Listen to What I Say

It's taken a while, and Saint Nick knows there were a few contenders, but in the end, there is only one Worst Christmas Song:

"Do You Hear What I Hear"

I know, I know. Someone just piped up about that extended whine/lisp about two front teeth; or that voyeur who caught Mommy macking on Santa Claus; or the ghastly Grandmother/Reindeer set-to and yes, those songs are horrible. But those songs started their life as awful songs. They were conceived to make the thought of chewing tinfoil preferable to hearing them twice in a row. Of course, the songwriters called that quality "cute," but as some people call Honey Boo Boo "cute" and some call her a "harbinger of end-times sucking back a Mountain Dew," we mean the same thing. Those songs - deathless as they are - never pretend to be anything with gravitas, meaningful or even in English.

"Do You Hear What I Hear," on the other hand, thinks it's something. It's got a story to tell and, darn it, it's a Jesus-y Story. But, see, it's actually less a story about the Son of God who came to earth for the benefit of all mankind and more the story of a son of a man who came to songwriting for the detriment of similes.

Let us consider:

Said the night wind to the little lamb

Do you see what I see

Way up in the sky little lamb

Do you see what I see

A star, a star

Dancing in the night

With a tail as big as a kite

With a tail as big as a kite


A tail.

As big as a kite.

A kite.

So out in the desert, one Wise Man looked up and said to the other two Wise Men, "Say, it is just me or does that star have a freakishly short tail? That's got to MEAN SOMETHING!"

And these Wise Men. Let's see what the songwriter has to say about them:

Said the shepard boy to the mighty king

Do you know what I know

In your palace wall mighty king

Do you know what I know

A child, a child

Shivers in the cold

Let us bring him silver and gold

Let us bring him silver and gold


Perhaps this is my decade-plus in the parenting trenches talking here but the child shivers in the cold and the Wise Men arrive with metal? Was the songwriter implying they would smelt him into warmth? Sure, the writer had to work with the story as written and needed a rhyme for "Gold," but without even trying, I'm thinking he could have noticed the barn was "OLD," perhaps a bell had "TOLLED," the frozen bedding wouldn't "FOLD." But, no. The infant Jesus is at risk of dying of exposure and we're all going to pray these perhaps inappropriately-named Wise Men will realize that gold not only warms babies if carefully piled on top of them but can also purchase blankets.

But hark! Here comes another clunky and mystifying simile!

Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy

Do you hear what I hear

Ringing through the sky shepherd boy

Do you hear what I hear

A song, a song

High above the tree

With a voice as big as the sea

With a voice as big as the sea

The sea isn't completely quiet but there's a reason the sound of waves hitting the beach is used as white noise for nervous people. Barring Superstorms, it's pretty consistent, not too much variation in tone. In fact, one might correctly say that, in the best possible way, the sea drones. Or maybe crashes. Or maybe slaps. Here's something the sea never does: ring. I have friends who sail and if they were out on the water and heard a ring, they're first response would be "EXPLETIVE! We hit a buoy!" Are we to assume by these lyrics that God hit a celestial buoy?

And then the writer brings everything to a group-hug conclusion:
Said the king to the people everywhere

Listen to what I say

Pray for peace people everywhere

Listen to what I say

The child, the child

Sleeping in the night

He will bring us goodness and light

He will bring us goodness and light


Well, that's a lovely thought, but what king do you mean? It's useful to note that the "k" in the lyrics I'm looking at is lowercase. So, do you mean Herod, songwriter-person? Because, if you follow the story -- the one without God stubbing his toe on a skybuoy -- Herod's hope for Jesus was to kill him. Herod was the Voldemort of the Nativity. I know you needed to end on an up note, songwriter, but deciding Herod was kind of like a Jimmy Stewart in sandals strains credulity and makes me punch my steering wheel. I'm nearly a heathen and I know about Herod. Did no one do some Scriptural version of spell-checking this?

Add in a pace best described as "Turtle blood-flow" and the whole thing is like a funeral march for joy. And hope. And rhyming. I'm still staggered this writer worked in the same language as Leonard Cohen, Stephen Sondheim and the person who wrote the Chili's baby-back ribs ad.

And his estate made five times what I did last year. That's what I hate about the song most of all.