blast, not even a lick,
Instead I was stuck with jolly old St. Nick.
My eyes scanned for his reindeer – but then a realization!
They all had dropped dead from mass dehydration.
Unprepared for the warm, but Santa did not care,
Depriving them water as they flew threw the air.
To know the temperature’s changing, Santa, you needn’t be a sleuth,
Did you not watch Al Gore’s “An Inconvenient Truth?”
Although Gatorade will claim it’s better equipped,
More so than water to give your energy a lift.
But our dear Kris Kringle ignored all the facts,
He lumbered on forward with a sack on his back.
And now he is here, in front of my dwelling,
His gifts I don’t want unless they are heat repelling.
A fan, an air conditioner, or new refrigerator,
A klondike bar, a popsicle, a cool incubator.
But what does he bring me? A gift card? Some mittens?
God damn it Santa Claus – leave my house, good riddance!
For this is no longer Christmas of years before,
Mittens may have sufficed back in 2004.
But polar shifts and climate changes have forever changed December.
It’s no longer the Christmastime we all long remember!
Go back to the North Pole, but beware — when you touch ground,
The ice will have melted and your elves will have drowned.
Oh maybe I’m harsh — It’s not all Santa’s fault,
Science is to blame; ocean currents, lack of salt.
I’d rather have not known and lived on in bliss,
And then maybe, just maybe, I’d have enjoyed Christmas.
So hand me your gifts, I’ll accept them all the same,
If it’s a new winter jacket, you cannot be blamed.
Maybe, in the future, cold shall return to this place.
And then I could make use of this brand new North Face.
In the meantime, Santa, spread your holiday cheer!
And find a replacement for your recently departed deer.
Christmas is changing, but you should not fear it,
We still need you to spread the holiday spirit!
And with those inspiring words, Santa gave out a whistle,
Hopped in his sleigh and departed like a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a cold night!”