A Conspiratorial Christmas | Diving Into Two of the Strangest Holiday Tunes
What comes to mind when you imagine Christmas? For me, I see fir trees, decorations, twinkling lights, Macy’s in New York City, wrapped gifts, and sweaters. I smell fir balsam, a busy kitchen baking, the sharp New England air, and the scent of glowing family room fires. I feel giddy and warm, sentimental and appreciative. And what do I hear? Christmas music. Obviously.
The airwaves flood with Christmas music during the weeks leading up to “Jesus’ birthday.” Big box stores fill shoppers’ ears with the season’s tunes. The Christmas canon is huge. We have created hundreds of individual Christmas carols and thousands of classic covers. We listen to and dearly love the classics. But how often do we stop and really listen to the songs and their lyrics? We probably know the words. We might even sing along. But how many of us think about what they really mean?
Below, I’ve analyzed the lyrics of two Christmas songs that have less-than-festive undertones, hidden meanings, and a twisted holiday spirit.
Elmo & Patsy “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer”
Definitely one of the most famous nontraditional Christmas carols, the title of “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer” suggests a simple cause of death, but its lyrics open the door to conjecture and conspiracy. The entire song is a festive deposition from the perspective of one of grandma’s grandchildren. The child begins the story with his recollection of the events on Christmas Eve. I’ll get to my take later on, but first, let’s look at the evidence we’re presented and investigate this Christmas crime. (Cue the Law & Order intro.)
As we all know, two people on the crime scene truly believe grandma got run over by a reindeer: the narrator (grandchild) and grandpa. We know the rest of the family, and possibly others, doubt such a conclusion because, as the song goes, “You can say there’s no such thing as Santa / but as for me and grandpa we believe.” We are not given the opinions of others, like mom, dad, sibling, or neighbor. But, again, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
According to the record, grandma had been drinking. And, as the intoxicated do, she was up for a bit of an adventure on Christmas Eve. She decided to walk home, in the snow, and grab her pills. However, granny did not reach the medicine cabinet. On Christmas morning, the family awoke to grandma lying dead in the snow with “hoof-prints on her forehead / and incriminating Claus marks on her back.”
A detective would take note of the evidence presented here. For starters, we have an elderly person with a high BAC (and who knows what kind of pills grandma was walking home to take) who most likely died of hypothermia after passing out and spending the entire night in the snow. How, then, does one explain the hoof-prints and “Claus marks”? Maybe the song is right: it was Santa. Or maybe it was someone dressed like him…
The next verse explains grandpa’s disposition the next day. One would think, upon receiving a deceased wife for Christmas, grandpa would be a little shocked, stunned, paralyzed. Maybe he would act erratically, unconsciously. Grieving takes many different forms, so it’s hard to fault grandpa for acting the way he did on Christmas morning. Whatever the reason, grandpa’s behavior on Christmas morning is a little suspicious.
As the narrator describes, grandpa took the news of his wife’s death in stride. He continued drinking beer, watching football, and playing cards. Grandpa’s Christmas morning had virtually no hiccups, save the fact that he, and the family, dressed in black to mourn their loss. If grandpa was dealing with denial, his stoicism could be explained away. But, if we look at the cause of death, things point toward more malicious reasons behind grandpa’s demeanor, especially since grandpa and the child are the only two who steadfastly believe grandma got run over by a reindeer.
As the carol continues, the narrator wonders whether the family should open grandma’s gifts, since she no longer has any use for them, or send them back. What a morbid thing to think. Imagine that: you die on Christmas Eve and on Christmas morning, your family, instead of making arrangements for your service or inquiring into the cause of death, spends time and energy debating what to do with your unopened gifts. It can be concluded that grandma’s life is viewed as inferior to the gifts under the tree. If it were not, the rest of the song would explore her death and the range of emotions the family feels which, I understand, would make for a macabre Christmas carol.
