By Dave Pickell Dec. 20, 2005
*
Contents: 1 elf, 1 Santa, 1 Rudolph, 1 moral, a dog named Daisy, and several mechanical choirboys
Malcontents: the readers
Special feature!! this year my talented neighbour and friend Angus Bungay left his sculpting briefly to knock out some delightful illustrations. Thanks Gus! Enjoy.
*
Aldo the elf had a mind of his own -
A three-foot-tall pointy-eared iconoclast
That mind, (neither stolen or taken on loan),
Was getting more cranky with each day that passed.
His job in the workshop left time to reflect
(As he sewed the glass eyes on each stuffed Teddy Bear)
"I work on these toys but I get no respect:
The spotlight is centred on Santa! So there
Is need for adjustment! Tradition must give
A chance for some others to step up and shine!
If there was an opening, sure as I live -
I’d muscle my way to the
front of the line!"
A sudden new thought in
his mind came alive,
A thought large and scary! but also quite grand:
With Christmas Eve’s journey about to arrive,
The thought grew and grew ‘til it grew out of hand.
He thought: "THAT tradition outmatches the rest,
Old Santa delivering gifts in his sleigh.
Why must it be SANTA?? Well, might I suggest,
It’s only because we’re all USED to that way.
He’s the ‘jolly old elf’’ — but come on: for Pete’s sake!
There’s lots of elves ready to drive and distribute
This year to be fair he should GIVE IT A BREAK
And give someone ELSE their own chance to contribute!
And Santa", (thought he), "though he makes not a toy,
Gets all of the kudos and all the applause!
It’s really not fair for old ‘fats’ to enjoy
That glory for ever and ever BECAUSE:
"IT’S TIME FOR A CHANGE! — that is easy to see:
And THIS YEAR the driver is
GOING
TO
BE
ME!!!!"
*
But, though he would often quite loudly express
His radical views to whomever passed by,
He knew this NEW notion was so in excess
Of normalcy, it must be kept on the sly.
A plan must be made - and be made quickly too -
To hijack the presents, and reindeer, and sleigh:
And for things to work - without flaw - Aldo knew
He’d have to get Santa Claus out of the way.
How could this be done? — well, he plotted so deep
Which — in a good cause — would be cause to rejoice.
He’d heard, at those times when old Nick couldn’t sleep,
Mrs. Santa would croon in
a singsongy voice:
"High over the rooftops, all smothered in snow
"Where only the birds or the reindeer can go
You’ll soon, Santa, soar like a swallow in flight
But — now — close your
eyes — bid the world a goodnight".
She’s sing it through once then she’d sing it through twice
Old Nick’s restless eyelids would drop on the spot,
Her warbly contralto (untrained, but quite nice)
Accomplished what glasses of warm milk could not.
And Santa found sleep in that hypnotic sound
From which he would rise in the morn in the pink,
But not before posting a rest so profound
He’d snore through the roar of an earthquake, I think.
So if Santa, pre-sleightime, was hit with that song,
He’d drift off for sure, and the sleigh would be free:
And Aldo, dressed warmly, (his johns would be long!!)
Would pilot the sleigh, and make elf history.
*
Christmas Eve, after Santa was decked in his suit,
He would always spend five minutes all on his own,
To study his map reconfirming his route,
And note any spots which might be lesser known.
The place that he chose for this chore was a shed
Attached to the barn where awaited the sleigh:
That shed, warm and cozy and painted in red
Was always adorned in a Christmasy way.
Why even a tree with some ornamentation
Would probably — certainly — take up a spot,
And that was the clincher — the crowning sensation
Of Aldo’s developing hijacking plot.
*
His time in the workshop, one year, had been spent,
Constructing elaborate music-box toys
And, whilst doing that, he’d found time to invent
A magical set of Vienna Choirboys.
Well, magical — that IS a stretch, but see here!
Though four-inches tall, made of matchsticks and glue,
They’d sing on command with a tone high and clear
Any song that their owner had trained them to do.
Aldo stopped by the shop, those wee lads to retrain
(As the Christmas-eve sun shed its last ray of light)
To sing Mrs. Santa’s hypnotic refrain
Which would plunge Santa Claus into sleep for the night.
Then out to the shed: ah! There stood the small tree
With glittering balls, gleaming green, gold, and red.
