Is Thy Sweet Heart Now Grown So Cold, That Loving Breast of Thine? aka The Osmonds Are Back!

I’m frozen in starting this “Dear John” letter. Wait, I’ve got it! “Dear John.” Nah, taken. What I really want to say is, “How can I miss you if you won’t go away?” But that’s plagiarism too. Hm, something marvelous just popped into my head: “Is thy sweet heart now grown so cold, that loving breast of thine?” [1]It’s spicy. It’s random. Perverse and original. A quick google search, though, and that one’s been used for 300 years. You didn’t know that’s part of Auld Lang Syne,[2] did ya? Me neither. Well, perhaps I should depart with a loving, poetic gesture of sorts. Here goes.

Dear 2009,
You shocked and you challenged,
Brought good and bad luck.
You inspired and transpired,
But you did mostly suck.

What a way to begin with Barak’s swearing in!
He’s Black and he’s fine.
He’s got depth and can think.
Good riddance, George Dub-yuh,
And P.S. You stink!

The economy tanked along with faith, hope, and fight.
We lost jobs, homes, and health care.
What to do but hang tight?

Petty distractions have kept us afloat.
To follow are likely the most petty of note:

Octomom inherits great wealth and fame
For her busy uterus and lack of a brain.

Kayne West took Taylor Swift’s trophy away.
But he said “Sorry,” and his mom died, so it’s truly okay.

Jon and Kate plus 8 became Jon minus 9.
A bit late to for this break, party pops. You are slime.

In true Tiger style, Woods scores lower than low.
The boy had us scammed as a wholesome hero.
The best of all golfers, two tots, and model wife –
The Woods had no less than a fantasy life.
But his fantasies surpassed 1 and even 14.
Stay in the woods, Tiger. You’re best left unseen.

Miss California shunned gay marriage, lost the Miss USA.
Brittany Spears claims all should marry. (She knows of what she does say.)
Oprah declares her show will soon close.
Jason dumped Molly for Missy, then Missy for Molly.
Follow that final rose!

The Osmonds came back to dance for the prize.
So skilled and so cute. What a delightful surprise.
(‘Scuse me while I puke.)

A handful of the greats who died in 09:
Michael Jackson, whose talent pervades space and time.
Patrick Swayze, whose grace and spirit live on.
Natasha Richardson, a beautiful actress and mom.
Dazzling Brittany Murphy, career interrupted too fast.
For these and all other good souls who have passed,
With special reverence for those who were taken by war,
May their memories be blessings that inspire ever more.

Alas 09, you dashed this gal with fright.
Facing job loss and divorce, I could not see the light.
But I got a new gig, even better than last.
I also dropped the “F” word; my maiden name’s back.
One thing that’s a constant are the damn lawyer fees.
They keep coming back,
Not unlike Donny and Marie. (‘Scuse me while I puke. Again.)

Looking back on the year, I’m quite blessed to say
I ravaged great chocolate. The Lord doth have Her ways.

On a final note, let us ask once again. Shall we?
Is thy sweet heart now grown so cold, that loving breast of thine?

Happy 2010 to my beloved readers!
Robyn Alana Engel

[1] James Watson’s version, Old Long Syne, 1711
[2] Literally “old long since.” This Scottish poem, often sung on New Year’s and during other ceremonies (e.g., funerals), is attributed to Robert Burns, 1788.

WHAT WOULD JESUS DO ON CHRISTMAS?

Over 2000 years since Jesus Christ’s birth, this Jewish girl declares that it's time to this big shindig of a birthday celebration right. Let's face it, Jesus was Jewish! Now, you know I’m not one to mix words. And I know this may be hard to absorb, but the bottom line is that Jesus would not eat ham on Christmas. So, why do you go all out in serving it - honey backed, mixed in with turkey, etc. etc.? You have it all wrong, people. Ham ain't kosher!


With all due respect, let me gently suggest that Christ might instead prefer Mary’s home cooked brisket.[1] There would be no dairy products with dinner either, since good Jews do not have milk and meat in the same meal. That also means bypassing eggnog. Jesus might rather enjoy a Manischevitz[2] spritzer (concord grape Manischevitz wine mixed with 7-up – Oy, such a treat!).

Furthermore, with deep concern for the environment, Christ would surely be appalled at the killing of countless pine trees, and the grotesque waste of electricity, both of which typify this season. He would instead relish in a birthday party more akin to, say, a bris[3]: a quick and painful ceremony followed by lots of food, 20-30 minutes of the hora[4], and the tireless receiving of sloppy kisses from the relatives.

When it came time for the caroling, Mary would lovingly tell Jesus to bundle up with lots of layers, because “Jesus honey, you’re going to catch pneumonia. It’s a bit nippy outside.” And in the midst of the singing, Jesus would exclaim, “Ma Zeh? [5] A turtle dove? French hens?”

Finally, exasperated and utterly perplexed, Christ would dart down the street to buddy Shmuel’s house. There, the gang would delight in raucous dreidel[6] games, delicious homemade potato latkes[7] doused in sour cream and apple sauce, and coin after coin of chocolate gelt.[8] “Aah,” Jesus would then sigh with contentment, “This is all very good.” 


But when Christ had not yet returned home hours later, Mother Mary would shout, "Oh God, I've lost our son!"


HAPPY HANUKAH AND MERRY CHRISTMAS!

[1] Brisket=Juicy, hearty, tender side of beef or veal that is best prepared as a pot roast by a loving Jewish mother.[2] Manischevitz=The maker of all products kosher, kosher for Passover, or items that could pass as such.[3] Bris=Circumcision. Details not provided herein.[4] Hora=Kicking, screaming, clapping, running in circles (i.e., the standard Jewish dance you’ve seen in the movies).[5] Ma Zeh=Hebrew for “What’s this?”[6] Dreidel=Spinning top game played on Hanukah.[7] Latkes=Potato pancakes; yummy good Hanukah food, best enjoyed with a sour cream-apple sauce combo.[8] Gelt=Money, coins, that are made of chocolate and thus have higher value than the real thing nowadays.

Mixed-Up Holiday Medley

The following mixed-up medley combines bits of traditional holiday classics with a few tacky tunes (e.g., Adam Sandler’s Chanukah Song, Grandma Got Run Over by A Reindeer, and It’s Hard to Be a Jew on Christmas). Please sing and enjoy, drunk or sober. It will sound the same either way.

I’m dreaming of a yon virgin underneath the mistletoe. Dressed in holiday style, she’d been drinking too much eggnog, just like the ones I used to know.Then one foggy Christmas eve, Santa came to say, “I had a little dreidle. I made it out of clay.

Tell your friend Veronica, it’s time to celebrate Hanukah. Smoke your maijuanica.

We’ll all dance the hora up on the housetop. Ho, ho, ho!"

CHORUS: And so I’m offering this simple phrase: Have yourself a merry little dreidle, dreidle, dreidle on Christmas; as for me and Grandpa we believe.

Guess who eats together at the Carnegie Deli - Bowser from Sha-na-na and Arthur Fonzerelli. They never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games!

Grandma got run over by a reindeer. It had a lovely body, with leg so short and thin, and two eyes made out of coal, drinkin’ beer and playin’ cards with Cousin Belle.

CHORUS: You better not pout, I’m telling you why: You don’t have to go to Grandma’s with your alcoholic family.

I’m dreaming of a man who drives a sleigh and plays with elves and a partridge in a pear tree.

If you've made it this far:

Repeat entire song.


Sober up.