Dec 07, 2008 00:35
The radio insists upon playing a particular Christmas song at a rate of about three times per hour - some woman singing that all she wants for Christmas is an unspecified you, baby. Among a long list of things she will not be doing this Yuletide in favour of wishing for the companionship of you, baby, is included: "I won't even stay awake to hear those magic reindeers click." Leaving aside the fact that the proper plural is simply "reindeer," I have to wonder why she expects them to click. I suppose it must be a reference to "Up On The Housetop," where their hooves are, in fact, specified to "click click click" before out on the roof jumps old Saint Nick, but every time I hear it I am momentarily sent into a transport of consideration of some sort of steam-powered reindeer automatons, their clockwork innards clicking and ticking and tocking away merrily as they glide through the wintry air.
That said, I find within my soul a yearning for companionship to ease the solitude of my days; I look upon the name upon my office door, and I sigh, for justification of peace and pacification of justice proves to be rather slow work, leaving much time for contemplation and little free coffee. Let us gather, friends and neighbours all, and feast upon cocoa and cookies. Psmith, in his bountiful magnanimity, shall provide the cocoa; the cookies shall be sent, no doubt, by a gracious Providence, or by those of you who choose to attend. Steam-assisted clockwork reindeer are optional.