A Nightmare After Christmas
Christmas is not so ever yet that, last night, in my dream, I was auditioning for a slot in a reality show for aspiring artists singing Silver Bells. As soon as I was done my piece, one of the judges, who was clad in a black Santa Claus costume, behind him children disguised as reindeers, requested that I repeat a few lines from the song twenty times before he would decide if I got the slot. Obliged, I sang beautifully, as the other judge in pink angel costume would comment later, the following lines twenty times:
Children laughing, people passing, meeting smile after smile, and in every street corner you hear ...
The pink angel, speaking in behalf of the judges, surprised me with her final comment: “Nice costume, beautiful interpretation … you get the last slot.” Ecstatic, I leaped from the stage and ran toward the judges, who were about to wrap up, to give each of them a hug. As soon as I landed from that leap, a number of tiny silver bells fell from my costume. Hitting the floor, the bells chimed simultaneous eerie sounds similar to those emanating from wind chimes that we usually hang on doors or windows. Irritated, the judges who had just got out of their costumes, ordered that I pick up every bell that littered on the floor within 30 seconds or they would give my slot to someone else. At that point, I became aware that there were still so many aspiring contestants still not leaving the very long queue, each cursing me and wishing that I’d fail to pick all those bells in 30 seconds. In chorus, the ladies and gentlemen in the queue sang the same line from my audition song in an arrangement that look like that of a requiem’s, though faster. They too were instructed to sing the same line from Silver Bells twenty times in 30 seconds so the slot be declared open again should I fail to clean the mess. To my delight, the children in reindeer costumes started to help me pick up bells while the ladies and gentlemen in the queue protested. Some of them even left the queue, pulled the children away from the mess, and accidentally tore the children’s costumes in the attempt. The ripped costumes revealed a horrible sight that would stop the bells from chiming and the chorus from singing. With jaws dropped, the judges froze. The children - some with deformed bodies or incomplete limbs, some with almost protruding eyes, some almost reduced to skeleton - were completely and silently absorbed in picking up those tiny silver bells. The scene could be a perfect picture of an unadulterated innocence. I, too, was petrified and remained in what could be a new yoga posture, dropping two or three of the tiny bells I already picked up, which surprisingly didn’t create a sound.
I heard one of the judges whispered to the other judge in tactless irony, “Children of paradise.”
As soon one of the children picked the last of the bells, they all disappeared into the light that briefly enveloped the room. It dimmed after a short while.
Waking up, I chuckled. “A nightmare after Christmas,” I told myself. Shortly, the final episode reminded of the Thalidomide children.
Let me give you a briefer about it.
The Thalidomide children were those children born with tragic and serious physical defects, e.g., deformed limbs and malformed internal organs. This tragedy, which occurred in 1957 - 1961, was evidently traced by an Australian obstetrician to the prescription drug Thalidomide, which was marketed as a sedative and nausea control for morning sickness associated with pregnant women. This catastrophic drug had many faces in different countries, having such commercial names as: Talimol and Kevadon in Canada and US; Verdil in Brazil; Softenon in Belgium, Finland, Ireland, Spain and Germany; Asmaval and Valgraine in Australia, Ghana, New Zealand, Great Britain and West Africa; Poli-Gripan in Hong Kong and Malayasia; and, Glutanon and Isomin in Japan. Fortunately, the drug was never distributed in the Philippines. The drug was pulled from the market in 1961.
I can’t describe here how these poor children looked like. Just explore the net.
Trivia:
This unfortunate episode in 20th century medicine was mentioned in the lyrics of Billy Joel’s 1989 Grammy-nominated hit We Didn’t Start The Fire: Lebanon, Charles de Gaulle, California baseball / Starkweather homicide, Children of Thalidomide
Children laughing, people passing, meeting smile after smile, and in every street corner you hear ...
The pink angel, speaking in behalf of the judges, surprised me with her final comment: “Nice costume, beautiful interpretation … you get the last slot.” Ecstatic, I leaped from the stage and ran toward the judges, who were about to wrap up, to give each of them a hug. As soon as I landed from that leap, a number of tiny silver bells fell from my costume. Hitting the floor, the bells chimed simultaneous eerie sounds similar to those emanating from wind chimes that we usually hang on doors or windows. Irritated, the judges who had just got out of their costumes, ordered that I pick up every bell that littered on the floor within 30 seconds or they would give my slot to someone else. At that point, I became aware that there were still so many aspiring contestants still not leaving the very long queue, each cursing me and wishing that I’d fail to pick all those bells in 30 seconds. In chorus, the ladies and gentlemen in the queue sang the same line from my audition song in an arrangement that look like that of a requiem’s, though faster. They too were instructed to sing the same line from Silver Bells twenty times in 30 seconds so the slot be declared open again should I fail to clean the mess. To my delight, the children in reindeer costumes started to help me pick up bells while the ladies and gentlemen in the queue protested. Some of them even left the queue, pulled the children away from the mess, and accidentally tore the children’s costumes in the attempt. The ripped costumes revealed a horrible sight that would stop the bells from chiming and the chorus from singing. With jaws dropped, the judges froze. The children - some with deformed bodies or incomplete limbs, some with almost protruding eyes, some almost reduced to skeleton - were completely and silently absorbed in picking up those tiny silver bells. The scene could be a perfect picture of an unadulterated innocence. I, too, was petrified and remained in what could be a new yoga posture, dropping two or three of the tiny bells I already picked up, which surprisingly didn’t create a sound.
I heard one of the judges whispered to the other judge in tactless irony, “Children of paradise.”
As soon one of the children picked the last of the bells, they all disappeared into the light that briefly enveloped the room. It dimmed after a short while.
Waking up, I chuckled. “A nightmare after Christmas,” I told myself. Shortly, the final episode reminded of the Thalidomide children.
Let me give you a briefer about it.
The Thalidomide children were those children born with tragic and serious physical defects, e.g., deformed limbs and malformed internal organs. This tragedy, which occurred in 1957 - 1961, was evidently traced by an Australian obstetrician to the prescription drug Thalidomide, which was marketed as a sedative and nausea control for morning sickness associated with pregnant women. This catastrophic drug had many faces in different countries, having such commercial names as: Talimol and Kevadon in Canada and US; Verdil in Brazil; Softenon in Belgium, Finland, Ireland, Spain and Germany; Asmaval and Valgraine in Australia, Ghana, New Zealand, Great Britain and West Africa; Poli-Gripan in Hong Kong and Malayasia; and, Glutanon and Isomin in Japan. Fortunately, the drug was never distributed in the Philippines. The drug was pulled from the market in 1961.
I can’t describe here how these poor children looked like. Just explore the net.
Trivia:
This unfortunate episode in 20th century medicine was mentioned in the lyrics of Billy Joel’s 1989 Grammy-nominated hit We Didn’t Start The Fire: Lebanon, Charles de Gaulle, California baseball / Starkweather homicide, Children of Thalidomide
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