Septuagenarian Blues

Dreamed last night I was twenty-five.

Yeah, dreamed I was only twenty-five.

Woke up to find I'm seventy-eight,

But glad I still can jive.

They say seven's a lucky number.

I hear seven is a lucky number.

Now I got a lotta sevens,

So why's it feel like such a bummer?

Got those septuagenarian blues.

Oh mama, septuagenarian blues.

But I still got the jam

To wear my dancin' shoes.

Gonna boogie all day, boogie all night.

Boogie thru the day, boogie thru the night.

I may be an ol' geezer,

But my baby treats me right.

My baby said "You a septuagenarian.

Uh-huh, you a septuagenarian.

But Daddy, I am gonna love you

'Til you're a centenarian."

PD Writer Surfaces in California

POINTLESS DIGRESSIONS WRITER FOUND IN PISMO BEACH, CA

The senior writer for the syndicated blog "Pointless Digressions" has been located in the parking lot of a convenience store in Pismo Beach, California.

An executive of the internationally famous online feature said the writer had not been seen since leaving the Pointless Digressions holiday party.  "He said he was in search of inspiration," the executive said.  "He left the room wearing his party hat and carrying the punch bowl.  That was the last we saw of him."

Police in Pismo Beach said the PD writer "was apprehended telling shaggy dog stories and doing a very bad impersonation of Dean Martin."

The Pointless Digressions team said their leader is ready to return to work, after an intense period of rehabilitation watching old Three Stooges shorts.  His first assignment will be a recap of the year's major stories.

"I'm up for it," he said.  "Just remind me what year it was--1975 or '76?"

Christmas (or Tennis) with Bob and Mel

Okay, we've told this story before, but it bears repeating, and besides, we still have to bake the gingerbread reindeer.

You all know "The Christmas Song", written by Bob Wells (words) and Mel Torme (music).  In fact, you may have recorded it.  Almost everyone else has.  Among those who have delivered their versions of the song:  Bob Dylan, Stevie Wonder, Aaron Neville, Doris Day, Chicago, Celtic Woman, Hootie & the Blowfish, Smokey Robinson & The Miracles, Twisted Sister, Herb Alpert, and Big Bird and the Swedish Chef.

The story, of course, is that Bob and Mel wrote "The Christmas Song" in the middle of a blisteringly hot Los Angeles summer.  Mel had gone to Bob's digs for a game of tennis, and while Bob was changing into his whites, Mel spotted some notes scribbled on a pad on the piano: "Chestnuts roasting..Jack Frost nipping..Yuletide carols..Folks dressed up like Eskimos."  (You could say "Eskimos" then; try to rhyme something with "Inuit.")

When Bob came down, Mel said, "I think we've got a song here." Within forty minutes they had it written, and Mel said, "This is right for Nat.  Let's take it to him."  Which they did.  And although Mel and Bob kept on doing what they did for decades (it was twenty-five years before Mel recorded "The Christmas Song" himself) they could have retired to Monaco or Tahiti on the royalties.

Imagine what would have happened, or not happened, if, when Mel said "I think we've got a song here" Bob had said, "Naw, forget it, Mel. Let's go play tennis."

Yuletide Reading/Listening/Viewing

Here we are in what, for some, may be a quiet, tranquil prelude to Christmas.  (This does not include those who will be shopping for gifts at 9:00 p.m. Christmas Eve at the corner Chevron station.)

But if you have time, now or later, may we suggest some items for reading, listening and viewing.

Reading:  It is almost obligatory to re-read "A Christmas Carol" each year; "Cricket on the Hearth" optional.  But a less familiar choice would be John Cheever's short story "Christmas Is a Sad Season for the Poor" which, despite its title, is a comedy.

Listening:  The best jazz performances of Christmas music are--to these ears--"England's Carol" by the Modern Jazz Quartet, a wild "Sleigh Ride" by Art Pepper and Richie Cole, Dexter Gordon's "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" and, surprisingly,"Away in a Manger", given a Brahmsian mode by George Shearing and Don Thompson.

Viewing:  Alastair Sims's Scrooge in "A Christmas Carol" cannot be matched, but for a different take on the tale, try Bill Murray's "Scrooged", with John Forsythe in the Marley role, Carol Kane as a punch-throwing Ghost, and Miles Davis as a street busker.  For a truly noir Yuletide yarn, there is "Christmas Holiday", based on a Somerset Maugham novel, with Gene Kelly as a non-dancing ne'er-do-well and Deanna Durbin--yes!--singing torch songs. 

Okay, two more days to attempt to be nice, erasing all the year's naughtiness.  Because soon we'll be saying, with Louis Armstrong, "Zat You, Santy Claus?"

Christmas Gifts

Dear (insert name of recipient):

Wishing to eschew the crassness of Christmas commercialism, the frantic gift buying, the catastrophic debt accumulation, the crowds, the mall music, the pushing, the shoving (sorry, grandma on the escalator), we have decided this year to approach gift-giving with a nobler purpose in mind--not in self aggrandizement, but as a helping hand to others. 

And that is why, instead of the usual gift you receive, we have taken this approach:  we have given your name, address, and credit card numbers to several suspect charities, many of which have found fundraising difficult since having their tax receipt classification removed.

We have also given your telephone number to Telemarketers International, an association that represents several hundred telemarketing companies.  We know you'll be looking forward eagerly to their calls! 

