"Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer": A Deconstruction

It's a Christmas classic. But upon listening to "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer" with adult ears, I have some questions.

1. "She'd been drinking too much eggnog and we begged her not to go. But she forgot her medication, and she staggered out the door into the snow."

Oh, you begged her not to go? You bunch of noble knights. You live close enough to Grandma that she, an old woman, can walk it - and nobody walks her home? Who ARE you people? Not to mention the fact that there is a Grandpa is mentioned in the song. Why was he staying and letting his elderly wife walk home in the snow?

2. "Should we open up her gifts or send them back?"

There are two ways to interpret this, and I must say that I don't care for either of them. One, you could be debating between sending her gifts back to the people who sent them and opening them up anyway. What use do you people have for gifts Grandma would receive? Is one of you short a Yankee Candle or a child's handmade shawl? Second, you could be debating between opening up the gifts or sending them back to the store for the refund. Grandma's death + gifts = profit??

3. "Now the goose is on the table, and the pudding made of figs."

You callous bastards are going through with Christmas dinner? Grandma's still warm, and you're celebrating?? I must say, as horrific as that sounds, it's entirely in keeping with the behavior on display in the rest of this song. Even her husband is drinking beer and playing cards! It sounds like this woman may have stepped in front of the sleigh, desperately seeking sweet relief from another Christmas with this bunch of jerks.

I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas with your families, and my wish for you is that your families are caring enough that you will receive an elegy more loving than Grandma did.

The Way We Were

It's that time again. I find myself with a white page in front of me and lots of inchoate thoughts about what I want to write but not a lot of ideas about how to actually write them. I guess that's what makes some people writers and some people pipefitters, right?

I'm here again, one year removed from the last time, thanks to Scope at Scope-Tech. Last year he had the idea for bloggers who'd given up their blogs to come together on one day, Cyber Monday, and post something. It was wonderful, and I'm so glad he's doing it again. I got to read about some of my friends after so long, and it brought back many great memories about the daily interaction we used to have. There were some who were closer than others in that big group, but we really were friends.

And I guess that's what I want to write about. If you were my friend then, you're still my friend. We may not talk at all, we may only wish each other Happy Birthday on Facebook, we may only chat a bit while playing Words With Friends¹. No matter. Last night when I was thinking about what to write, I read a lot of my blog. I read a lot of the comments. I laughed out loud a lot. I was moved a lot. Now, we have fun with this Cyber Monday thing, but we all know that it will never be like it was. But that's okay. The blog and the people that read it and the things we told each other will always be a part of me. I never really told anyone that during the Golden Age of Blogs. There were snarky comments, jokes upon jokes, and a bit² of flirting. It was a lot of fun, but I think I treated it sometimes like a TV show that I talked back to instead of like a group of people. I guess it's hard in the moment to tell people what they mean to you, because it's hard to have that perspective. I'm a different person now. I'm in a wonderful relationship, and it's taught me a lot about how to treat other people.

So let me tell you now. In the spirit of the holiday, I'm thankful for the time we all shared. It meant a great deal to me. I think of you often, and when I do, I smile.

Francis


1. If you play, we should totally play
2. A lot