Babies and
batteries don’t mix

by RAF KATIGBAK

Musical holiday cards may be popular this season, but officials at the Montreal Children’s Hospital warn parents the cards may also pose a threat to young children. Batteries can easily be ripped off a card by young children, who are often tempted to swallow them or put them in their noses or ears, officials said.
Source: CBC News

When I read this story on the CBC website, I went through a range of emotions. First I laughed, mostly because the idea of kids putting stupid shit in their faces is funny. Not only do I find the idea of walking into a room and seeing a tubby little kid with a guilty look on his face and a muffled version of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” coming from his left nostril utterly hilarious, I am reminded of how, in sixth grade, I heard that Steve McCready’s kid sister Jenny—who would literally eat anything—was sick for three days, then pooped out what amounted to 12 cents in pennies and a thimble, all of which she had discovered between the brown velour cushions of her parents’ couch.

Then, after my laughter at the expense of hapless children subsided, I got severely and utterly bummed. Not because laughing at a defenseless kid is mean. In fact, until I have a child, I feel it’s my duty to talk shit to toddlers precisely because they’re defenseless. It’s like when I yell at my cats to get up off the sofa because their “litter is not going to clean its-fucking-self.” Sure it’s mean, but it makes me laugh.

And no, after reading the article, I didn’t get depressed because of the serious health risks swallowing batteries pose to a child, like chest infections and hearing loss. But rather, I got depressed that the article actually existed. I mean, what does it say about us, as a modern, supposedly evolved species, that we have to warn the general public, “Babies should not eat small electronic devices.” I really don’t want to believe that there is a single parent out there that might read this and go, “Hmmmm, you know Martha, maybe we shouldn’t let little Bobby munch on the insides of that broken calculator?” But, according to the article, “3,000 children are reported to have swallowed batteries every year in the United States.” Granted, it’s the U.S., the same country where more people believe in the devil than Darwin (I’m not talking about an abstract notion of evil, I’m talking a literal devil: like, some dude all in red, with a pointy moustache and spiky tail and a pokey stick that pokes you because you were a bad person and he’s totally, totally for real), but still.

Then my third feeling after reading the article was anger. Anger because the report totally missed the other reason why musical Christmas cards are dangerous. The real reason. The most deadliest reason: it’s the music. Not just the ear-piercing quality of the bleepy-bleeps that sounds like a cheap Casio watch straining to the tune of “We Wish you a Merry Christmas,” but rather the Christmas music itself. I know, I’ve been on about this before, but every year I find it harder to get away from the maddening sound of holiday tunes.

It’s just that a saccharine sweet soundtrack for the most stressful time of year drives me mental. I swear, if I hear another R&B versions of “Frosty the Snowman” or that part in “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,” when Mariah Carey hits that high part that only bats can hear, I’m going to knock down a bell ringer like that Grinch in northwestern Ohio a couple of weeks ago.

Why does Christmas music have to be so cheerful and insipid? This is not a glorious time of year; shit is getting cold, and the public has been whipped into a stressful gift-buying frenzy, spending tons of money that most don’t have on stuff other people don’t want. Instead, I want to hear music that really captures the mood of the season. Consider this my Christmas wish: A Very Danzig Christmas.

Original frontman for seminal horrorpunk band the Misfits, and winner of “guy most likely to become Wolverine if a surgical procedure existed to graft retractable claws onto human hands,” Glenn Danzig does his own crooner-tinged metal versions of popular holiday tunes. I can hear it now. Songs like: “I’m Dreaming of a Black Christmas” or “Santa Was a Martian.” Of course he’d also include hits for all denominations like “Mattathias Had Five Sons (That Turned Into Zombies)” or “Spinning Dreidle (Made From Your Skull)” and his trademark yell can be heard all over the anthemic “Kwanzaaaaaaaaaaa!” That would be merry, indeed.

RIFF-RAFF@SYMPATICO.CA