At this festive time of year, it’s appropriate to reflect on the importance of generosity and selfless acts of kindness toward others. One of the most cherished carols repeated and repeated and repeated over and over and over again during the holiday season is of course “The Little Drummer Boy,” which touches on exactly these themes. Unfortunately many people, whether out of ignorance or sheer jackassery, totally misinterpret the message of this song as some kind of paean to the virtues of humble and spontaneous giftgiving. As closer analysis reveals, these people are of course fools.
As with so many other holiday traditions, the true origins of “The Little Drummer Boy” are lost in the mists of time. The most popular modern version is commonly attrributed to the Harry Simeone Chorale in 1958; however, many of its musical notes can be traced back to much older songs, and it remains possible that earlier versions of this carol actually predate Christianity or indeed humanity itself.
Regardless of its origins, certain details of the Little Drummer Boy myth remain constant across practically all cultures: A newlywed couple, turned away from an inn after a long journey, must instead seek shelter in a humble manger, at which point the wife gives birth to the Messiah. This recurring Jungian archetype appears independently within virtually all societies possessing manger technology.
Who is this “Little Drummer Boy?” The song never bothers to explain why a child would be wandering around the Palestinian countryside unattended in the middle of the night, let alone toting a drum around. What kind of parents let their kid roam about at night while pounding on a drum anyway? Clearly the LDB was the Biblical equivalent of the poorly supervised neighborhood brat who insists on pushing a Fisher Price Bubble Mower around at all hours.
Was he the son of someone at the inn, perhaps of the innkeeper himself? It seems plausible. Consider the situation: the innkeeper is clearly busy. His inn is already overbooked, and not only does he have to keep an eye on the regular guests, but now someone has given birth in his manger. Moreover, the manger couple are clearly trouble magnets; already they’ve attracted a trio of insane Gypsies and a crowd of mangy shepherds. As if this were not enough to worry about, a meteor or asteroid of some description is hovering ominously over the property, and that can’t be just coincidence.
What to do about it all? He’s already taken the couple’s money in good faith, so he can’t just boot them out. Besides, evicting the couple and their newborn child would draw unacceptable attention to his “house the pregnant woman in the manger” policy, which might adversely affect his inn’s reputation. But could there be a way to… somehow… encourage them to leave on their own? Of course! The kid with the drum! Encourage him to go out and give an impromptu performance in the manger! Brilliant!
One has to wonder at the wisdom of the so-called “Wise Men” that would heedlessly blurt out the whereabouts of the newborn Messiah to random strangers. What kind of wise men invite a drum-toting kid into a neonatal ward? Apparently it was only pure chance that other passersby with even worse “talents” didn’t hear of the blessed event, or else we’d have to endure carols about “The Little Kazooist Boy” or “The Little Boy Who Could Belch The Hebrew Alphabet.”
Interestingly, the song itself conspicuously betrays its own basic premise, since it is never accompanied soley by a drum. This is of course an implicit admission that a solo drum performance is not appropriate Christmas music by any standards.
Honestly, does it make any sense at all that a woman who has just delivered a child in a stable would be in any kind of mood to listen to a child give a drum solo? Granted, the lyrics state that:
Mary nodded, pa rum pum pum pum
–but this doesn’t necessarily indicate assent of any kind; it’s more likely that she simply lapsed into a state of exhausted semi-coma after her ordeal. Lucky for her that Dennis the Menace was right there with a drum to revive her!
Now, after all this, it would be at least something if the kid were even marginally skillful at his craft. However, the song is clear on this point:
The ox and lamb kept time, pa rum pum pum pum
It turns out that the boy is so wretchedly poor at drumming that he requires the aid of common farmyard animals to maintain a simple rhythm! And this is not even the most horrible aspect of the performance:
I played my drum for Him, pa rum pum pum pum
I played my best for Him, pa rum pum pum pum
Incredibly, the LDB chooses to honor the birth of Christ the Savior by covering the works of Pete Best. It’s hard to imagine a less appropriate choice, except perhaps for Peter Criss. Although some scholars speculate that the above lyrics may partially account for the traditionally held belief that Ringo Starr appeared at Bethlehem.
Then He smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum.
When reading the above, bear in mind that newborn infants generally exhibit no coordinated motor control and are not yet strong enough to lift their own heads unassisted. Yet the song asserts that the baby Jesus not only smiled, but smiled specifically at the LDB. It’s easy enough to visualize the significance of the scene. As the final echoes of the percussive din fade from the abused air, the infant writhes in Mary’s grasp, swivels its head around until its supernatural gaze is focused directly at the LDB, and then its lips twist in a grin that promises the everlasting torment of the Abyss.
The moral here is a simple one: Do not presume that a gift deserves to be appreciated just because it is freely given. The (implied) eternal damnation of the Little Drummer Boy stands as a stern warning to those who imagine that their ill-considered last-minute gift of a bargain bin “Greatest Country Christmas Hits” CD or box of stale Whitman’s chocolates somehow substitutes for a sincere gesture of holiday generosity. Above all, “The Little Drummer Boy” cautions against pa the danger of constant rum exposure to unsolicited, highly rum pum repetitive holiday music and the pum threat of pa rum pum pum total gibbering insanity.
May your holiday season bring peace on Earth and goodwill toward men. Pum.
