Twelve Days of Christmas - the Grim Predicament of Appalling Presents

I’ve always had a bit of a thing about lyrics. Shoddily-written lyrics can put me off the whole song, no matter how appealing the melody. Ludicrous lyrics, on the other hand, can hold a certain fascination which brings me to this season’s subject: The Twelve Days of Christmas. Have you ever really thought about the lyrics, considered the effects of those gifts on the recipient? I have – and it’s a sobering thought.

Day 1: a partridge in a pear tree. Where I live in the tropical north of Queensland, both would expire from heat exhaustion within hours. That’s bad enough until you realise that a partridge and its accompanying pear tree is included in every one of the twelve days. This would be something of a disaster as the local council isn’t due to pick up green waste from our residential area for another two months – we could bury the bodies of the partridges but the storage of all those dead trees would be a problem.

Day 2: two turtle doves. We do have doves here, courtesy of homesick colonists no doubt, so the twenty-two of these (that’s two every day from day 2 to day 12) could be released into the wild to join with their immigrant brothers and sisters.

Day 3: three French hens. Now I can see possibilities for a deal here. I could give all thirty of them (days 3-12) to the nearby chicken farm in exchange for, say, free eggs…

Day 4: four colly birds. That’s right; it’s colly birds, not calling birds. The word ‘calling’ is a mondegreen, a misheard lyric that has survived all efforts to correct it (more about them in a later blog). Colly birds are blackbirds and we have plenty of those so all thirty-six of them (days 4-12) can go the way of the turtle doves and fly free.

Day 5: five gold rings. I always wondered why this line wasn’t golden rings as the extra syllable would fit comfortably with the rhythm of the song. But gold rings it is and, with gold prices being what they are today (I just checked), the sale of all forty (days 5-12) would bring in a very tidy sum!

Day 6: six geese a-laying. I wonder if the chicken farm down the road would accept all forty-two geese (days 6-12) as well? I’ll gift-wrap them.

Day 7: seven swans a-swimming. I trust that these would be black swans which are at least native to this country, unlike the fifty-eight introduced birds I’ve already released. If not, the Greens are going to be picketing my place in protest at the sudden and unwelcome introduction of a further forty-two (days 7-12) non-natives.

Day 8: eight maids a-milking. No! This will never do! While the backyard is fairly spacious, it would never accommodate forty cows (days 8-12) and anyway, I’m lactose-intolerant! I know, they can go to one of the cattle stations out west. The forty milk maids may be surplus to requirements though but, if they’re hell-bent on a rural vocation, they can always turn to fruit-picking; plenty of opportunities there.

Day 9: nine ladies dancing.
Day 10: ten lords a-leaping.
Day 11: eleven pipers piping.
Day 12: twelve drummers drumming.

So that’s a hundred people from the entertainment industry – thirty-six dancers (days 9-12), thirty leaping lords (days 10-12), twenty-two pipers (days 11-12) and twelve drummers. Well we can’t accommodate them all here; we only have the one spare room. Let’s see: Australia’s Got Talent is holding auditions soon so some can try their luck there; others can maybe hire themselves out for Christmas parties and the rest can busk their way around the country in the working holiday of a lifetime.

Right, that seems to be it. What an exhausting Christmas! If you have a present for me, save it for next year – unless it’s alcohol; I could do with a good stiff drink or several after all that!