Fa la la la la, la la la la
- Christmas carol chorus
I have a theory. I have many of them, actually, but the one I'm considering today is why Christmas music is so popular with children.
Some reasons are obvious - what child wouldn't want to hear about little drummer boys, dancing snowmen and red-nosed reindeer?
But I think the true joy with this sort of music is in the lyrics.
The words often don't make sense. So much of it is silly. And my experience is that kids love to act silly.
Take a moment to think like a child (not a challenge for some of you) and tell me what "We three kings of Orient are ..." means.
Or "don we now our gay apparel."
Or what about "Hark, the herald angels sing ..."
I was 12 before I figured out this wasn't a song about an angel named Harold, which made more sense to me.
The holidays are also full of songs about "round yon virgins," "maids-a-milking," and more partridges than you can shake a pear-tree at.
They remind us of when Christmas was fun and not a stress-filled adult marathon.
Fa la la la la, indeed.
- Why is it that no matter what color bubble bath you use the bubbles are always white?
- Why do people keep running over a string a dozen times with their vacuum cleaner, then reach down, pick it up, examine it, then put it down to give the vacuum one more chance?
- Why is it that no plastic bag will open from the end you first try?
- Why is it that whenever you attempt to catch something that's falling off the table you always manage to knock something else over?
- How come you never hear father-in-law jokes?
TODAY'S JOKE: OK, how about a preacher joke? It seems a pastor went to his church office on Monday morning and discovered a dead mule in the church yard.
He called the police. Since there did not appear to be any foul play, the police referred the preacher to the health department.
They said since there was no health threat that he should call the sanitation department. The manager said he could not pick up the mule without authorization from the mayor. The preacher was not too eager to call the mayor, who had a bad temper and was generally hard to deal with, but called him anyway.
The mayor did not disappoint. He immediately began to rant and rave at the pastor and finally said, "Why did you call me anyway? Isn't it your job to bury the dead?"
The preacher paused for a brief prayer and asked the Lord to direct his response.
He was led to say, "Yes, mayor, but I always like to notify the next of kin first."