Deck Us All With Boston Charlie . . .

by Hardy Peacock

“Deck Us All With Boston Charlie…” Pogo Possum, Circa 1954.

I am not a curmudgeon! I’m not. I promise. I really, really love Christmas. I love all the decorations, the colors, the season, the music. Especially the music. I know all the words to Deck Us All With Boston Charlie. I do not wear a black sweatshirt with, “Bah, Humbug!” emblazoned upon it.

Clarification/Rumination #1

Well, okay I actually do occasionally wear a sweatshirt exactly as described, but it is a souvenir of one of the numerous productions of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol that I have been in. I love the play, too. No, I have never played Ebenezer Scrooge. I have been Marley’s Ghost, The Ghost of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, Scrooge’s nephew (Fred), the Undertaker, and various other roles, but never Scrooge. Come to think of it I haven’t played Tiny Tim, either, but I enjoy the story and the lesson. I even echo Tiny Tim’s sentiment of, “God Bless us everyone!”

I realio, trulio love Christmas!

That said, I have about had it with a lot of extraneous hoopla that seems in danger of becoming faux-traditional.

Clarification/Rumination #2

Whatever happened to putting up the Christmas tree shortly before Christmas (even on Christmas Eve) and leaving it up until after New Year’s? I thought the Christmas tree was to stay up until Epiphany. (If you care Epiphany is January 6th and is traditionally the day the Magi arrived at Bethlehem.)

I have a neighbor that spends all afternoon on Christmas Day removing, tearing down, throwing out, and whatever all the Christmas Decorations in her home and yard. She says that she can’t wait to get it over with. She puts up elaborate decorations, but by sundown on each Christmas Day all vestiges of the holiday have been erased.

I have suggested that if her true goal is just to get it over with that perhaps August would be a good time to get it out of the way, but she didn’t take to the suggestion. She also does elaborate Halloween decorations; she skips Thanksgiving so the Christmas stuff goes up on November 1st and by December 25th she has had it.

The reason for this diatribe is because I really care. I love the decorations. I love the season. I love the spirit. I love the music, but some of this stuff…

However you package it, tripe is tripe!

When you consider all of the great music that is available, why do we have the same inane jingles that are force-fed from the middle of October and on through Christmas, ad infinitum.

Rudolph is okay, but every time you turn on the radio?

Clarificatiion/Rumination #3

Keep in mind that in the South you can say almost anything about anyone if you preface or follow your statement with the phrase, “Bless your heart.” Burl Ives was an American Treasure. He sang folksongs when no one else could be bothered. He collected material that would be lost without his efforts. He sang beautifully. He starred in movies in a wide variety of roles that included Osh Pottam in a Walt Disney film and Big Daddy in Tennessee Williams’ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. (He may have received an Academy Award nomination for that one.) The man was talented.

But Burl, bless your heart, I am so tired of hearing Burl Ives sing Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas, that I may have to bite someone. Enough, already! This ludicrous, pointless, asinine little jingle has been imprinted on my brain for more than a month. It seems to be on an endless tape somewhere in the recesses of my mind (don’t go there) and plays and replays continuously. Why this piece of drivel? Why here? Why now? Why me?

Remember the neighbor that I mentioned earlier? Bless her heart, too.

Well, I’m glad that is over. I said it and I’m glad.

It is the Christmas Season. It is the best time of the year. It is time for Christmas Cantatas at church. It is time to read A Visit from St. Nicholas by Clement Moore to a child. (No, it is NOT, “T’was the Night Before Christmas.” That is the first line, not the name of the poem.)

It is a time for Adeste Fidelis. It is a time for Peace on Earth.

It is time for a few Christmas wishes, so here are a few.

For this nation I wish peace.

For all of us in this small, wonderful state I wish all the good things we deserve and can stand.

For all of us in the strange industry I wish good business practices, strong margins, and fairness.

For this organization I wish continued growth and more opportunities to serve.

For Ann I wish a good, old-time, knock-‘em-down, drag-‘em-out, fun legislative session with legislators that will keep their word. (We really need this. The wolf is at the door disguised as government.)

For Sonny I wish completion of his term as President and a job well-done.

For Benny Magness time to enjoy it and a place to keep it. (What else can you ask for a man that has a life-size train set, flies an airplane, and drives a Studebaker.)

For those of us who have lost friends and loved ones I pray solace. (That would be all of us.)

For Lee Stephenson I wish hair. (I hope he has so much he can loan me some.)

For Walter Felton I wish the ability to loosen up. (The boy works too hard and takes life too seriously.)

For Cliff James I wish a lighter foot. (Face it son, you have to slow down sometime.)

For Houston Nutt and the Razorback Football Team, bless their hearts, a family Christmas. (This is the first opportunity they have had to be home for Christmas in several years and it may be a long time before they can do it again.)

For Stan Heath and the Razorback Basketball Team a little madness in March. (What the heck, a lot of madness in March!)

For Clint Johnson I wish tickets to watch the madness.

For John McDonald and the Razorback Track Team somewhere to store the trophies. (They just keep coming.)

For Nicole Kidman I wish…nevermind. (Nicole, would you contact me privately about this?)

For Steve Lightle I wish you could lose some of it.

For Jeff Frost I wish you could find some of it. (Maybe this year you can use it to hit a hole in one, three times.)

For Steve Turner I wish fairways and greens.

For Gordon Blackwell…bless your heart.

For myself I want that gyroscope I had fifty some-odd years ago. (Are you listening, Santa? If you can’t find one I can help!)

For all I wish the blessings of the season and everything good. I also wish to meet you back here again, next year.

Merry Christmas. (Really. Bless your Heart.)