This time of year gets me thinking about Christmases of the past. Like the year we all got sticks and mine lasted clear until March, when we had to burn it during the sudden cold snap on St. Patrick's Day just to stay warm. Or the year I got my first, ah, well, maybe that's not appropriate right now...oh, hell, my first piece of maple-glazed ham, and boy was it good! Then there was the Christmas right after Great-Aunt Masie died; and I mean RIGHT after -- we shellacked her, stood her up, and hung the ornaments on her. Saved us a good five bucks, easy, for a Christmas tree. But what I remember best is the family gathered around the old upright piano with my mother playing, me on my trumpet, my brother Tony on his trombone, brother Ted playing saxophone, and my sister on flute, as we all raised out voices in our family's favorite Christmas song:


CHORUS:
Grandma got run over by a reindeer
Walking home from our house Christmas eve.
You can say there's no such thing as Santa,
But as for me and Grandpa, we believe.

She'd been drinkin' too much egg nog,
And we'd begged her not to go.
But she'd left her medication,
So she stumbled out the door into the snow.
When they found her Christmas mornin',
At the scene of the attack.
There were hoof prints on her forehead,
And incriminatin' Claus marks on her back.

CHORUS

Now were all so proud of Grandpa,
He's been takin' this so well.
See him in there watchin' football,
Drinkin' beer and playin' cards with cousin Belle.
It's not Christmas without Grandma.
All the family's dressed in black.
And we just can't help but wonder:
Should we open up her gifts or send them back?

CHORUS

Now the goose is on the table
And the pudding made of fig.
And a blue and silver candle,
That would just have matched the hair in Grandma's wig.
I've warned all my friends and neighbours.
"Better watch out for yourselves."
They should never give a license,
To a man who drives a sleigh and plays with elves.

CHORUS