As previously noted, this will be the last illustrated instalment. I’m working on something in a different format, and I’ll put it up when I’m done. Until then… I don’t know. I’ll try to post more than once a month, at least.
Part 26 will go up later this week, and it’ll be the last instalment for a while. I’ve got some ideas about how to take this story in a different, more text-based direction, but they’re still pretty vague.
I meant to turn “Odd Christmas Songs” into a series, but then Christmas got on top of me and I forgot. Ah well. It’s Christmas Eve, so here’s Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s “The Power of Love”, the only Christmas song to feature references to vampires, the Fantastic Four, and The Perils of Penelope Pitstop. Furthermore, the only reason it even counts as a Christmas song is because there’s a Nativity play going on in the video. Mind you, the only reason “Stay Another Day” counts as a Christmas song is that it was Christmas Number One that year, so clearly the whole thing is completely arbitrary.
In other news, I wish you all a merry Christmas and a less depressing Boxing Day than usual.
I first became aware of this song (specifically, the Nat King Cole version) last year. I’d probably heard it before, but, until then, I hadn’t listened to the lyrics properly. The first verse gives a list of Christmas presents that the little boy asked for and didn’t get, then describes him gazing forlornly at the other children in the street playing with their new toys. The first verse ends:
“I’m so sorry for that laddie / He hasn’t got a daddy*/ The little boy that Santa Claus forgot.”
OK, you think, We’ve had the tragic first verse, so now in the second verse we’ll hear about how the other children felt sorry for him as well and decided to share their toys. Or how Santa suddenly noticed his mistake and zoomed back to the boy’s house to drop off his presents. Or how a handsome millionaire proposed to the boy’s mum and whisked them both off to his mansion full of Christmas trees and tame polar bears you can ride.
Instead of any of that, we get a repeat of the first verse, and then the song ends.
Seriously. That’s where we leave him; orphaned, present-less and jealous, with Nat King Cole feeling sorry for him. It’s like if Charles Dickens had ended A Christmas Carol with Scrooge taking his niece and nephew on holiday to the Bahamas, with Tiny Tim never being mentioned again.
There’s another odd detail in the reference to “last year’s broken toys.” So… Santa doesn’t forget him every year, then? That’s something, at least. And, what, he managed to break every one of his Christmas presents in the last twelve months? Or did somebody else break them? Details, song, details.
Anyway, this year, I’ve finally worked out what this song reminds me of. Behold.
*”Just thought we’d throw that detail in there, just in case you weren’t feeling sad yet!”
Sunday Night (Halloween)
Nan and Granddad said that Sandy didn’t have to go back to school tomorrow if she wasn’t feeling up to it, but, much as Sandy could have used another day to get all her homework done, she thought she’d be relieved to get back and see her friends. The sooner this half-term was well and truly in the past, the better.
As Sandy sat in the dining room, finishing off her last bit of Geography homework (a tourist brochure advertising the town of Cheddar, which Sandy’s teacher was pretty sure would soon replace Ibiza as the hottest holiday destination in Europe), it occurred to her that today was Halloween. Most years, she’d have regretted not taking the time to invite her friends round to watch scary films and eat candy vampire teeth, but this year she was OK with sitting it out. She’d had about enough of spooky things for now.
Sandy packed her books away in her bag for tomorrow morning, sand went to the living room. With any luck, she’d be able to persuade Nan to change the channel to The Simpsons.
When she got to the living room, Nan was on the sofa, watching Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?. Except, as Sandy found out when she went up to her to ask for the remote, she wasn’t watching it at all. She’d fallen asleep, with her head thrown back against the top of the sofa cushions. Sandy frowned. It was only six o’clock. This wasn’t like her at all.
She touched Nan’s hand. It was cold.
Sandy didn’t give herself any time to panic. She didn’t even give herself a second to think about what might have happened. She just placed her hands a centimetre or two above her nan’s ribcage, roughly where she thought her heart might be, and began to hum.
After about a minute, Nan’s eyes opened. “Hm? What are you up to?”
Sandy might not have given herself any time to panic, but some of it must have got in anyway, because she practically felt like wilting in relief. “You were asleep. I was trying to…”
“Oh God, was I?” Nan sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Teach me to try and pull double shifts down at the pub. I suppose I’ve missed most of this, haven’t I?” she asked, nodding at the TV.
Sandy shrugged.
“Well, here.” She handed Sandy the remote. “You might as well watch whatever you like- I’ve no hope of following this at this point.” She sighed. “Falling asleep in the afternoon. Just like an old woman in a deckchair on the beach. Whatever you do, don’t let your grandfather hear about this- I’d never hear the end of it.”
“OK,” said Sandy, “My lips are sealed.” And she changed the channel.
The End
camelwithout 