“Twas The Day After Christmas…” (Redux)

First off… Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Holidays whatever your choice of celebration… your friendly bartender wishes you nothing but the best. And a very Happy New Year!

Now before I begin with this week’s post, a re-post actually (with one or two edits) of something I wrote a few years ago, I thought I’d give you some background material with this one. A little history lesson to hopefully give it more meaning.

You’ve heard me speak in the past about the legend that is our bar and how the building itself goes back to the mid 1800’s, well long before it was stocked with bottles and the hushed word spread through the city that we were a speakeasy, this brownstone served as a residence for three different owners. And one such owner who called it home along with his socialite wife, Laura Williams, both of whom owned additional residences in Newport and Paris (though they definitely preferred their New York address at Christmas time), was an ex-major in the Civil War who shared the same given name as his famous grandfather. Who was Clement C. Moore. That’s right… THE Clement C. Moore who wrote “A Visit from St. Nicholas”, which is known more readily to most as “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas”. Pretty cool, huh? And as irony and history would have it, he wrote that poem for his grandchildren, one of whom was this guy… our former landlord!

So with that in mind and the meter of that poem, I offer this most humble spin-off straight out of Barland…

‘Twas the Day After Christmas

‘Twas the day after Christmas and all through the pub

Not a creature was stirring and there lay the rub.

The glasses were cleaned, all the fruit cut and peeled,

With hopes that a customer soon would need healed.

But history says they’re all snug in their beds

While visions of invoices dance in their heads.

“To go to a bar,” they might sadly lament,

“Is just what we need but we’re too overspent.”

So I in my apron and waiter with tray

Had just settled down for a long tip-less day.

When out on the street there arose such a clatter

I sprang from my post to see what was the matter.

There to the window I flew like a flash,

Threw back the shutters and pulled up the sash.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear…

Santa Claus seeking both solace and cheer.

But gestures were clumsy, not lively and quick,

I knew in a moment this can’t be St. Nick.

For here was a man who was still on a tear,

A department store Santa in nobody’s care.

I ushered him in, nonetheless, I dare say,

For under that costume a broken heart lay.

Yes here was man who had spent all his “cheer”,

To whom was left nothing but whiskey and beer.

A bartender knows this… the lonely man’s gaze,

It’s something he’s seen over too many days.

And drinking to hide it at this time of year

Does nothing but heighten the trace of a tear.

“So how about coffee?” I ventured with hope,

As he slid on the stool fairly struggling to cope.

“It’s not what I want I must tell you, alas,

But that’s what I need ’cause I’m drunk on my ass.”

Then coffee was served and a cup after that

As he told me his story right there as he sat.

For his was like many it’s too sad to say…

The orphan on Christmas and then the next day.

The story’s as old as the Yuletide itself,

Poor souls discarded and placed on a shelf.

Where these should be days where we reach for each other,

Claiming to all we are sister and brother,

We toss to the wind these most noble of notions,

Reaping instead needless stress and emotions.

But that’s what it is and that’s what we’ve wrought,

Now that our Christmas is paid for and bought.

So then when the coffee had managed its trick

I threw in some breakfast for ersatz St. Nick.

Grateful, he thanked me with words quick and clear,

For gone was that cloud and all signs of a tear.

And then with a wink and a nod of his head

He soon let me know I had nothing to dread.

He sprang to his feet, to a cab did give whistle,

Away he then flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim as he rode out of sight,

“I really was Santa at least for a night!”

See you next week-end, dear reader, have yourself a good one!

15 Responses to ““Twas The Day After Christmas…” (Redux)”


  1. 1 Lizi December 24, 2011 at 5:24 pm

    Consider the dropped infinitive duly noted – ‘needs healed’ sure sounds like Pittsburghese to me.

  2. 2 Samantha Joy December 24, 2011 at 8:27 pm

    *golf clap* Well done, sir!

  3. 3 Chris December 24, 2011 at 8:39 pm

    Merry Christmas Scrib and hopefully a better new year for us all.

  4. 4 mvpalex December 25, 2011 at 12:27 am

    It’s Christmas morning and,
    I feel just great.
    The presents are wrapped but
    will have to wait.
    I miss you pal and,
    wish you much cheer.
    Have a great day and,
    I’ll see you next year.

  5. 5 Marty Wombacher December 25, 2011 at 1:46 pm

    Love this post! Great work! Merry Christmas to you, Scribbler and to everyone else out there. And now…time to start some holiday cocktails!

  6. 6 Anonymoustache December 25, 2011 at 2:06 pm

    Simply superb!
    A very merry Christmas and happy new year to you, bro! Also, agree with Lizi — a classic Pittsburghese touch with “needs fixed”…

  7. 7 scribbler50 December 25, 2011 at 3:23 pm

    Lizi: Hadn’t noticed nor was it intentional buy if you say so then “Pittsburghese” it is. Wouldn’t be the first time. Thanks for your comment.

    Samantha Joy: “Golf clap”, I like that… very civilized. Thanks!

    Chris, Ditto, my friend, especially to a better new year!

    mvpalex: Beautifully done, Sir Alex, nice return serve! And you will see me next year when I stop in your bar. Soon!

    Marty: Knock ’em dead there, pal, and have a great holiday!

    Anonymoustache: Simply thanks! And the best to you and your family throughout the holidays.

  8. 8 Chris December 25, 2011 at 9:34 pm

    Hey Scrib if it makes you feel any better here in Kentucky it would have been “needs fixin”.

  9. 9 Pieter B (@DragonCalf) December 26, 2011 at 10:08 pm

    “Needs _____ed” is a classic Appalachian construction. My former boss, a West Virginian, used it.

    Scrib, may the New Year bring good news about the future of your fine establishment. Being served by you is on my bucket list. Sorry I haven’t been as regular as I have in the past; since a certain idiot didn’t notice my car stopped in front of him until the airbag deflated, my best friends have become a neurosurgeon and a pain-management specialist.

  10. 10 scribbler50 December 26, 2011 at 10:12 pm

    Pieter B: No need to apologize, I’m sorry for your troubles. And thanks for the good wished about our future.
    Happy New Year!

  11. 11 Irishirritant December 27, 2011 at 2:33 pm

    Peace on earth to barmen of good will. Slante.
    Thanks Scrib, with hope I say, see you next year.
    All the best.

  12. 12 scribbler50 December 28, 2011 at 12:52 am

    Irish: A fine sentiment, pal, and most appreciated.
    All the best to you as well.

  13. 13 physiobabe December 29, 2011 at 9:53 am

    Felice Anno Nuovo to you, dear Scrib. We’ll let this year go and drink to the future.

  14. 14 scribbler50 December 29, 2011 at 12:41 pm

    physiobabe: I’m with ya’, ‘babe”, let’s raise a glass to the New Year and beyond…
    Cheers!

  15. 15 chascpeterson January 1, 2012 at 1:13 pm

    ‘a customer soon would need healed.’

    Ha! Go Stillers!!!


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