Signs of the Times, Issue No. 187 - 12/20/11

I take time one day of the year to prove that I am the master of rhymes. Today is that day.

Greetings to all and greetings to you!
It's time for some rhyming 'cause that's what I do.
Come one! Come all! Please do take a seat!

For a tale I'll tell you and friends you will meet!
There's plenty of humor, but not enough snow.
Is that really a problem? Who cares? On we go!


It's Christmas this Sunday. Doesn't feel like it. Funny.
It hasn't been snowy, nor has it been sunny.
Has Christmas yet come with its wintry delight?
It is harder to tell with each dark, passing night.
There's been clouds, high-speed winds, and it's even been smoggy.
The later I stay up, the more I am groggy.


I wake each morning with sleep in my eyes
But Friday I slept in, got Burger King fries.
Since when did they change them? That's no Christmas treat!
What a marketing ploy! It was truly discrete.
I hope they don't last. These new fries can't be!
I didn't much like them. At least they were free.


And now as I sit here with "Signs of the Times,"
I'm racking my brain to come up with more rhymes.
This would be quite a task for the mere, mortal man
But my name is A-Town. I know that I can.
Yes, I know it is early with much more to come
So I'll try to be clever, not sound like I'm dumb.


Let me tell you a story of Aaron and Craig.
Plus, Austin was there and we all broke a leg.
Not literally, though, for that'd be such a shame.
Three handicapped heroes? That truly is lame.
We three were all there in our Yuletide attire
And we all sipped our egg nog whilst we sat by the fire.

Throughout that whole night we had quite the exchange.
Sang some sweet Christmas carols that were just out of range.
It was all fine at first, then the melody peaked.
I could not reach it and Austin's voice squeaked.
Although they were fancy, those songs that we sang,
They all came to an end when the telephone rang.


I picked up the phone. It was someone from ZAGG.
A work call for Christmas? Oh my! What a drag.
An elderly woman. She's terminally ill.
Her order? Delayed. She was ready to kill.
I had ruined her Christmas. She was angry. So sad.
She just wanted a keyboard for her brand new iPad.

It wasn't my fault, I exclaimed with my might.
She didn't quite buy that. She wanted to fight.
How could I do this? She's confined to a chair.
She argued and swore as I pulled out my hair.
Why can't we help out? She believed it a cinch.
Though it's not all that easy, I'd become the Grinch.

What can I say? I guess that's what I do.
I'm destroying Christmases for people like you.
I don't have all power. I'm not an inventor.
And I don't control shipping from my simple call center.
Not entirely sure why I must take the blame,
What ever. Doesn't matter. Now back to the flame.


We huddle around, Austin, Craig T., and I.
I searched for my Snuggie and started to cry.
There was not the most comfort, Indian-style on the floor,
But we tried to make due. Hey! A knock on the door!
I was too lazy and Austin, asleep.
Craig went to the entry. I continued to weep.

But then what to our wondrous eyes did appear?
But my friend, Donny Osmond. I let out a cheer!
Hip-hip-hip-hooray! I'm feeling so gay!
(But you know what I meant. Didn't mean it THAT way.)
What joy had then entered to my poor Grinchy heart.
I tossed down my Snuggie and to Donny did dart.

(You'd go darting, too. Admit it.)

He brought us good tidings of joy, happiness.
Took our minds off our present ZAGG customer mess.
"I'm here for the week!" said our Donny with glee.
I was pleasantly happy he'd spend Christmas with me.
He asked to sing carols. It'd be so much fun.
Austin kindly rejected. We were already done.

Now what would we do with the time we were given?
Could we go for a cruise? Had anyone driven?
We looked out the window but we didn't see cars.
With three of us Mormon, couldn't go out to bars.
We all turned to Craig. He gazed back at us three.
We gave him a card for a free DVD.

   

(Baptize Craig T!)

