Deeper Metrics of Christmas
[Jim Meskimen]
When the Sun dips below the horizon
And seems to descend far too soon
When the trees lose their leaves and stand naked
And the wind blows as cold as the Moon

[ Jack Nicholson]
When the birds wing it South for the winter
At least that's where they seem to head
Then our thoughts tend to drift toward Christmas
With a mixture of pleasure and dread

[Tommy Lee Jones]
December compresses, gets shorter
Feels like a month lasts a week
And a hectic commotion arises
'Till our sanity plays hide and seek

[Robin Williams]
Colorful, bright decorations
music, ribbons, swag
Glow and gleam with the promise of pleasures
So long as you scan the price tag
[George Clooney]
And though most of us grasp well the concept
Mere stuff will not Christmastime make
And we poo poo the grossly commercial
As capitalism's mistake

[Christopher Walken]
And we swear in our faith in the spirit
Whatever the heck that word means
Still, our goal, not to worship consumption
Is shattered all to smithereens

[Ian McKellen]
For which are the true metrics of Christmas?
If not measured in dollars and cents?
Or the miles travelled non-stop domestics
In our efforts to gain recompense?

[Nick Offerman]
Like pollsters, obssessed with percentage
We strive with each package and gift
To boost our "esteemed differential"
And cause sagging poll points to lift

[Christoph Waltz]
If only we had, so we reason,
The more we could buy and bestow
All is dross, to be sure, but regardless,
Do not presence make loved ones' hearts glow?
[Anthony Hopkins]
Our extravagance forms a vast tangle
Standing tightly impacted by guilt
Barricading in our better natures
In our efforts to blossom, we wilt

[John Malkovich]
Recognition, attention, affection
Some laughter, a smile, an embrace
These aren't for sale down at the Walmart
Or any online marketplace

[Arnold Schwarzenegger]
So, at last, to our shame, it's just obvious
Looking back at the months we just spent
Dashing all over town for some bauble
In a frenzy of mass discontent

[Joe Pesci]
That that moment we spent
To ask grandpa what he liked to do in his youth
Or that task we helped momma to finish
Were the things that made Christmas, in truth

[George W. Bush]
All the presents were all soon forgotten
They lay in a pile in the trash
Insecurities dressed up like bridesmaids
Their value just gone in a flash
[Colin Firth]
Far too soon we discover our folly
As the calendar leaves drop away
Precious little that's paid for with money
Will make for a great Christmas day

[Morgan Freeman]
I hope some day we'll learn this lesson
It isn't just sums or amounts
The essential metrics of Christmas
Are those numbers that no one can count

[Jim Meskimen]
Happy holidays!