I have no one to blame but myself.
They told me I was foolhardy to listen to Christmas music on the radio before Thanksgiving. But I had braved these minefields before, and I’d made my peace with the fact that “Last Christmas” by Wham! has inexplicably become a holiday standard.
But I wasn’t prepared for “Christmas Shoes.”
Usually by the time of my first encounter, I’ve had a few weeks to steel myself and mount some kind of defense. But my first hit came early in the season, and I was caught unawares. I didn’t recognize the instrumental intro soon enough, and before I knew it, I heard those first few words…
“It was almost Christmas time, and there I stood in another line…”
I lunged for the dial, but the damage was already done.
You may think I’m overreacting, and that one can voluntarily expose oneself to this odious piece of Yuletide dreck without leaving permanent scars on your immortal soul. But you’d be wrong. So very, very wrong.
Consider the maudlin premise. You begin with a kid with poor hygiene who abandons his dying mother’s bedside on Christmas Eve in order to buy her a pair of shoes so she can look good in her coffin. There are the obvious questions, such as, you know, why is he abandoning his dying mother’s bedside on Christmas Eve in order to buy her a pair of shoes so she can look good in her coffin? But those questions are easy. The real horror lies in the questions no one thinks to ask.
Here’s one: how did this kid get to the store in the first place?
Think about it. He’s clearly not old enough to drive himself, and it’s unlikely that he lives next door to a Famous Footwear or a Foot Locker. So that means someone gave him a ride, and, given that we’re told he is “dirty from head to toe,” his chauffeur is probably somebody from his own family who is used to the stench. So now you have at least two members of the family are leaving Mom to die alone.
“But, Stallion,” I hear you say. “Maybe he took the bus.”
No, he didn’t. Remember, his entire life savings is supposedly the collection of pennies he dumps on the cashier’s counter, and he needs to con the singer into picking up the difference. How was he going to get home without bus fare? See, I’ve thought this through, because I’m a professional. Don’t try this at home.
Anyway, you’ve got one kid trying to buy shoes with pennies, and another older kid, or maybe even Dad, waiting in the parking lot. Why doesn’t the driver come in to help shop for the shoes? Because two people would ruin the scam. And, come on, who do they think they’re fooling? The whole thing is a scam.
There’s no dying mom. There’s just a couple of kids, a Sparkletts water bottle filled pennies, and a story that gets strangers to buy shoes for them all over town. The day after Christmas, the older kid goes back to the stores, returns all the shoes, and pockets the cash. Meanwhile, suckers all over town are still feeling warm and fuzzy and think they now know “what Christmas is all about,” while two underage grifters score a bunch of easy marks. Next year, they’re going to move up from shoes to bigger prizes.
“Could you buy this flat-screen TV for my mama, please? It’s Christmas Eve, and this XBox is just her size…”
“Christmas Shoes” is everything vile, repugnant, and disturbing about the world today distilled down into two verses, a bridge, and a chorus. If you listen to the radio unprepared, don’t say I didn’t warn you.