Pastor Don Wolan

Pastor Donald Wolan
Downriver Christian Community Church
Melvindale, Michigan

Friday, December 21, 2012

Have a Mad, Mad, Mad Chrtistmas!


One of my favorite magazines to  read when I was growing up was MAD magazine. With its parodies of every popular movie and its comic insight into the everyday situations of life, MAD magazine made growing up a passage of life for most pubescent male teens and provided a future adult generation with memories of clean humor that wasn't predicated on the amount of cuss words one could recite or perverse sexual acts one could impersonate.

One of the funniest parts of MAD magazine was the Christmas song parodies each year. The magazine would take a popular Christmas song, rewrite the words, and make it contemporary with how we celebrate or remember the Christmas season. Believe it or not, I can still remember the words to the different songs the magazine redid and the "truth" each song illustrated. Read or sing the following songs for an insightful look at the Christmas season from a MAD magazine perspective.

  (Sung to the tune of "Deck the Halls")

Wrap your gifts with fingers agile, Fa la la...
Seal it up and mark it "fragile", Fa la la...
There's no reason to feel nervous, Fa la la, la la la...
You can trust the postal service, Fa la la...

Hear the postal worker singing, Fa la la...
As your parcel he is flinging, Fa la la...
See it crumple in the bin there, Fa la la, la la la...
Aren't you sorry you walked in there, Fa la la...

See your parcel speed to Philly, Fa la la...
Through the air to cousin Billy, Fa la la...
It will end up in Savanah, Fa la la, la la la...
Via Nome and Butte, Montana, Fa la la...

(Sung to the tune of "We Three Kings")

We three clods from Omaha are
Spending Christmas Eve in a car
Driving, drinking,
Glasses clinking,
Who needs a lousy bar?

Drink to Charlie. Drink to Paul
Drink to friends we can't recall
Swerving, speeding
Signs unheeding
Drink to anything at all

We three clods are feeling no pain
Drunk as skunks with booze on the brain
Senses losing
'Til we're cruising
Into a wrong way lane

Drink to Melvin. Drink to Fred
Drink to those two trucks ahead
Headlights flashing
Screeching, crashing
Drink till they pronounce us dead.

(Sung to the tune of "O Little Town of Bethlehem")

Oh, little Bank Americard
You bring me Christmas Cheer
Without your clout
I have no doubt
No gifts I'd give this year.
Your credit line allows me
To run up bills quite large
And when I'm through
Exhausting you
I'll use my Master Charge.

(Same tune, sung in late February)

Oh, little Bank Americard
You bring me discontent
I calculate
Your int'rest rate
Is over (twelve) percent.
Each month, your cry for payments
My letter-box bombards;
I'm one more sap
Caught in your trap
Next year I'll just send cards.

 (Sung to the tune of "Away in a Manger")
Out there on the sidewalk a Santa Claus stands,
Beside a fake chimney, a bell in his hands;
A second one's smoking a smelly cigar;
A third one is picking his teeth in a bar;

A fourth Santa's trying to pick up a blonde;
A fifth one is drunk in the gutter beyond;
A sixth one is part of a window display;
The seventh and eighth ones appear to be gay;

They're fat and they're skinny, They're short and they're tall;
And none of them look like the real one at all;
With so many Santas it's tough to keep score --
Small wonder that kids don't believe any-more.

(Sung to the tune of "Winter Wonderland")

Doorbells ring, it's the season
And you know what's the reason
Someone's out there, after their share
Sticking out their greedy little hand
First in line is the doorman
He'll complain he's a poorman
The janitor's next on some weak pretext
Sticking out his greedy little hand

Then will come the superintendents visit.
He will ring your doorbell loud and long.
You will open up and ask who is it.
He just smiles and sings a Christmas song.
Later'll give cash up.
To the man..who picks the trash up.
How nice they're all here.
For one day a year.
Stick'n out their greedy little hand.

 (Sung to the tune of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town")

You better watch out
You better not try,
Trav'ling about
I'm telling you why
Sodden clods are coming to town.

They're wrecking the bars
They're starting street fights.
They're having one of
Their naughtiest nights,
Sodden clods are coming to town.

Blithe New Years's drivers, pickled
In alcoholic brine
Will gaily bounce off walls and trees
To the strains of "Auld Lang Syne",
You better stay home

And drink your own rye.
You're crazy to roam
It's obvious why,
Sodden clods are coming to town.

Not to be outdone by MAD magazine, I wrote my own "parody Christmas tune" I hope you enjoy it!
(Sung to the tune of "O Christmas Tree")

O Callahan
O Callahan
My computer is broke, so fix it!
 O Callahan
O Callahan
My computer is broke, so fix it!

I'm trying to work on important things
  like weekly blogs or songs we sing!
O Callahan
O Callahan
My computer is broke, so fix it!

It always breaks when I'm busy
your repairman skills are shoddy
O Callahan
O Callahan
My computer is broke, so fix it!

The program is froze, I can't get out
When this stuff happens, I always shout!
O Callahan
O Callahan
My computer is broke, so fix it!

It's fun to meander down memory lane during this very special time of the year, remembering a time that seemed much simpler and innocent, or to invent new memories that will bring enjoyment in future years to those we care about. We all have these great memories of years gone by and the imprints they have left on our hearts and minds. The Bible has recorded for all of us the real story of this special season and the reason we celebrate it while numerous Christmas songs emphasize the importance of the birth of Christ.  May we remember this joyous occasion and proclaim its vital message to a world lost in darkness and the hope it inspires and spreads because it really is a mad, mad world we live in!
Joy to the World , the Lord is come!
Let earth receive her King;
Let every heart prepare Him room,
And Heaven and nature sing,
And Heaven and nature sing,
And Heaven, and Heaven, and nature sing.
Joy to the World, the Savior reigns!
Let men their songs employ;
While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains
Repeat the sounding joy,
Repeat the sounding joy,
Repeat, repeat, the sounding joy.

No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found,
Far as the curse is found,
Far as, far as, the curse is found.

He rules the world with truth and grace,
And makes the nations prove
The glories of His righteousness,
And wonders of His love,
And wonders of His love,
And wonders, wonders, of His love.

 Stay Holy, My Friends!

Pastor Don

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