On day seven I doom my immortal soul
Today I was listening to Christmas Music on the radio when this song comes on and I’m not really paying attention until I hear:
Standing right in front of me
Was a little boy waiting anxiously
Pacing around like little boys do
And when it came his time to pay
I couldn’t believe what I heard him say
Sir I wanna buy these shoes for my Momma please
It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry Sir?
Well. This is feeling a little ominous I think to myself.
The singer goes on:
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 will make her smile
And I want her to look beautiful
If Momma meets Jesus, tonight.
I stand there in front of my radio with my hand over my mouth and tears are streaming down my face.
And I’ll never forget
The look on his face
When he said Momma’s gonna look so great.
I take a look around to make sure I am alone
I take my hand off my mouth and I start to laugh. I can’t help it.
Oh sweet God, this kid is buying shoes for a dead woman and this a Christmas song.
A CHRISTMAS SONG.
To add fuel to the fire
this kid is not any kid. Oh no. He’s a poor kid which means:
… his clothes were worn and old
He was dirty from head to toe
So this dirty poor kid is buying shoes for his Mother who might be going to meet Jesus.
I don’t know why this song sent me into hysterical fits of laughter. Maybe it’s because the song was so over the top and it was an obvious attempt to tug the heart strings of who… I mean, I’m drawing a blank here…who would be touched by a song like this?
All I know is that with my luck this is probably a true story and for reacting the way I did I’ m sure I’m going straight to Hell when I die.
Aren’t I?


BING-BING. “The doors are about to close. Please keep any and all appendages in the basket at all times. This is an express route, repeat, an express route. Next stop: the Sixth Circle (Heresy). Thank you for descending with the HBTA (Hand Basket Transit Authority).”
I will give myself some credit MB, when I get there I’ll bet I have the funniest ‘how I got here ‘ story in the place.,
Yep, I will have learned NOTHING.
Reminds me of Rolf Harris’ song “Two Little Boys” or Bobby Goldsborough’s “Honey”…… I hate those maudlin heartstring tuggers
But “Leader of the Pack”…..
(damn! wordpress won’t let me cut and past the clip – you’ll have to do your own search)
My grandparents used to buy records like this, sit around the record player and cry their eyes out. It confused the hell out of me.
Cripes what a song.
It boggles the mind when you hear the songs that are about death.
If you think the Christmas Songs are weird…