And so, Merry Christmas, friends!  And please don't thank us. Christmas is all about giving. 

Happy holidays!  (Your name here)    

Dropping in on the Claus Family

"So where were you, all afternoon?"

"You know my job, I have to be at the shopping mall, talking to children."

"So you say.  Where'd you get the bourbon breath?"

"A fellow dropped by who remembered me from his childhood.  He was carrying a flask to ward off the cold, and it would have been churlish to refuse a sip."

"The way it would have been churlish not to clutch that bimbo under the mistletoe for fifteen minutes?"

"Merely comforting her.  She didn't find what she was looking for in her stocking."

"I saw you helping her look."

"Ah, but enough of this badinage, my dear.  It's a time of jollity and good cheer.  Tell me, how have the elves progressed at their toy-making?"  

"Toy-making--ha!  The fuzz finally busted their grow-op!  Took 'em all away, in their little pointy caps."

"(Sigh) Well, how about the reindeer?  Have they been fed and shod?"

"Yes, Jelly-Belly, but you'd better stop giving Rudolph those fermented oats.  His nose is turning red."

Feast of St. Lucy

Today is the feast of St. Lucy, patron saint of writers.  On our behalf she deals with missed deadlines, rejection slips, writer's block, and difficult editors (whose patron is St. John Bosco). 

Ave, St, Lucy!  Celebrate by taking a writer to lunch.  (Will write for food.  And maybe a drink.) 

Superstar Politicians--All Singing, All Dancing!

Prime Minister Stephen Harper delighted his followers at a Conservative Christmas party by donning what appeared to be a modified Nehru leisure suit ($27.95, Value Village) and performing several songs familiar to people of his generation.  Partygoers, stimulated by decaf coffee and de-alcoholized fruit smoothies, leapt to their feet and gyrated wildly.

Opposition parties immediately began planning how to counter this performance.  It has been suggested that NDP leader Jack Layton, at his party's Christmas gathering, will perform Feats of Strength, while the Liberals' Michael Ignatieff is said to be practicing Interpretive Dance.   

Meanwhile, the latest Ipsos-Reid poll shows that the choice of a majority of Canadians for Prime Minister is Justin Bieber.  

Rich Blues

The news that tax breaks introduced by President George W. Bush would be extended brought sighs of relief from the group described by Andy Borowitz as "the wealthiest .0000001% of Americans."  

Many had feared the tax cuts would be eliminated, causing great anxiety among the nation's zillionaires.  This angst among the wealthy reminded one of our correspondents of the Martin Mull song "Rich Blues," which includes these heartfelt lyrics:   

"I got up this morning and my new Mercedes was gone.

 Yes, I got up this morning and my new Mercedes was gone.

 Well, I got so damn depressed I threw my drink across the lawn."

They don't write songs like that any more.

Feast of Sant Nikolaas

December 6--Feast of Sant Nikolaas, whose name long ago morphed into "Santa Claus."

Sant Nikolaas is the patron saint of children, but also of sailors, travelers, bakers, brewers and pawnbrokers.

Today we visit the bakers and brewers.  

Tomorrow, the pawnbrokers.

Ye olde Christmas Musick Shoppe

Some of us were once fortunate to work at a radio station that played no Christmas music before December 15, and if anyone had played "Jingle Bell Rock" at any time, he would have been banished to our sister station in Minsk and all records of his existence expunged.

You will know, of course, that this restraint no longer obtains, and no sooner have the tender strains of "Monster Mash" returned to their ethereal realm than we are bombarded with "Silver Bells," "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas," "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus," and other pop tunes more saccharine than a truckload of sugar plums. 

Our idea of a seasonal tune is "Jauchzet, frolocket!", the opening chorus from the Christmas Oratorio by J.S. Bach (whose twenty or so kinder would have preferred to get the royalties from "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer").

Okay, we know we're sounding Grinch-like here, but it's because of a deep regard for the traditional songs of Christmas.  

Hark!  Here comes one now!  It's "Yogi Yorgenson," with "I Yust Go Nuts at Christmas." Let's sing along! 

Political Notes from Disneyland BC

The current political scene has become, for reporters and columnists, the equivalent of last summer's salmon run for fishermen.  Both of British Columbia's leading political parties continue to provide a smorgasbord of material, day after day.

On one side, we have several wannabe premiers vying for leadership of the Liberal party, and working hard to distance themselves from Gordon Campbell.  "Gordon who?" they say.  And HST?  "Gosh, I don't think I was there that day" or "I thought HST was a signal for Thanksgiving: Have Some Turkey."

In the other camp, we find the NDP imploding.  However, current leader Carole James remains unfazed.  "I look on the bright side," she said.  "Way fewer Christmas cards to send this year."

Meanwhile, Randy and Evy Quaid remind us that they are still available to lead either party or both, with a pledge to drive out the Starwhackers.

Nero Wolfe's creator arrives on the scene

December 1: This date in 1886, Rex Stout, creator of Nero Wolfe, Archie Goodwin, and all the other residents of the famous brownstone on New York's West 35th Street, is born in Noblesville, Indiana, arriving on the scene of many fictional crimes.  

Wolfe and company appeared in a staggering number of novels and short stories, from "Fer-de-Lance" in 1934 to "A Family Affair" in 1975.

Send out for orchids and beer.