Some of the boys from the Heintz plant, at the Green Parrot, Christmas Eve 1962
Not for us the liberal fascism of the war on Christmas. Hell no! And so to mark this hallowed season we interrupt our regular programming to present a long-lost classic poem by Arnold Schnabel, first published in the Christmas 1962 number of the Olney Times.
Do we see some indication here of the mental breakdown Arnold suffered not a month later? You be the judge.
“Christmas Eve in Olney”
It’s Christmas Eve, the factories are closed,
The boys from Heintz and Budd and Tastykake*
Are free, the Proctor & Schwartz crew have hosed
Themselves down and gone home, each lad to take
Out his one good suit from off the Sears rack,
A crisp white shirt with tab collar from Krass
A thin dark tie, Thom McAn shoes of black;
Splash some Old Spice, then off to Midnight Mass;
But first a brief stop, but just for the one
At the Green Parrot, the Huddle, or Pat’s,
And perhaps also a shot, one and done,
Make it Four Roses, and backed with a Blatz;
Five to midnight, we have time for one more --
Who would dare bar us from Helena’s door?
*"Nobody bakes a cake as tasty as a Tastykake." -- Editor
Happy holidays, everyone! The editor of this site will be visiting family by the South Jersey shore all next week, in a land where computers and the internets are still but a rumor, but feel free to keep those comments and e-mails coming, and we should be back with brand-new programming by next Saturday.
Remember, that last shot of the night is never a good idea!
(Check the right hand column of this page for listings of links to many other fine poems by Arnold Schnabel, as well as to our exclusive ongoing serialization of his classic Schaefer Award-winning memoir Railroad Train to Heaven.)