Things were a little different back then…
We have always made it a policy to avoid humor about sex, drugs and politics, but this season our intrepid editorial staff decided to bend the rules because no one could think of anything funny to write about this holiday season. Let’s face it, 2011 was a crap year any way you look at it, although a few heroic people did stand out and gave us reason to hope for a better future. After a recent three-martini lunch it was decided to see if anyone had some old material we could dredge up and use without paying any royalties.
It turns out that our copy editor, a very clean-cut baby boomer who always wears ties and jackets to lunch, was a college student in the late 1960’s and had the nickname “Tripper.” He was reluctant to divulge the story behind the nickname, but he did offer to let us use a Christmas poem he wrote in 1969. At least he thinks it was 1969, it might have been as early as ’67 or as late as ’73. Regardless, we liked his poem and decided to run it here for all to read and hopefully enjoy. So here is “Tripper’s” account of…
The Night Before Christmas, 1969
T’was the night before Christmas and all through the dorms, The students were restless, they wanted reforms. The dean was tossing and turning in bed, While visions of rioting flashed in his head.
My roommate and I, with a bagful of pot, Had just settled down when the going got hot. Then out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, We rose from the floor to see what was the matter.
I ran to the window and threw up the sash, Then hearing the dean I dumped out the stash. It wasn’t my fault, for how could I know? I dropped it on Santa Claus standing below.
Then what to my bloodshot eyes did appear, But a maddened policeman and eight tiny reindeer. By this time I noticed that Santa was high, And didn’t need reindeer in order to fly.
When he hailed the policeman and called him a name, I knew that this Christmas would not be the same. The students were ready with slogans and signs, To protest this college was far behind times.
Their freedom, they shouted, they’d have at all cost, And gathered round Santa, now looking quite lost. As these things will happen, more police joined the fight, And the scene that ensued was a terrible sight.
Now Santa Claus, being a jolly old elf, With his pipe full of grass was enjoying himself. His face was aglow as he swung at the dean, Who swore out some oaths that were not very clean.
Then above all the noise was heard overhead, The sound of the reindeer pulling their sled. Santa looked up and he started to run, But to catch flying reindeer is not so much fun!
He was still feeling good, but he couldn’t run straight, His tracks were all crooked and he tripped from his weight. But he turned and he shouted, or should I say sighed, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good high!”
MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HANUKKA FROM ALL OF US AT FOR BOOMERS ONLY!
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