An ode to ‘ Twas the night before Christmas 2020

‘ Twas the week before Christmas, and all through the state, Not a family was stirring, on Newsom’s mandate.

Our faces were glum, at laptops we’d stare At yet one more Zoom, the height of despair. Our leader, the Donald, was snuggled in bed Still dreaming of lawsuits, turning blue states to red, And I with my Lysol, and ma with her mask, Had just settled down with our take- out, and fl ask, When on CNN there arose such a clatter We turned off our Zooms to see what was the matter I found the remote; I fi rst tucked my robe in; Lest I be exposed, just like Jeff rey Tobin.

And there on the tube, as we both took a chug, Was newscaster Cuomo, and Congressman Doug.

“The moon” was the topic, of proof still to show, But he’d never been there. So how would he know?

‘ Twas painful to watch, the logic was hidin’, So we switched to Fox, and there was Joe Biden He said “Here’s the deal, I’ve got some new plans, “They’re called ‘ wear a mask,’ and ‘ please wash your hands.”

And when he was asked, “What’s new about that?”

He grew red with anger, this feisty old cat.

“Come on man!” he sneered, a real confronter, “I’ve laid out it all. And don’t ask about Hunter.”

The news was a dagger, more bad things to hear As we wondered what else could attack us this year.

From COVID to fi res, these 12 months so gruesome.

To cap it all off , here came Gavin Newsom.

His raspy voice roared; the rurals he chided He came to our fi re. ( But we weren’t invited.) He trespassed and sat on another man’s bench, He blamed climate change, his teeth in full clench.

But that wasn’t all that bothered our gov, ‘ Twas talk of a recall; he was losing the love.

The cases were rising; he was in quite a quand’ry He’d been busted big- time, out at the French Laundry With a dozen or more friends, showing resistance to Newsom’s own rule: “Be socially distanced.”

So he fought back with anger, said “I’ll shut it down,” With tiers red and purple ? the tiers of a clown?

We turned off the tube, and looked at the snow The fl ask it was empty, we’d nowhere to go We wondered who led us, and how we got there Trump said “it would vanish. Into the thin air.”

Instead nine months later, we’ve nowhere to fl ee We’re locked down at home ? or really, are we?

Some places are open. Some still won’t shut down.

In fact, there’s still respite at our end of town.

So we Ubered past closed shops, the ones they deemed dangers, Like hair shops, and gyms, and churches with mangers, We didn’t dare stop in the fresh- fallen snow, For one certain store was the right place to go.

And our night quickly gained a whole new potential Merry Christmas to all; at least beer is essential.

‘ Twas painful to watch, the logic was hidin’, So we switched to Fox, and there was Joe Biden He said “Here’s the deal, I’ve got some new plans, “They’re called ‘ wear a mask,’ and ‘ please wash your hands.”