'Twas the night...
December 24, 1998
...And That's
My OpinionŠ
Christmas (Holiday) Eve
One holiday has passed
since my last column, Thanksgiving, and another is about to come. Time passes
when you're having fun!
I want to thank all those
who responded pro and con to my "What If..." column. It received more
reaction than any previous one. That's good; it is my self-appointed role (see
July 1,1998 column). There's another what if....what if Clement Clark Moore had
written A Visit From St. Nicholas in politically correct 1998? Lets
conjecture...
The Night Before
Christmas (corrected politically)
(A Visit From St. Nicholas)
By: Clement Clarke Moore
(With apologies from Sandy
Goldman)
'Twas the night before
Christmas (p.c. holiday), when all through the house (condo)
Not a creature (he/she/it)
was stirring, not even a mouse (mus musculus);
The stockings were hung by
the chimney with care,
In hopes that ST. NICHOLAS
(p.c. our visitor) soon would be there;
The children were nestled
all snug in their beds,
While visions of
sugar-plums (sugar free diet popsicles) danced in their heads;
And mamma (my POSSLQ) in
her 'kerchief (Victoria's Secret) and I in the nude, wearing my cap,
Had just settled down for a
long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn
(prairie grasses and wild flowers) there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to
see what was the matter.
Away to the window (brand
new triple tracks) I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and
threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast
(reflection) (editors Note: enough of anatomical parts) of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day
to objects below,
When, what to my wondering
eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and
eight tiny (vertically challenged) reindeer,
With a little old (senior
citizen or age challenged) driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must
be St. Nick. (p.c. our friend whose name is Nick)
More rapid than (the
endangered) eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and
shouted, and called them by name;
(Not a gender reference nor
an ethnic surname)
"Now, DASHER!
now,DANCER! now, PRANCER and !
On, COMET! on CUPID! on
DONDER and BLITZEN
To the top of the porch!
(wrought iron fence)To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away!
dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before
the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an
obstacle, mount to the sky,So up to the housetop (TV antenna) the coursers they
flew,With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas(our visitor) too.
And then, in a twinkling, I
heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of
each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and
was turning around,
Down the chimney St.
Nicholas (our visitor) came with a bound.
He was dressed all in (p.c.
polyester imitation) fur from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all
tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of (educationally
correct) toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a
peddler (p.c. person of limited means hoping to gain a foothold in America's
dreams) just opening his pack.
His eyes--how they
twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses,
his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was
drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin
was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe
(lollipop) he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke (aroma) it
encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a
little round belly
That shook, when he laughed
like a bowlful of (Smuckers) jelly.
He was chubby and plump
(was weight challenged), a right jolly old (senior) elf,
And I laughed when I saw
him, in spite of myself;
(Although I alerted
security) a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had
nothing to dread;He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,And filled
all the stockings; (with genderless toys, not specific for girls ; not specific
for boys.
His bag you see, was filled
at the U. of C. to be correct psychologically, ecologically and generationally)
then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside
of his nose
And giving a nod, up the
chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to
his team gave a whistle,And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.But I
heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO
ALL (HAVE A GOOD DAY!!), AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT"
...And that's my opinion.
And I'm Sandy Goldman
Send
me your e-mail address or those of others who would be interested and I'll add
them to my rapidly growing distribution list.
To Email Me: smgoldman@ameritech.net