My favorite Christmas song is the brief ditty about 'the' goose getting fat, presumably via a rigorous program of force feeding: festive foie gras, as I have called it. The poor goose's waistline increases as our Lord's nativity approaches. Soon it will be roasting upon a spit while we retrieve gleaming, bow-tied boxes from beneath the over-baubled boughs of our star-topped tree. Farewell obese bird and welcome Yule.
Later, the song encourages listeners to place a penny in the old man's hat, despite the fact that almost all modern panhandler's prefer to shake a Starbucks cup in your face rather than an upturned fedora when collecting alms. If you don't have a penny, the song continues (and who does carry cash around with them these days?), then you can consider yourself blessed by God. I suppose it's some sort of special seasonal beatitude: blessed are the none penny havers. Whatever, there is plenty for Christmas musicologists to dig their teeth into here, besides that mouthful of festive foie gras. It certainly beats Oh Come All Ye Faithful, Once In Royal David's City and all those dreary carols, that's for sure.
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