Hey there, yule logs. Welcome (almost) to the official start of the Cubsmas season, which is marked by the annual MLB winter meetings, not Thanksgiving, as most people think. I know that’s a monkey in the wrench for you traditionalists who believe that choking down a dried out bird, and fighting the unwashed masses on Michigan Avenue the day after, are somehow festive. But hey, far be it from me to judge. I’m just sayin’.

And while we’re on the subject, the Schlombowski’s don’t do turkey on turkey day either. In this household, if you’re gonna stuff something it better be a sausage casing, my friend. So every year I send away for an economy-size, special-Joe-version beef bunger and jam it with the most delectable processed meats known to man and Cubs fans alike. (That would cover everything except liverwurst. I mean it’s got ‘liver’ in the name, for chrisakes. And ‘wurst’! That stuff is not going in the temple that is my body. Alright, it’s more like a tool shed … I’ll give you that. But no liverwurst.) Anyway, so I do my Brancusi imitation on it so it kinda looks like a turkey. I do this to make the in-laws feel better. (Inheritance.) This, I should tell you, is not always successful. One year, for instance, my brother-in-law turned white as a soda cracker, and started ranting about how it looked like Jesus, phoned WGN, and an hour later 400 people and 3 news trucks were on the front lawn. And another year it was a dead ringer for Nixon. No kidding.

But back to the holiday season thing.

I scribbled down my own lyrics to some carols most people know, so they’d be easy to sing and to kinda put everyone in the Cubsmas spirit. And Lord knows, after that performance in the playoffs last year, we can sure use a little spirit. I also recommend the kind that comes out of frosty 12 ounce bottles. Plus, it’ll make my lyrics sound way better. Anyway, I’m posting one here, and will put up a few more between now and Jesus’ birthday, so check back every other day or so. And don’t forget to pass them along, either, Rudolph.

Oh, and one more thing before the lyrics:

I’ve been asking for the same damn gift ever since I outgrew Creepy Crawlers. And yet, all these years later, no Series for the Cubs. I can’t believe I could still be on the naughty list, especially given that it’s been 30 years since that thing with the telescope. Maybe it’s cuz Santa’s a Yankees fan (which would explain why he’s fat and sadistic). Doesn’t explain the suit, though. He’d have to be a San Francisco fan for that, and since they’ve won the Series 3 times in the last 6 years, it does kinda seem to explain it. It doesn’t really matter though, because I figure a little Cubsmas cheer will most definitely help the cause. (That and some actual hitting in the playoffs. And some defense. And knowing where the strike zone is.)

So, pallie, in the paraphrased words of Buddy Elf, “The best way to spread Cubsmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.” And to quote Mr. Country Joe McDonald, “There’s about 300,000 of you f—–s out there. I want you to start singin’!”

Here you go, and Merry Cubsmas.

Joe

WRIGLEY WONDERLAND
(Sung to Winter Wonderland)

That pitch was crushed, did you see it,
Sail o’er the wall? Holy she-it.
A beautiful sight,
We’re happy tonight,
Watching in a Wrigley wonderland.

Let’s finally kill that damn goat curse.
A hundred years, it couldn’t be worse.
It’s pretty scary.
Let’s win for Harry.
Watching in a Wrigley wonderland.

In the bleachers we all love our Cubbies,
And we throw back balls that don’t belong.
The Old Style’s served in cups,
But poured from stubbies.
Man, I could eat those brats
All summer long.

Later on, we’ll meet at Murphy’s,
For chicken wings, swimmin’ in blue cheese.
Then we’ll jump on the El,
Back home quick as hell.
Watching in a Wrigley wonderland.

In the bleachers we all love our Cubbies;
Aramas Derek, Ryan, Z-man and Lou.
We love them just like
Women love their hubbies;
More when things are good
Than when they’re poo.

When they win, ain’t it thrillin’?
Waving my arms, my beer starts spillin’.
We sing Go Cubs Go.
What a wonderful show.
Watching in a Wrigley wonderland.

Watching in a Wrigley wonderland.
Watching in a Wrigley wonderland.