NinthDay

armbone
On the NinthDay of Christmas my family gave me some Christmas attitude.

I should have at least suspected, but I didn’t learn until nearly the end of the boyz’ visit that both were accomplished soloists. They’d given little hints of their musical abilities, but they’d been cloaked and clandestine. The last night, though, as we were finishing supper, The Muse explained that since I hadn’t pulled out the guitar during the whole visit, there would be some music that night.

I agreed, a touch guiltily, since I had not yet sat down with the boyz to put the finishing touches on that Christmas song we’d started last Christmas, though the lyric sheet with pencil corrections was still waiting for us on the piano. I stacked that in the lyric sheet pile I carried into the living room, where I sat up my chair and little table.

I started with the two latest, fine enough songs, though nothing particularly seasonal. The boyz seemed kind of rapt at the performance, which surprised me since they were both filled gill-deep with anise candy and a kid wine (black current juice served in a martini glass) supper.

I moved to the third song, one I would have to fake pretty good since it was technically unfinished, our start at a Christmas song from last year.

We’re tired of sitting back, relaxed;
we’re sick of sipping eggnog,
singing sappy songs.
The candle glow IS warming
with family gathered ‘round,
but we insist upon a little twist
from the usual Christmas sounds
.

I think it must have been Georgie who let loose with a meaty forearm fart about then, producing an unconventional if not unfamiliar Christmas sound.

Gimme a Christmas Attitude, attitude, att-i-tude
Save me from those platitudes
we usually pass around.
Gimme some Christmas Attitude, attitude, Att-i-tude
’cause we need a little bit of latitude
to make a joyful sound!

Ronnie had joined in by then. I had two near virtuoso arm-bone players backing me up for the second verse! And we were making one heck of a joyful sound.

Santa and his reindeer,
they’re terribly over-done.
Chimney hearths and stocking stuffs,
predictable as they come.
Christmas trees and fresh green wreaths
are nice enough, we say,
but we need some Christmas Attitude
to really make this day!

The Muse join in on the second chorus, making a near perfect trio of arm-bonists. (I had no idea she was so talented ... in that way) We were giggling uncontrollably.

Bethlehem and newborn kings
and wise men seem so far,
at least as old as pieces of gold
and wishing upon some star.
We demand something newer,
something with some spin,
to help revive this yuletide
and make some Christmas din!!!!

My nephew joined in on the third, fourth, and every subsequent repeat of the chorus, him playing his face, squeezing his cheeks, spittle flying. Gimme a Christmas Attitude, attitude, att-i-tude
Save me from those platitudes
we usually pass around.
Gimme some Christmas Attitude, attitude, Att-i-tude
’cause we need a little bit of latitude
to make a joyful sound!

Somewhere in there, Georgie seemed to fly off the couch and land on his head, never missing a single meaty beat. I was holding onto the neck of my guitar as if it was a life preserver, and maybe it was.

This had been the dreaded first Christmas away from mom for the boyz, an experience nobody, and I mean nobody warmly anticipated. The visit had been on unpaved road, with gullies, rocks, and ditches enough for all of us. And on this last night, to resurrect and finish in performance this leftover from last year, seemed more than the perfect ending, and a perfect beginning for a spanking new family tradition, too. It was a Godsend; Christmas Magic, with ATT-I-TUDE!

I doubt we’ll ever celebrate another Christmas without pulling out Ronnie, Georgie, and my fabulous song, accompanied with arm bone and floppy-cheek Bronx cheers.

I think we somehow managed to find enough Christmas Attitude to last us through the whole next year.

©2014 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved









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