The Callout

As is life in any given December in an office, the cafeteria which contributes to my pie hole a couple times a week has began the aural assault of Christmas tunes in an effort to drown out the peace and quiet which accompanies a southwestern chicken Caesar wrap on a spinach tortilla.


Granted, I’m usually listening to the noise provided by various apps on my phone as I pick up escaped pieces of chicken or romaine with a nacho cheese flavored Dorito.  As such, peace and quiet were never really in the equation.




As I was saying “yes” to the crunchy tortilla strips today, Rudolph came up on the old shuffle and the smooth voice of Burl Ives, Gene Autry, or Axl Rose filled the air.


Like a light bulb!


It occurred to me as I listened to that song that the call outs weren’t taking place in the song.


So here’s what I know about Rudolph.


The story was written for Montgomery Wards as some sort of compendium to what I can only guess was their Christmas catalogue.


Like Monopoly!


Did you see that?  I said “Christmas”, not “Holiday”.


The one thing I don’t know about that song is the origin of the call outs that happen after each of the lines.  Who on God’s green Earth came up with those lines?


When the higher-up muckity-mucks sat around the big ole conference table at Monkey Wards all those years ago deciding on the final lyrics for the future timeless classic, was there some sort of wise ass drunk in the room offering up echoes for each line in the song?


I did a couple of searches and haven’t found the origin of the call outs as of yet.


As such, I’m going to go with my theory that some drunken asshole was behind them.  If I had a flux capacitor, I would manage to get myself into the meeting and take the place of the asshole.


Randy Tharp

TharpSter is a husband to one woman, a father to two kids, a master to two dogs, an occasional cubical occupant, and unable to make up his mind on an adequate theme for this website.

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