Is it just Christ-madan-zaa-nukkah time, or is Medium becoming a better place right now?
I’m inspired right now to sing the praises of my fellow writers instead of ranting about the dim-witted content reducing our collective IQ.
Allow me to express my heartfelt thanks to all of you and ask, with all due respect, that you keep your noses to the grindstone and continue producing good stuff — you don’t want to see me in a bad mood.
So, in the spirit of Christ-madan-zaa-nukkah, I want to salute the best things I’ve found this week.
#1: A hilarious character study
First, excuse my ignorance, as I only discovered this gem today by Tommy Paley.
He created a character, Gwen De Toit, who is the love child of Lee Strasberg’s method acting and Monty Python’s Flying Circus.
The writing is subtle and nuanced, so I got rocked with after-shocks of laughter when I least expected it.
I truly look forward to Tommy’s contribution to our latest collaborative story, “Free Ticket to Nowhere.”
I invite everyone to check it out and write a chapter in this collaborative story.
#2: The nicest rant you’ll ever read
I don’t know how she does it, but my spiritual sister, Roz Warren, can point out some of the most obnoxious, odious and omnipresent intrusions into our lives and make them humorous, fun, and cathartic at the same time.
If only I knew her secret (should I stop cursing so much?).
It would raise my notoriety on this site significantly, so that I, too, could reach her level of plummeting “Help Ouch Help Ouch Help” stats.
Sis, I just wanted you to know that when a song drives me crazy, I look for alternative lyrics that I can sing in my head.
When that seriously misogynistic and tedious song by spelling bee revolutionary Neilly (“It’s gettin’ hot in herre”) hit the airwaves, my son played it all the time, driving me crazy.
But then I found Weird Al Yankovic’s parody, “Trash Day.”
Now I laugh whenever the original gets played because I remember Weird Al’s lyrics, “There’s somethin’ rotten here…”
For that reason, my Christ-madan-zaa-nukkah present to you is an X-rated parody of The Little Drummer Boy.
(There’s only one verse that I can publish online unless I start a new account as a sex writer.)
“The Little Stable Boy”
Ride, she told me, bump bumpity bump
Just set that stallion free, bump bumpity bump
The finest schlong I’ve seen, bump bumpity bump
To dip inside your Queen, bump bumpity bump
bump bumpity bump, bump bumpity bump
We’re at the quarter pole, bump bumpity bump
Fill my hole
#3: A hilarious journey from here to infinity and beyond
The problem with holiday spirit is that while we are thankful for all the blessings we receive, we feel guilty about those who are less fortunate than us.
There’s nothing I hate worse than those (oh, I forgot I was in happy spirit mode) — there’s something deeply disturbing about those Lexus Christmas commercials where somebody gives a $60,000 car to someone as a gift when less than 50% of the population earns that much in a year.
For that reason, I felt terrible laughing hysterically as I read about my friend Roy’s attempts to find a side hustle in this brilliant multi-media comedy fest.
It’s rare for a celebrity to become known by one name, like Prince, Sting, and Madonna. But Roy has done it.
Unlike him, I Googled my uncommon name and still came in second to some professor in the Midwest.
#4: A jolly poem full of Holiday cheerleading
My good buddy P.G. Barnett was the original inspiration for this article.
(Notice the foreshadowing in the title.)
I love the way he pushes himself outside his comfort zone, past the mystery stories, and into personal essays, writing advice, song parodies, and poetry.
In the following poem, he makes a lot of people feel good to know their work is read and appreciated.
Because in the end, even if someone makes a ton of money through writing, without friends, we are truly destitute.
After the poem, he apologizes to anyone who wasn’t mentioned, writing, “I was a little worried about pissing somebody off. Then I thought, “oh what the hell.”
Doesn’t that line sum up everything we need to do in 2020, as a nation and as individuals?
Just go for it, instead of worrying about the small group of people who always find a way to be offended.
So here goes:
ODE to P.G.
Since time began, to be a man
With confidence exuding
They played the game and rose to fame
In unison concluding
The one true part, deep in your heart
Is find your path to follow
In spite of pain, there is no gain
Or life is surely hollow
From gripping art to ripping farts
You know them when you see ‘em
These heroes of humanity
In real life and museums
They live by words we all have heard
Their truth rings like a bell
Press forward in uncertainty
And say “oh what the hell.”