"You could use less of those!" muttered Aldo, as he,
Removing some, hung up the choirboys instead.
He’d trained them to start on the sound of the ring
Of a bell that he hung on the chair Santa’d use:
He’d sit: bell would tinkle, the choirboys would sing
And Santa’d be off for a marathon snooze.
*
It seemed to work well: Santa entered the shed,
Aldo (hiding outside) checked his watch with a grin:
Five minutes and five seconds passed, then he said
"That song is a snore! It’s a ‘sung Mickey Finn!’
And while Santa is out of it - ALDO is IN!"
He dashed to the barn, and he leaped in the sleigh
The toy-pack was bulging, the deer were intent:
He, grabbing the reins, whispered sharply "AWAY!"
Then whistling twice (Santa style) off they went.
His coursers all surged as they took up the slack -
Then — unused to Aldo - they lurched and went crazy!
A dog - name of Daisy — ran right cross their track!!
THEy ROSE - JUST IN TIME!... WOW! his DRIVING MISSed DAISY!*
* Sorry about the 4 movie titles in one line! I get a royalty from the studios. Of course you know W.O.W is the pop acronym for War of the Worlds which — incidentally, I don’t recommend.
He tugged on the reins — off they sped like a shot!
He loosened - they slowed and then started to fall!
Young Aldo, confused, said "it’s not like I thought!
It’s backwards! but I’ll get the hang after all."
And, giving him credit where
credit is due,
His deermanship called for a tip of the cap.
He soon had the sled on a course straight and true:
The moon gleamed like silver — the sky midnight blue:
Through air crisp with frost those nine coursers they flew:
And Aldo, relaxing, reached down for the map.
*
Well, oops, and then - oops once again! "There’s no map!
Oh NO! what to DO?" Aldo griped, newly tense:
"Hey RUDOLPH! YOU LEAD US - OK? THERE’S A CHAP!"
He yelled! (I confess he - at times - showed good sense).
That reindeer acknowledged, his nose glowing red,
And took up the challenge, as good reindeer will.
The sleigh headed south, there were lights far ahead.
Descending through air that was freezing and still,
Stout Rudolph with toss of his well-antlered head,
Swooped low in a valley, then crested a hill,
Then lit with a gracefulness all reindeer should
On the snow-covered roof of the evening’s FIRST stop!
A chimney there was: (without smoke, that was good!)
And Aldo alighted (with pack): took a hop
Excitement and just a slight fear stirred his feet
But now by the chimney he stood, looking down.
The opening was dark and bereft of all heat
He said: "Here I go!…" with a tentative frown
His left foot went in, then he placed in the right.
He slid to his waist - it was easy at first —
He was in almost up to his chin (but not quite)
When suddenly — what do you think is the worst
Of things life could bring to a Santa imposter
Whose scheming and planning has outrun his luck?
On a night when the world sure could use a defroster
Wee Aldo the CLEVER — our Aldo GOT STUCK.
*
His hands wouldn’t move nor his feet nor his knees,
The reindeer, bemused, stood aside looking on.
They watched as he yelled "Reindeer! Pull me out PLEASE!"
Their knowledge of speech inconveniently gone.
The more he would wriggle, the more
he would wedge
In the chimneypot’s undersized soot-covered maw
In a minute or two his nerves shot past the edge
As he in his harshest imaginings saw
A whole village gathered to gape and to jeer
A miniature man stuck in somebody’s flue
They’d leave him, for certain! To mock and to leer
And Aldo, poor Aldo, with nothing to do
But stay in there stuck to the end of his days,
(Which wouldn’t be long, cause he’d starve or he’d freeze)
Or maybe they’d haul him out into a cage
With a sign reading "Elf-viewings! Five dollars please!"
*
But then while the snow drifted soft on the ground
A new thought exploded all thoughts of his plight.
He thought of the children the whole world around
Who, after a dream-dancing sugarplum night,
Would wake all excited, their eyes shining bright -
Then tears that would fall with no presents in sight!
Concern for himself disappeared in a trice
As concern for his mission now rushed to the fore,
His heart blazed within him: though caught in a vise,
He wiggled, and FELT HIMSELF MOVE! Then once more…..
He threw back his head, gave his shoulders a shove
Then pushed — alternating — with right and left knee:
A twist of the spine chiropractors would love,
A kick of his ankles and then he was free!
