Wait For It!

Whatever happened to Thanksgiving? The Headless Indian Brave was driving me about the posher neighborhoods of Los Angeles last night (And ironically, a headless chauffeur really turns heads!) in the Morehead Mobile to look at the Christmas lights, which, it turned out, weren’t just all in my head any more than they were in his. I remember a time when one would never put up a Christmas decoration before December 1st at the earliest! Now no one decorates for Thanksgiving anymore at all, just hoist up those Christmas trees in mid-November, so they can be a really dry fire hazard by the time Santa arrives. Skip the turkeys; just go direct from pumpkins to Nativity scenes.


Which reminds me, I just read today that that overdressed queen The Nazi Pope has announced he will not attend the Vatican screening of the new movie The Nativity Story because the actress who plays the Virgin Mary (Talk about a Thankless role! I never played virgins. They’re too unsympathetic, and I have nothing in common with them.) is pregnant out of wedlock. Is it just me, or is that just a tad hypocritical, even for a Pope who was a member of Hitler’s Army? Excuse me, but what else was the Virgin Mary but a woman pregnant by someone other than her lawfully wedded husband? I guess there’s no room at the Vatican Inn. (I also see that The Nativity Story is being touted as "A True Story." Hello? United 93 was a True Story. The Nativity Story is a myth. The only virgin I know of that ever actually had a baby was Loretta Young.)


Where was I? Oh yes. In this chair. As I was saying before I so rudely interrupted myself, nobody decorates for Thanksgiving anymore. They just haul out the Christmas decorations the moment the trick-or-treaters have left. I always decorate with turkeys in November, my own personal turkeys, from my fabulous career. Right now, about the Morehead Heights dining hall, you’ll find posters from my movies Tramp Steamer, Fu Manchu’s Blessed Event, Tarzan’s Secret Shame, 7 Brides for 7 Dwarfs (Disney’s ill-fated Snow White sequel), Scofflaw, and Bride of the Blob. Turkeys all.


While I’m not given to song writing myself, Little Dougie McEwan is "Musical," (At least that's what they called it when I was young.) and was kind enough to write these lyrics, which I have been performing in clubs every December for years now. For those of you who can’t catch me doing it live (Or as close to live as I can get these days), here it is. I think you can work out the melody yourself.
Cheers Darlings!


Too Much Christmas
It’s beginning to look too much like Christmas,
Everywhere you go.
Thanksgiving was yesterday,
And now the streets look so gay,
Your eyes will blur, and you’ll get vertigo.


It’s beginning to look too much like Christmas,
Gets worse when it’s dark.
I really don’t like to grouse,
But, my God, my neighbor’s house,
Looks like Disney’s park.


Horrible tinsel, and way too much chintz’ll
Make everyone wish they were dead.
By far the worst folly are trees looking jolly,
When all of their leaves have been shed.
And I will grant another Santa
Fills me up with dread!


It’s beginning to look too much like Christmas,
Please gouge out my eyes!
You’ll soon see a Yule log,
Blazing at the synagogue.
An elf robot! My brain lobotomize!


It’s beginning to look too much like Christmas,
Soon my brain will split.
I hate to sound so gruff,
But I’ve already had enough,
Of This Yule Bullshit!