“Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer”
As told by: Dasher
Okay, let me say this right off the bat: Rudolph is a dick. I want that known. I want it in print. He was a dick before he got famous, and he was even worse afterward. Just impossible to work with. And, as you might guess, I’m not too thrilled with the song. Most people skip the beginning part that mentions me and the other reindeer by name, even though we do like 99% of the actual work.
And the part they do sing makes us all seem like a bunch of bigots and hypocrites. Which we’re not. At all. Like, for instance, we all knew about Prancer years before he came out to Barbara Walters. And we didn’t judge him. But this song makes it sound like we discriminated against Rudolph because of his nose and then sucked up to him when he got famous. And neither of those things is remotely true.
But let’s talk about that nose, huh? Now, keep in mind, I cannot prove this, but who else do you know at the North Pole who has a famous red nose? And guess who I saw sneaking out of the reindeer stable with a guilty look on his face about seven and a half months before Rudy was born? Well, add two and two together and see if you get four. Anyhow, everybody knew what was up, including Rudy, and don’t think he didn’t throw it in our faces. illegitimate or not, he was the boss’ son, and we had to treat him as such.
The part about how we “used to laugh and call him names”? Never. At least not when he was around. Maybe in private a little. We did keep him out of some reindeer games, but that was because he sucked at them. Reindeer hockey? Sucked. Reindeer lacrosse? Sucked. Reindeer Australian rules football? Well, you get the idea. Just no athletic prowess at all.
As for the part about the “foggy Christmas eve,” I don’t even know where to start, other than to say it’s not true. Pure marketing. Look, it’s always foggy somewhere in the world. So why didn’t this issue come up before? Because Rudy wanted to be up front, and Santa needed to come up with some bullshit excuse to make that happen. Plain and simple.
Did you know that Rudy hasn’t been out on a Christmas Eve run in decades, by the way? Yeah. He stays home, soaks in his Jacuzzi, and waits for the royalty checks to come in while we deliver the toys. That’s Rudy in a nutshell. He put a cigarette out in Comet’s eye once. But do they add that to the song? Nope. Comet can’t even watch 3D movies anymore. And yet it’s Rudy who gets the stop-motion TV special. It’s a damn shame.
So Rudolph will “go down in history” all right. As a complete asshole. Okay, interview over. I need a drink.
“Frosty the Snowman”
As told by: The Traffic Cop
As long as I live, I’ll never forget that terrible day.
The name’s Gus, by the way. Officer Gus Kowalczyk. 40 years on the force. Retired now. You wouldn’t know any of that from the song, naturally. Back in those days, I was assigned to traffic detail. So that part, at least, is true. The rest? Well…
How this incident ever became a Christmas song for children is beyond me. I guess the kids remember it the way they want. See, Frosty wasn’t a magical snowman who came to life. Far from it. He was just a homeless guy who liked his fortified wine. A lot. He mostly slept behind the A&P. I left him alone because he was harmless. Or at least I thought he was. Honestly, I didn’t give him much thought. He was sort of rotund and had a big white beard, so I guess that’s where the “snowman” comparison came in.
Anyway, a group of school kids found him back there one day and gave him this hat they’d made. It was construction paper, not silk like it says in the song. They also gave him a broom. Big mistake. He was high as a kite that day, and he was in the mood to raise hell. So, as I understand it, he started ranting and staggering around the downtown area, and the kids just followed him wherever he went.
Well, Frosty used that broom he’d been given to smash in the windows of stores and cars. Plus he was relieving himself pretty much wherever he pleased. Just disgusting. Of course, the people who were downtown doing their Christmas shopping were not too amused by this, and they tried to stop him. But Frosty wasn’t trying to hear it, and he just punched anyone who came near him. Some of those bums are surprisingly strong. And mean.
Eventually, this old lady — Doris, I think her name was — confronted him and tried to subdue him with her purse. But he overpowered her and started raining blows upon her with his bare fists. That’s when I intervened. Or tried to, anyway. I yelled and yelled at him to quit it. “For god’s sake,” I said, “stop what you’re doing!”
But he only paused a moment when he heard me holler, “Stop!”
I tried to chase after him, but the sidewalks were kind of slushy that afternoon, and I wasn’t really wearing the right shoes. Typical rookie mistake. I was new on the force, you see. Green as grass. Believe me, I’ve been replaying that day in my mind for over 50 years now. It still haunts me.
Sometimes, in my dreams, I hear the sickening sound of his hands beating that lady black-and-blue. “Thumpity thump thump! Thumpity thump thump! Look at that Frosty go!”
We never did catch up with Frosty. He gave the kids some cock-and-bull story about how he had to leave town because the sun was too hot that day. In truth, he had a lot of outstanding warrants and couldn’t afford to get arrested, certainly not for assault, indecent exposure, and malicious destruction of property, not to mention public intoxication.
If any good came from that day, it’s that it was a tremendous learning experience for me as a young police officer. I eventually made sergeant. And, yeah, I still occasionally get recognized from the cartoon special. I don’t get any money from that, though. Do you know who to talk to about that, by the way? You’re right. It’s not important.
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Originally from Flint, MI, but now making his home in the suburbs of Chicago, Joe Blevins is a self-described darkener of doorsteps and a chronicler of all things that truly do not matter. Of late, he has been wasting the time of readers through The A.V. Club, Splitsider, and his own blog, Dead 2 Rights, which used to be about zombies before those became a cliche. Now it’s about god knows what.