Once My Looks Go, I've Got Nothing

     Point 1: There was a section of the library at Lincoln Elementary School that seemed like it was just for me. Not a section proper, cordoned off with a "Joey Marsilio Only" sign (wonderful though that would have been), but rather a number of books that I am fairly certain no one ever checked out but me. There was a book about the history of the werewolf, for example, that I probably read half a dozen times, and of course it was always on the shelf if I got a hankering to check it out, because who else is going to read something like that? Some other weirdo, probably, but I never met him or her.      Point 2: Largely due to my fascination with the supernatural that lead me to checking out the aforementioned werewolf book, I have always loved Halloween to an unreasonable degree. So much so, in fact, that anything even tangentially related to Halloween would grab my attention as a kid. Scarecrows? Pumpkins? Corn stalks? Sure, let's see what this is all about.

          It's October again, the leaves are changing colors, and if the latest Trader Joe's Fearless Flyer is any indication, people are really into pumpkin. Seriously, like 80% of that thing is ads for pumpkin-flavored foods. Now, this is cool with me, since I'm quite the squashophile myself. You may recall an article I wrote last year, about the release of the O.G. game-changing jack-o'-lantern carving book, Carve-O-Lantern (if you need a refresher, here's the link ). Seeing as how I just scratched the surface of the Carve-O-Lantern universe in that article, it's high time I wrote a follow-up where I can really give you the inside scoop on the product line. So, uh, here is that follow-up.      Indulge me for a moment in an extended simile: Carve-O-Lantern is like the popular trading card game Magic: The Gathering . It's true! Both are products that arrived on the scene relatively unheralded, only to become massive successes. Both are icons in their r

             He came in that night, same as any other. Sat down on that green stool in the corner, the one with the big tear right down the middle that exposes the white fluffy stuffing inside, wisps of it sticking out like the hair of an elderly clown. He likes that one stool in particular. Says it suits him.      “You made it just in time,” I said to him with a smile. “Fifteen minutes until the ball drops.” As ever, my smile was not returned.      “Just give me the usual,” he grunted, scratching the top of his head. “And spare me the ball talk.”      I grabbed a frosty pint glass from beneath the bar. As I raised it, tiny pinpoints of light twinkled along the surface, reflections from the multicolored Christmas lights still strewn around the bar. There was no point in taking them down until January at least; hell, I thought, I might just leave them up all year ‘round. Might brighten the place up. I filled the glass to the brim with the cheapest beer we had on tap, a bi

Let’s face it: Christmas is the 800 pound gorilla of holidays. All other celebrations and festivals bow before its merry might. Some time in mid-August, when the air is crisp and the aroma of gingerbread-scented tanning lotion fills the air, the Christmas decorations begin to pop up in the bowels of Michael’s and Big Lots, and by the time Halloween rolls around, said decorations have already surged forth to populate storefronts everywhere. Such is the power of Christmas, and every year reminders of it pop up just a bit earlier than the last. It thus stands to reason that this holiday juggernaut would have innumerable songs dedicated to it, glorious hymns to sign aloud while roasting a freshly slaughtered turkey, pheasant or goose. Today I would like to talk about a few Christmas songs that have caught my interest over the years due to the simple fact that their existence is, well, inexplicable. And I don’t mean songs like “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer,” that we’re all so fam