It’s time to post my annual rant on the worst Christmas song of all time. And the song is the ABSOLUTE WORST CHRISTMAS SONG OF ALL TIME. I'd fight Santa over it if he disagreed. Which he wouldn't. Anyhoo. So we’re a little over a week away from the Big Day. And what better time to reflect on Christmas music? After all, they've been playing in every store across the United States since September! I have some opinions on the Songs o’ the Season 1.) I believe the earlier is better. 2.) More is more. and 3.) Karen Carpenter had the voice of an angel (sorry, Josh Groban.) Also, Kenny Loggin’s “Celebrate Me Home” is one of the better homages to the holiday, Yoko Ono ruins “So This Is Christmas” and Paul McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmastime” is the second worst Christmas song in the world. The first? “The Christmas Shoes.” I know, I know. You love it. It’s soooo sweet and perfect and sums up the true meaning of the season. Well, I’m here to tell you: you are wrong. I heard this song in its entirety for the first time this weekend. What’s that old expression about how you don’t know how much luck you have until it runs out? Anyway. This is the most confectionary, cavity-inducing piece of schlock (aside from “Sometimes When We Touch” by Dan Hill) ever recorded. Also, it makes no sense. Behold, the lyrics of “The Christmas Shoes” by Bob Carlisle, complete with (warning: very cynical) commentary. It was almost Christmas time, there I stood in another line Tryin’ to buy that last gift or two, not really in the Christmas mood (Well, at this point, Bob, who is?) Standing right in front of me was a little boy waiting anxiously Pacing ’round like little boys do And in his hands he held a pair of shoes (OK, fine. I’ll bite.) His clothes were worn and old, he was dirty from head to toe (Dirty from head to toe? Note to shoppers. At this point, you should be gesturing to mall security.) And when it came his time to pay I couldn’t believe what I heard him say Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size Could you hurry, sir, Daddy says there’s not much time You see she’s been sick for quite a while It’s Christmas Eve? Christmas EVE? And your mother is DYING? Jeez buddy, go home, take a shower and sit with your mom. Also, no kid knows his mom’s shoe size. Unless you are Rex Ryan’s kid.) And I know these shoes would make her smile And I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight OK, if your MOM has moments to live, you do not go shopping! And let me just pose this question: how in the name of Manolo Blahnik did this little shoe-buying urchin get to a mall anyway? This little ditty is not based in any sort of reality. I’m two stanzas in and I’m already annoyed. He counted pennies for what seemed like years Then the cashier said, “Son, there’s not enough here” Stop right there. Just stop! This dirty, jumpy kid without a guardian just told you he’s buying a pair of his shoes for his mother – who has one foot in the grave and another on a banana peel – and you’re making him PAY? What in the name of Wal-Mart kind of customer service is this? And what of you, Mr. Bob Carlisle? Oh wait, our narrator steps in, but not before making the kid beg for it: He searched his pockets frantically Then he turned and he looked at me He said Mama made Christmas good at our house Though most years she just did without Tell me Sir, what am I going to do, Somehow I’ve got to buy her these Christmas shoes So I laid the money down, I just had to help him out Way to make the soon-to-be motherless little guy sweat it out, dude. Nice. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he said Mama’s gonna look so great Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size Could you hurry, sir, Daddy says there’s not much time You see she’s been sick for quite a while And I know these shoes would make her smile And I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight I took some confirmation classes and I don’t remember any psalms alluding to our Lord Savior’s fascination with shoes. Like the first thing Jesus is going to say is “OMG, love the open toes! And such a sensible heel. Fabulous!” Maybe He’s a fan of Carrie Bradshaw and her Sex and the City pals. Maybe it’s a Mary Magdelene thing. One thing I’m sure of? It’s weird. I knew I’d caught a glimpse of heaven’s love As he thanked me and ran out I knew that God had sent that little boy To remind me just what Christmas is all about. Ah yes, Christmas is about fetishism, terminal illness and commercialism. Happy Holidays!! Also, this schlock was turned into a Made-For-The-Hallmark-Channel-Movie starring Rob Lowe. There are no words.