‘Twas the Night Before Christmas, 80s Style

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Lots of records were spinning, even a Bauhaus.

The legwarmers hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that Nicholas Rhodes soon would be there;

New Wavers were nestled, snug in waterbeds,

While visions of Bubble Yum danced in their heads;

And mamma with her shoulder pads, and I in Gap,

Sang Do They Know It’s Christmas while we wrapped.

When out by the Beemer arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the gifts to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

And peeked out while the turntable played The Clash.

The New Moon on Monday shone on the fallen snow

Gave the lustre of neon to objects below,

When, what to my Naked Eyes should appear,

But a Smurf-sized sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

Driven by a Chauffeur, so lively and quick,

I knew in a nanosecond twas St. Nick.

More athletic than Jordan his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!


From Silicon Valley’s rise to the felled Berlin Wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

As snow, not cocaine, flurried Rocky Mountain high

Flying past ET’s rescue ship, up in the sky

So up to the house-top Santa and reindeers flew,

With the sleigh full of Game Boys, Cabbage Patch Kids too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

Over the bass boost, echoes of each little hoof.

As I looked at my Swatch watch, and turned down the sound,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed in Spandex, from his head to his foot,

And his plaid Doc Martens trod through ashes and soot

A bundle of epic toys flung on his back,

And he jammed to Last Christmas as he opened his pack.

His eyes — how they twinkled through red RayBans so merry!

His cheeks like Nena’s Red Balloons, blushed by sherry!

His lips pursed like Q-bert, as if saying “oh”

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

His red hat slipped, showing a peak underneath

Of a mohawk, encircling his head like a wreath;

He stopped just a moment to watch Alf on the telly,

When he laughed, he shook like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a rad, tubular elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Unlike Max Headroom, I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And 86’d a Jolt Cola and two hot cocoas

And signing Rock On, up the chimney he rose;

To his DeLorean sleigh powered by fissile

And away they all flew through time like a missile.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,