New Uses for Old (Seasonal) Songs

There is an interesting article in today’s Philadelphia Inquirer regarding the pitfalls and dangers of a seasonal favorite heard everywhere at this time of year, Baby, It’s Cold Outside.  The article goes to great lengths to examine its patriarchal roots in 20th century technique of seduction of the opposite (allegedly weaker) sex.   A few radio stations in the area have deleted the song from their playlists in this new season of outing serial harassers among the rich and famous.

Lesson to young people:  strive to be successful in doing good for mankind, earn respect among your peers, but don’t strive to be famous.  The mantle of notoriety has proven to attract the most unwanted and unsolicited attention to the most private thoughts and actions of the rich and famous.

This analysis of what had been until now a rather playful take on gender roles leads me to think about some other seasonal songs which could be seen in another light.   Let’s start with:

RUDOLPH THE RED NOSED REINDEER

Originally penned as a department store ad campaign, this song has sprang from song sheet to a life of its own legacy thanks to its transfer to an animated television special. 

Okay, so the plucky little reindeer saved one Christmas from being devoid and bereft of material gifts, but what about the other years? Oh and of course what happened to these flying antler racks when they’re not working their one night of the year?

Do they truly live in comfort as part of a nuclear reindeer family as Rankin-Bass would have us believe?  Or do they wander the tundra foraging for food and other bare necessities subject to the whims of mother nature?  There is a big difference between the shelter of a nice warm, middle-class suburbia existence, and the harsh cold, windy realities of the elements.   Calling PETA!

And what about Rudolph himself?  Isn’t his glowing proboscis a symptom of an auto-immune condition like rosacea or psoriasis?   What kind of veterinary plan would overlook poor Rudolph’s malady.  Oh, wait, any cure for Rudolph’s nose would likely be considered cosmetic.  Sorry, Rudolph, not covered!

GRANDMA GOT RUN OVER BY A REINDEER

Speaking of four-hooved beasts of burden for Santa Claus, here is an opposing point of view of reindeer as monsters preying on the elderly and infirm.  This is indeed the dark side of reindeerdom, a far cry from the benevolence found in Rudolph’s world.  Now our heroes of Christmas Eve are snorting, trampling beasts acting careless in the world of humans.  Or are our fine furry friends mere tools of human destruction at the hands of a jolly old man hopped up on about a million tons of chocolate chip cookies and a million gallons of milk left behind by the well-meaning children of the world? 

Let’s ponder for a second how uncomfortable Santa’ bladder must feel at the end of his Christmas Eve rounds!  Eww!  Okay, that’s long enough.

This song should be re-engineered as a public service announcement warning all to watch over your elderly and sick for the holidays.  Don’t let them wander off!  The reindeer, dark knights of death, are always lurking in the shadows. Lurking, watching and waiting for some hapless old person to stumble into their sight…

SANTA BABY

Oh right, the national anthem of gold diggers everywhere!  The antithesis of the traditional female stereotype as the caring, nurturing gender of the human race. They are the calculating, conniving representatives of the female sex that misogynists love to use as examples of their ire.  These are the women the sexual harassers deserve to have in their lives.  

What’s that, Mr. Weinstein?  You want to show me your what?  Okay, but it’ll cost you!

The first and definite version of this song was recorded by Eartha Kitt sometime in the 50s.  Her deep, gravelly voice was perfect (or should I say purrfect) for this song.  I’ve wondered if she ever did a duet with anyone on Baby, It’s Cold Outside.  At the risk of making myself look easy, I would admit that I would gladly accept a cup of spiked hot cocoa from Ms. Kitt if I was stranded with her while a blizzard raged outside.

Okay, I’ll admit it.  I’m too easy.

(Thank you for reading.  Stay sober, Santa!)