All business. he stood. Then it struck him: just HOW
To place all the gifts where they needed to be?
‘Cause try as he might they could not be dropped down
And just ‘self-arrange’ under each family’s tree - -
He stamped as he pondered, and wrinkled his brow :
Then LEAPED! As a voice said "Why don’t you use ME?"
*
And there on the rooftop stood SANTA! Complete
With beard, pipe, and boots, and his famous red gear!
Our hero, wee Aldo, looked down at his feet,
Then stammered "why — S-S-anta! How d-d-did you get HERE?"
*
"I’ll explain as we travel! There’s time enough then -
But right now, young Aldo, there’s work to be done!"
He smiled, then he winked and then winked once again -
And shrunk from his six feet to zero foot one.
Then Santa (with pack) down the dark chimney slid
A few seconds passed — then Old Santa (plus pack)
Shot back out the chimney - and grinned as he did
While yelling (with Schwarznegger accent) "I’m back!"
He dropped to the roof like a leaf in the fall,
A one-inch-tall Santa Claus, thistledown-light
And suddenly grew to his full six feet tall,
Then chortled "Come On! Hey — we don’t have all night…!"
He chivvied the elf - whose whole mind was a-skew -
Back into the sleigh, whistled twice, and they rose,
Then said, "Aldo: I will explain it to you
What caused the collapse of the scheme that you chose.
*
"Your sleepy-time-Santa trick? Doomed from the start! —
Mrs. Santa’s technique with her VOICE, not the song
Brings effects soporific. Your choir sang with heart —
But high, and not wobbly enough — just plain wrong!
I read your intention, I spied you outside
So pretended to sleep, then I sneaked out the back
Of the shed, to the barn — then proceeded to hide
(After shrinking myself) in the folds of the pack.
I needed to see how you’d manage the flight
I knew you’d get stuck: and I wanted to view
If — stuck — you could focus on more than YOUR PLIGHT
And — gladly — I found I was right about you.
*
"The thing is, now listen up, young pointy-ears:
To properly GIVE, your own SELF must REDUCE
When you thought of the children IN SPITE of your fears,
You shrunk JUST A LITTLE — enough to get loose!
*
"Now let me explain, I’ve a motive, you see:
As the world’s population expands and expands
There’s might come a time when it’s TOO MUCH for me,
And then I might need — well — one more pair of hands
To act as a backup. Now look: I said, MIGHT —
But signs are around that it could come in view.
My backup needs choosing, the choice must be right —
And Aldo: the backup I’m choosing is YOU!
I admire your resource, you were good with the sled
And have a good whistle (that is, for an elf…)
But beyond that, I saw how your heart ruled your head
In a moment when most would think just of himself.
That marvelous quality, shrinkage of self
That enables gift-giving to work like a charm,
Was in you, though buried: but NOW, my young elf,
You’ve found it! So PRACTICE!" he gripped Aldo’s arm:
"Tonight as we soar through the sky on our route,
If you achieve shrinkage to (say) two foot three,
I’ll get Mrs. Santa to fix you a suit
And you’ll go in training my backup to be.
Keep focused on others: let self fall away,
Just think ‘I can DO THIS!’ don’t dwell on ‘I can’t’…
And when you start shrinking don’t let your mind stray!
(It’s kind of like Zen with a far-northern slant.)"
*
So Aldo — aware there was limited space
In a sled made for one single driver and pack
Kept focused like crazy — a smile on his face
On Santa’s directive. He made an attack
On self-serving me-centred traits in his mind
And clung to one practical, generous thought:
"Make more room for Santa!" — and what did he find?
The more that he thought it, the smaller he got.
It wasn’t quite magical, Aldo soon learned.
It was hard. BUT - when Santa’s world-journey was through -
He found (Santa measured him when they returned)
He could get himself down to (you guessed it) two two.
Now Aldo, the heretofore malcontent
elf
Who once wished to tamper with Christmas tradition
Is working like crazy on shrinking himself
And acts like a — well — like an elf on a mission
To all of his elvish dimensions diminish.
It's getting more easy with each passing day.
And now it’s MY mission this poem to finish
Before you lose patience and toss it away!
(I hear you — "It rhymes, but its plotting is thinnish:
That POEM'S in need of some shrinkage!!!"
— you’ll say.)
Merry Christmas 2005!