The song ends with Christmas dinner, the table covered with dishes and decorations. The blue and silver candles are compared to the color of grandma’s wig; again, a pretty disturbing thing to think immediately after someone’s death. Maybe it’s the narrator dealing with grief — they see things that remind them of grandma and make note of it. But, for the detective, again, it’s something interesting to consider.
The song concludes with the narrator warning neighbors and friends about the reckless driving of Santa Claus. Though we do not hear their responses, we are able to draw some conclusions about what they probably think of this whole mess.
Okay. Now that everything has been laid out for you, let’s take a look at what most likely happened. As we know, grandpa and the grandchild believe that grandma was run over by Santa and his reindeer. If it were really Santa, why was he flying so close to the ground? Doesn’t he land on the roofs of houses? And, after he ran over a woman, why was he touching her? What sort of “Claus” marks were these? I believe the evidence suggests otherwise. As previously mentioned, grandma was drunk and wandering home, in the snow. It is most logical to believe that grandma died of hypothermia. But what about the hoof-prints and “Claus” marks? Things just don’t add up. And this is where it gets conspiratorial.
It is very possible that grandma was murdered. And there are a few ways it could have happened. We know that grandma drunkenly left the house to retrieve her pills. But what if she was not really going for her pills? It is possible that grandpa was sent after grandma as part of an annual holiday ploy by the parents. Shortly after the grandparents leave, “Santa Claus,” or one of his '“helpers,” aka grandpa in costume, shows up at the house and gives presents to the grandchildren, as happens at many houses on Christmas Eve. Both grandma and grandpa were in on the plan. Grandma left with an excuse. And grandpa followed in his car, the popular 1974 Ford Mustang, where the Santa outfit was stored.
But after grandma helped grandpa dress up as St. Nick, he attacked her. Why? Grandpa was sick of her. It is easy to imagine why grandpa would want to rid himself of a (probably) verbally abusive alcoholic and pill-popping spouse. I am not justifying his murder nor am I condoning it. I am simply saying that this motive is imaginable. Marriage is a bitch.
Upon returning and after he had played Santa, the parents would have inquired about grandma’s whereabouts. Grandpa lied and said that she was still walking, headed home to get her medicine. In reality, however, she was face down in the snow, croaked, dirty grandma diaper and all. This would have explained the “Claus marks” on her back (since grandpa attacked grandma in the Santa suit) and grandpa’s disposition the next morning (why would he act surprised if he knew what happened?). This story also explains the hooves — an intentionally misleading statement. Grandpa ran over grandma with his car, his Mustang (a horse), to finish the job. The hoof prints were actually tire marks across grandma’s face. This theory explains those interesting pieces of evidence — but where does the boy come into all of this?
The next morning, upon finding grandma, the family tried to hide the brutal murder to save the boy from associating Christmas with a seriously traumatic event. Grandpa played a big role in gaslighting his grandchild — he convinced him that Santa and his reindeer were the real murderers by explaining, in a sly way, the “Claus marks” and “hoof prints” on grandma. It is unlikely that the grandchild saw grandma’s corpse, thus providing grandpa with the perfect opportunity to continue impressing his version of the story upon his grandchild. Without a body to examine, a naive grandchild trusted his grandpa. This would explain why only two people in the whole house — grandpa and the grandchild — truly believe, or claim to believe, that grandma got run over by a reindeer. Grandpa used the Santa excuse as a psychological tool to remove himself from the guilt and the grandchild bought into the story.
Elementary, my dear Watson!
Though all of this is conjecture and conspiracy, grandma’s death is undoubtedly less light-hearted and festive as the record would like us to believe. It is most likely that grandma died after drunkenly wandering home to get her pills (probably some old people pills, like Vicodin) and passing out. In this theory, grandpa is innocent. However, even if this is the truth, some things still remain unanswered. If it was hypothermia, why would the boy believe that grandma was run over by Santa and his reindeer? Simple. That’s what the family told him. To keep the Christmas myth alive, they lied. And no one in the family supported the Santa theory more than grandpa. His fervor was probably a part of his grieving process. By pointing the finger at someone else, the guilt of failing to save her from the cold wanes. Though this theory is probably the most true, at least in terms of grandma’s cause of death, it leaves a few questions unanswered.
