Santa: Politically Correct

Santa is StressedDecember is a dark month. It has the shortest day of the year (thankfully behind us now), and it comes at the end of a string of months—six of them—where the days have been getting shorter and shorter. By now, many of us drive to work in the dark and drive home in the dark.  And for some there is snow and ice as well.

Sounds like a good time to throw a huge, everybody’s-involved, party! (So add all the present purchasing and party preparation to the mix with the cold and the dark.)

Hopefully at this point the work is behind you and it’s all fun for the next two days. As we wait for the party to start, here’s another politically corrected version of an old favorite. In this case, that poem about the night before…

The Night Before Christmas

(Politically Correct Santa)

‘Twas the night before Christmas and Santa’s a wreck…
How to live in a world that’s politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to “Elves”,
“Vertically Challenged” they were calling themselves.

And labor conditions at the north pole
Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.

And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.

Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur-trimmed red suit was called “Unenlightened.”
And to show you the strangeness of life’s ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose

And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she’d enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he’d ne’er had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.

Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.

Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that’s warlike or non-pacific.

No candy or sweets… they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.

For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football… someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.

Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you’ve got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.

Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;

Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere…even you.
So here is that gift, it’s price beyond worth…
“May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth.”

© Harvey Ehrlich, 1992

Notice: This poem is copyright 1992 by Harvey Ehrlich. It is free to distribute, without changes, as long as this notice remains intact. All follow-ups, requests, comments, questions, distribution rights, etc should be made to Happy Holidays!

I hope you’ve enjoyed these old Christmas chestnuts from my collection. Even more I hope you and all your loved ones have a wonderful, safe and sane Christmas (or whatever) today and tomorrow.

To paraphrase Tiny Tim: “God (whatever you conceive him, her, them or it to be, plus inclusive of a non-religious general “best wishes” for confirmed atheists) bless us every one.

To play you out with a bit of energy and fun, here’s another favorite of mine:

If that makes you want to get up and dance (and it should, and you should), you might like this version:

About Wyrd Smythe

The canonical fool on the hill watching the sunset and the rotation of the planet and thinking what he imagines are large thoughts. View all posts by Wyrd Smythe

2 responses to “Santa: Politically Correct

  • Christmas Eve « Logos con carne

    […] power (I am a bit puzzled on  how to wield it in the Name of Goodness), the point of posting a “Night Before Christmas” parody on the night before Christmas is—in fact—that you are posting it on the night before Christmas. […]

  • Wyrd Smythe

    Update: The third paragraph makes a lot more sense when you realize that I intended to post this on Christmas Eve day.

    Which I did. But the post took its last Draft date rather than the current date. (I think it’s from editing a Draft and then clicking [Publish] without ever saving it again.)

    Ah, well. As Robert Burns explained, the best laid plans ‘gang aft agley.’

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