Every family has their inside jokes. One of ours is the excuse we use when we are late to a gathering, are “overserved,” or wake up with a hangover. We are innocent victims of hospitality.
Last year, my son was home for the holidays, and his buddies happened to cruise by on a golf cart. They saw him in the yard and stopped, inviting him to join them. We had plans for dinner, but my son didn’t show. Later that night he arrived home fat and happy, sheepishly stammering, “Sorry, Mom, I was a victim of hospitality.”
We all know one. That friend who is terribly late — they stayed at that first stop a bit too long or “just couldn’t get away.” Or maybe we’ve been a victim once or twice. Heck, I’ve been a victim myself, especially on Blue Angel Saturday. Blue Jello shots? Don’t mind if I do. Home-made Tangbangers? How can you say no to a frozen beverage that reminds you of your childhood? Now where were we supposed to be for the show? Oops, we never made it there. When you are a victim of hospitality, sometimes the pre-game becomes the game.
I dated one once. He was always late. Or no-show Jones. Google that reference, ye young whippersnappers. George Jones was the quintessential victim of hospitality. Or was he just a drunk? Hmmm, it’s a fine line I suppose. But Tammy got tired of standing by her man, especially when he didn’t show up.
What is the origin story of our family inside joke, you ask? None other than a beloved Christmas album by the De Paur Chorus, called “Calypso Christmas.” Our favorite song is “Christmas Present for Sallie,” derived from Barbados folklore. According to the album liner notes:
“This is a sad, comic story of a man made ‘a victim of hospitality.’ Starting home on Christmas Eve with a present for his wife, Sallie, he is assailed by friends and relatives insisting he share their holiday spirits. In the course of drinking toasts to his wife and others, he loses the present, his wits and his Christmas Eve with Sallie. When Sallie catches up with him, she gives him twelve empty rum bottles around the head. But when he gets out of the hospital, he will buy her a new present and make the best of ‘a very bad situation.’”
We play this joyous album every year at Christmas and merrily join in the repetitive chorus – “…a very bad situation,” as Chauncey’s situation gets worse with each verse. The day started out so well for him yet ended badly. So relatable!
As a mom, it has always been my duty to teach the children well, just like the Crosby Stills Nash and Young song. So in addition to singing along to this song every Christmas, I made sure to play the Beatles Yellow Submarine and Napoleon Dynamite movies on repeat in the Honda minivan to make sure the kids grew up right. FYI, Ringo has all the good lines. Uncle Rico and Kip have some great ones too. My heart swells with pride when one of my dear children spits out a Ringo quote in a thick Liverpudlian accent. Alas, now I’ve given away all the secrets to good parenting.
