Greetings from the Gulf: December

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And to all a good night … and a bit of good grief, too

By John Morton

‘Twas the month before Christmas, and all through the isle

Free trees were everyone, just find a good pile

Keep that eggnog flowing, keep your guests on the sauce

And they’ll never know your tinsel is really Spanish moss

Deck the halls with boughs of palm fronds, it’s what we’re seein’

And busted pine cones for ornaments, thanks so much Ian

And instead of a stocking with a lump of coal

How about a visit soon after from his girlfriend Nicole?

Now Calle Miramar! Now Old Stickney! Now former Wells Fargo!

Prompting letters to Santa asking for a hotel embargo

And the lawsuits were filed at the county with care

In hopes that a man in a much different robe would soon be there

Sugar cookies were baked, plus brownies and fudge

Sent to the 12th Circuit Court to sweeten that judge

In hopes that he’ll tell Anderson, Dr. Gary, and Balot

That NO is the answer, not with gavel but mallet

Seeing as our community has its fair share of rifts

Let Siesta Sand Santa smooth things over with holiday gifts

Giving is what I do, I possess such propensity

Unless it’s something outrageous like unlimited density

Come on now, I know it’s the Christmas season

But I ask that you try to keep requests within reason

What’s that you say? This already took place?

Several on the naughty list are snickering with maniacal grins on their face?

Right or wrong, good or bad, it’s time we were with

A local on the county commission, my gift is Mark Smith

Time to please many others, and I’ll do it en masse

My sleigh arriving by dolphin through an open Midnight Pass

House of the Sun is first; so tell me, what’s the rub?

You say want a little musical revenge on the ol’ Crescent Club?

Allow me to book you a street-side guest to stop your wailin’

That’s right, a reservation for a resurrected Eddie Van Halen

Anna’s Deli, you say you still want your expansion?

Our reality show moved to Miami, so there’s room in the mansion

For Save Siesta Key, another year of waiting would sure be a pity

For a group of determined folks who want to be a city

So here’s what I’ll give you, before another potential painful vote

A yacht the size of a town and then set you afloat

Heck, the S.S.K. already sounds like the name of a boat

Complete with dinghies named Buchanan, Gregory and Robinson? I’ll make a note

For the anti-hotel folks, I sure hope this is legal

When I send down your chimney not me but Mark Spiegel

Mini-reef lovers, you’ll receive in your hanging sock

Jean Cannon’s one-woman rendition of “What’s up Dock?”

Not a creature is stirring, you say, not even a mouse?

Clearly you don’t live next door to people in an illegal hotel house

It is true that even for you folks my generosity does run a-plenty

But I’m not delivering Christmas Eve pizzas for one-hundred-and-twenty

At Gilligan’s I’ll bestow upon you rock n’ roll heaven

Go ahead and have live music playing 24/7

But let me just warn you, you don’t want to tick-off

A neighborhood so tough it survived eating Big Olaf

Even the bad guys get gifts, such as those who rob

Here’s a staple remover, now good luck at the SKOB

For the packs of riders who continue to make us scream “yikes!”

I’ve removed the beach ban on those electronic bikes

So crank ‘em all up to 40, and rest those weary feet

Oh, and sorry I forgot to mention I removed each and every seat

Speaking of gifts, would someone out there finally say

Who pulled the trigger on Memorial Day

Our favorite guys named Mike, I haven’t forgotten about you

No mediators, no lawyers, just a holiday dinner for two

For answers to problems, some dial 1-800-ASK-GARY

But may I suggest we look to the man here most merry?

No, that’s not me, I arrive but once a year oh-so nary

I’m talking about a photo bomber we love, and his name is Larry

Who else demonstrates such unconditional care?

Whether you want it or not, he’s always right there

Want proof of his generosity? OK, just ask it

He’s my only subject in history to send me a thank-you basket

If I missed anyone in error, getting past me a la Bill Buckner

Spare me a thorough investigation, telling neither Luckner nor Luckner

Oh, and to our fishy friends that don’t live on the land

May you continue to feel nice and snug, wrapped tight in the Siesta Sand

Fact is, dear friends, life on Siesta is low on trouble

Especially when you see those to the south dealing with rubble

As we know, it’s important whether we be Santa or elves

To count all our blessings and laugh at ourselves

And with that we bid adieu to the man they call Mort

Who hopes your Christmas is great, and that you are one heckuva sport

(John Morton is managing editor of Siesta Sand.)

John Morton
Author: John Morton

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