What about the hoof prints and Claus marks? It is possible that they were never there. This might have been part of the lie that grandpa and the family told to convince the child that Santa’s reindeer killed grandma. And what about grandpa’s behavior the next morning?
That one has two possible answers: the stages of grief and marriage. For the former, grandpa lacked an intense reaction because he was still in shock, as previously proposed. For the latter, as we are told, marriage is a strain. Grandpa was relieved that his wife passed away. He was sick of the drunken episodes and pill-popping. As morbid as it sounds, “til death do us part” often becomes a goal in several decades-long marriages.
In sum, grandma died in one of two ways: hypothermia (essentially her own doing) or at the hand of another. In the former, the case is closed. In the latter, there is a murderer on the loose. Grandpa needs to be questioned to determine his role in this whole mess. But, if we are to believe the lyrics of the song at face value, there is an immortal, jolly, fat felon roaming free, one who commits manslaughter and flees the crime scene in the name of Christmas.
“Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer” remains one of the more comical Christmas carols. But packed inside the record is a tale of manslaughter or murder, gaslighting, a cover up, utter denial, and possible conspiracy. We may never know what really happened to grandma. But we do know, thanks to this song, that she won’t be around to celebrate this Christmas.
Augie Rios “Ol’ Fatso”
By far the lesser known of the two, Augie Rios’ “Ol’ Fatso” is an aggressive verbal attack on the actual existence of Santa and his reindeer. Though I applaud the boy's skepticism and unwavering confidence in his “proof,” he certainly could have gone about accosting Santa in a more respectful and humble way. I don’t think he’ll be on Santa’s “Nice List” any time soon…
You can tell from the title that this record is far from the endearing and adoring ode to the “ol’ fatso” we are used to. This record is the most hostile Christmas carol I have ever come across. It doesn’t take much time or thought to realize the song’s message, but I thought it important to analyze the lyrics nonetheless.
The record begins with the chorus: a young man yelling at Santa Claus.
“Don’t care who you are Ol’ Fatso / Get those reindeer off the roof … / No you can’t fool me because / There ain’t no Santa Claus / There ain’t no Santa Claus and I got proof”
Right off the bat, this festive tune takes the listener by surprise, especially if it's thrown into a classic holiday playlist. It’s a bit jarring when the shuffle goes from Silver Bells to Ol’ Fatso. The first verse, performed by a clearly older male, introduces this little skeptic. He tells the tale of how the young boy responds to Santa landing on his roof one Christmas eve.
The second verse describes the following year. Santa returns with a large bag full of toys for “a dozen little boys” — all for little Augie. We’ll gloss over the fact that corporate America continues to profit off of cultural appropriation (one of the toys was “a whole Apache tribe”). Again, the little boy leans out his window and before he shouts the chorus, he yells “Oh no! I ain’t taking no bribes.” The verse’s last line gives the audience a glimpse into the mind of this young man. Clearly, he believes that Santa tries to grease the palms of young non-believers. He tries to curry favor, convert skeptics. If we are to believe this, then the whole idea of “naughty or nice” flies right out the window. Santa doesn’t care about what you’ve done — he just wants you to believe, to gain another follower, to up his numbers (it reminds me of a certain powerful church, which will remain nameless, but I digress).
Even after Santa brought Augie enough toys for a youth basketball team, instead of expressing gratitude or, at the very least, engaging in a discussion about the existence of Kris Kringle, without skipping a beat, he calls Santa corrupt. Even in the face of an enticing bribe, little Augie sticks to his gut instinct and refuses to concede. I can’t help but applaud him. He’s clearly one self-disciplined and determined young man. Kudos, Augie.
The third verse describes the third year Santa comes around to Augie’s house. Unlike the previous two years, this time Santa returned to the neighborhood with toys for every boy and girl, save “a certain unbelieving boy”: little Augie. The boy’s voice then enters the verse and finishes it with the moral of the story: “If you don’t believe in Santa Claus, he won’t believe in you.”