He checked out the offer on the card passed along.
A free church DVD? He couldn't go wrong!
Craig pulled out his phone and he started to dial.
Then his battery died. He can't call for a while.
So we settled back down near the fireplace dear
And then, with a gasp, pray tell, what did we hear?


Jingle-jangle! "Ho! Ho! Ho!"
Up on the housetop, what do you know?
Craning his neck, Austin looked up the chimney...
Dang it, nothing rhymes with chimney. Nevertheless, he looked up.
He squinted his eyes as he peered through the soot.
A grunt, a thud, and here came a foot!

The big jolly man adorned all in red
Popped out from the fireplace, shaking his head.
"Ho! Ho! Ho! I barely squeezed through!"
Whined the man, Santa Claus, with a sharp wince or two.
Put his thumb to his nose and he gave us a wink.
Then he said something else before we could blink:

"No cookies? No milk? No carrots to chew?

What's up with that? That's P.M.U.!!"

He frowned with a fret that appeared on his face

As he turned right around and he looked at the place.

A step with his left. A step with the right.

He made way for the sofa on this cold winter night.

With a plop, down he went. He looked totally spent.

Overall, I would say he was a good-looking gent.

His muscular cheeks, his not-so-chiseled features.

To go with my TV, did he bring me some speakers?

He reached into his vest and he pulled out a list.

Donny said, "If I'm not there, I'll really be mad."

(Were we naughty or nice???)

"Naughty," said Nick, as he read down the scroll.

"Kobe? Divorce. Warren Jeffs? No parole.

"Donny, Austin, Aaron, Craig T...

"You've made me quite happy. As happy can be.

"You have all been good boys, so I bid you adieu.

"Check your stockings tomorrow for what I have brought you."

And with that he was gone. Made it back up the flue.

It felt much more vacant with one less in the roo.................m.

I sat there and pondered and what I reason?

There was a segment gone missing this season.

'Twas that time of the week where I gave the Shoutout.

I knew just who deserved it without any doubt.

For something long-lasting - not fleeting or cursory -

You must certainly celebrate your own anniversary.

I could write them a novel, could sing them a psalm.

I could make them both laugh with one Triple Facepalm.

The Shoutout this week goes to someone I like.

Happy 14th, Sandra Brunson, and your husband, Mike.

Austin drew back the curtains, we all looked outside.

Were there terrorists coming? Was there reason to hide?

No no, there were not. No, nothing at all.

Just the neighbor kids playing a game of football.

It's that time of year, just after the fall.

I had better deliver another Game Ball.

Yet again on a week when I end trailing TARDIS,

A guy on my squad was the one who played hardest.

4-12 in the air. Put 5 touchdowns on tally.

But 65 ain't enough and I need a big rally.

Thank you Mr. Drew Brees, but fun though it has been

I'll need two more big weeks if I'm going to win.

(Merry Christmas, Drew)

The night had grown dim and the fire had stalled

But thankfully no more mad customers called.

We were all settled down as St. Nick spanned the globe.

We got ready for bed (and I put on a robe).

We stayed up way too late and we all reminisced

Of the moon above and the girls we'd kissed.

(Just kidding, not really, that was just Austin's deal.

I also told stories, though none of them real.)

Craig T. told us tales of his past TV shows.

Donny got bored so to sleep he did doze.

One thing, I might add, but not to be rude

Is that under my bathrobe I STILL wasn't nude.

As our energy waned and our consciousness fled,

There were so many things bouncing 'round in my head.

What was the best? The manna from Heaven?

Vote now for your favorites from 20-11.

How was I this year? Did I fail? Did I thrive?

Head to the blog site and pick the top five.

First Donny, then Austin. At long last, Craig T.

They all fell asleep and the last one was me.

I crept toward the mantle and I smiled at myself

And placed the new Christmas card up on the shelf.

I tip-toed like a ninja and I turned out the light.

Merry Tuesday to all, and to all a good night.

Until next Time,

Move It. Sell It. And Leave the Door Open.

Aaron