You never know who might break into song around the spiked-eggnog punch bowl this time of year.
Richard Spencer, Jason Kessler and others in the alt-right movement:
“We’re dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones we used to know.
Without Jews and Muslims and gays and black folks, and all who came from Mexico.”
Consumers who can’t control their spending:
“Jumbo bills! Jumbo bills! Interest by the day!
Oh, what ever made us think that we could quickly pay?
Hey!
Jumbo bills! Jumbo bills! At least we have a plan:
Sign up for three more credit cards, and things will work out grand.”
U.S. Senator-elect Doug Jones:
“Roy Moore got run over by a Demo, on his way to Washington, D.C.
You can say there’s no such thing as Santa, but half of Bama voters sure believe.”
University of Tennessee football fans:
“Come,” they told me, ai’righty-ai’right.
There’s a new coach in town, ai’righty-ai’right.
We’ll put our trust in him, ai’righty-ai’right,
To bring back Volunteer might, ai’righty-ai’right, ’righty-ai’right, ’righty-ai’right.”
Middle-class Americans:
“Oy to the world! Their tax bill passed!
Let pol-i-ticians dance and sing!
Let CEOs and billionaires, join in the celebration!
So what if their plan tanks? So what if their plan tanks?
They’ll aaa-all be gone by then, and hired by banks.”
The special counsel’s investigating team:
“You better watch out, you better not lie, better not text, I’m tellin’ you why:
Robert Mueller’s comin’ to town.
He’s writin’ down names, from A’s to the Z’s, and linkin’ them all to a bunch of Rooskies.
Robert Mueller’s comin’ to town.”
Careless homeowners:
“Oh, Christmas tree! Oh, Christmas tree! Pray tell what were the chances?
Oh, Christmas tree! Oh, Christmas tree! That you’d have burning branches?
We never thought those frayed old wires would kindle such a raging pyre.
Oh, Christmas tree! Oh, Christmas tree! You look like California’s fires.”
Most of us as mid-winter ills tighten their grip:
“You’re a mean one, Mister Flu; you’re a rotten, nasty bug.
You cause us to have chills and aches and throw up on the rug.
You’re a foul one, Mister Flu.
Oh, when will we get well?
We wish that you and all your germs
Would just go straight to hell.”
Sam Venable’s column appears Sunday and Tuesday. Contact him at sam.venable@outlook.com.