And to celebrate this freedom, I'm having a contest.
It's easy. In the comments, nominate your choice for the CHEESIEST, HOKIEST, SCHMOOZIEST Christmas song EVER. (And just make sure you're a follower of the blog, too. But that's not hard. Just click on the Follow button.)
If your comment is selected (at random), I'll send you a box of our city of Prosser's famous Chukar Cherries (just ask other people who have won these, they're super delicious) ... because maybe all we need is a little sweetness to chase that Scrooge away.
This contest is open internationally, so please don't hesitate to enter! **Contest will be open for five days, closing on Monday, December 20 at 11:59p.m. PST. **
And now, without further ado, my own nomination for CHEESIEST, HOKIEST, SCHMOOZIEST Christmas song EVER.
Song Synopsis: A poor little boy in tattered clothes is in a shoe store on Christmas Eve buying his mother a pair of shoes. He explains very eloquently to the cashier that his mother is sick -- no, worse than that! -- she's on the verge of death and he wants to buy these shoes so she'll look pretty if she meets Jesus tonight. He counts out his pennies, but -- horrors! -- he doesn't have enough to pay for the shoes. So he turns to the person in line behind him and explains his story. The person behind him pays the rest of the money for the shoes.
Why I think this song deserves the Title of Cheesiest, Hokiest, Schmooziest Christmas song ever:
(1) The songwriter definitely laid it on thick. S/he could have left it at a poor little boy's kind gesture to his hard-working mother, or even just left it at a sick mother. But no, the mother has to be DYING. And not just dying. Probably dying TONIGHT. ON CHRISTMAS EVE. The writer had one object in mind: to make everybody bawl their eyes out. Problem is, when you lay it on too thick, you get your share of Scrooges (me!) being critical.
(2) The songwriter probably does not have much experience with kids. I know this because of my seven-year-old son's reaction to this song. It was playing on the radio in the car the other day and we had the following conversation:
Me: Gabe, if I were dying, would you go out and buy me shoes?
Gabe: No. (Stops to think) I'd buy you medicine.
Anna: Me too! I'd buy you medicine, Mom.
Gabe: Besides, if his Mom is about to see Jesus she doesn't need new shoes. Jesus wouldn't even see her shoes because she'd go to heaven and you can't take shoes with you to heaven.
Me: Hmm. Very good point, Gabe.
Gabe: So that boy just wasted his money.
Me: Yep. I guess so.
See, children are better philosophers than we give them credit for. (And now you have evidence of how I drag my own children into my own Scrooginess.)
On a side note: what little boy would ever think of buying his mother shoes? I mean, if he wants her to look nice, I think a little boy would think of a new dress. Not shoes. Do men ever think of shoes?
Of course, you don't need to go into this much detail when you nominate your choice for cheesiest, hokiest, schmooziest Christmas song ever. I just did it for the
Now have fun in the comments being Scrooge for a few minutes. Go ahead, be critical of Christmas cheer and mushy feelings.
And Bah Humbug to you, too!