Every year I swear I won't, but I can't help myself:
Time to dust off the old chestnut.
Dedicated readers of this column know this as its Christmas Classic. It's my favorite misappropriation of what's probably the most revered and abused holiday ditty ever penned.
Nothing has been dragged through the parodist's mud more than "'Twas The Night Before Christmas."
Consider this my hallowed pair of ratty journalistic jeans which no longer function as topical pants, but with the poesy bottom crotch patches of repetitive history still fitting better than anything else in my metrical closet.
My continued heartfelt thanks to everyone for your continued support of the work.
A happy healthy holiday heart hearth to all!
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