The song then cuts to a new version of the chorus. Augie is now singing:
“Don’t care who you are young fellow / keep those reindeer on the roof… / Oh you fool no one because / there is a Santa Claus / there is a Santa Claus and I got proof”
Now, there are two ways to interpret this alternative chorus, but only one right way (hint: it’s my way). My mom believes that this chorus is Augie’s concession. She thinks that after Santa skipped over him that Christmas, he caves in to the fat man and finally admits that he exists. If this were to be the case, if Augie finally admitted that Santa is real, why, then, would he name the song “Ol’ Fatso”? No matter how much you believe in Santa, I can guarantee he doesn’t appreciate being called that. Not so endearing, is it? Furthermore, after all of Augie’s determination, would he really concede after one year of missing presents? Remember, he turned down a dozen or so presents in verse two. Why would missing a single gift all of a sudden flip his world upside down in favor of Santa? It wouldn’t. A preposterous proposition.
Unlike my mom, I believe that the alternative chorus is sung by Augie, from the perspective of Santa. Augie is making a mockery of Santa and his morals. If you listen closely, you can hear a difference in the way he sings. The normal chorus has a smooth, obviously young tone. The voice in the alternative chorus, though still Augie’s, quivers intentionally. This is his exaggerated impression of Santa. It’s satirical. It’s yet another attack. Augie is not backing down. Instead, he is ramping up his verbal abuse.
The last bit of the song creates a satisfactory conclusion and reaffirms the notion that Santa Claus does indeed exist (despite the fact that we are not presented with proof from either side of the debate). But it does not solve the young boy’s situation. We know that there was “proof” presented to him earlier in the song. He heard the reindeer. He knew Santa had arrived, for two consecutive years, with gifts. However, both times he stuck to his beliefs and continued to call Santa a fraud. But does he believe in Santa now?
At the end of the song, it is still unclear. Although he may have learned a lesson (“if you don’t believe in Santa Claus, he won’t believe in you”), we do not know if he actually changed his position in regard to the existence of Santa Claus. If the first few verses are any indication, I believe little Augie is still cursing from his window, every Christmas Eve, up toward whoever is damaging the architectural integrity of the roof.
I think of the proposition of believing in Santa Claus, particularly in this song, along the lines of Pascal’s Wager. Substitute Santa Claus for God and tweak some of the consequences (namely “receive no presents” and “receive presents”), and you come to the same conclusion. It’s better to believe in Santa, regardless of his actual existence. If you believe and he does not exist, you receive no presents. If you believe and he does exist, you receive presents. But if you do not believe, like little Augie, it does not matter if Santa is real or not; either way, you receive no presents. The odds are in favor of believing in Santa Claus, especially if your goal is to find your name on as many gifts as possible under the tree on Christmas morning. Maybe this Christmas carol would have gone in a different direction had little Augie been exposed to Pascal’s Wager.
But this logical function operates on the assumption that receiving as many gifts as possible is indeed the goal. I would argue that gifts were not little Augie’s goal. If he was merely after presents, he would have accepted Santa’s bribe in verse two. Instead, he remained confident in his beliefs and continued to deny the existence of Santa. Therefore, it appears that the boy’s ultimate goal, in this case, coincides with the philosopher’s existential purpose: the quest for truth. You have to give it to him. He held an unwavering and tremendous amount of confidence and conviction. At a young age, he had the gall to question the notion his peers readily, and blindly, accept: Santa Claus is real. It’s impressive. It’s revolutionary. Even from a small glimpse into the mind of this young man, you can tell that he is on to something and destined for great things.
I’m not here to argue for or against the idea of Santa Claus. I’ll leave that for you to decide. But the boy’s stance, in “Ol’ Fatso,” is undeniably clear. And it certainly makes for an unorthodox Christmas carol. Who knew the holiday season included such relentless adolescent skepticism?