On Sunday, December 14, 2008, an Iraqi journalist threw a pair of shoes at President George Bush. This had nothing to do with Middle-East politics. The Iraqi threw the footgear to protest that obnoxious jungle, "The Christmas Shoes". Apparently, disdain for this witless ditty is universal, and offends people of all religious persuasions.

Last week, I wrote about that song and how depressing and dopey it was. I mentioned that it fell into the category of "audio-kitsch". "Kitsch" (from the German for "kitchen") is defined as anything that's of poor quality and bad taste. A lot more meaningful is "Christmas in Heaven", the Las Vegas-style floor show song that ends Monty Python's The Meaning of Life movie.

There's an old song called "Blind Man in the Bleachers" that set the standard for audio-kitsch until the "Christmas Shoes" fiasco came along. The story of "Bleachers" is as vapid as they come. High school second-string football player sits on the bench for the whole season. His blind father sits in the stands at all the home games, listening to the play-by-play, hoping to hear about his son "getting in the game," because Dad just knows that his son will be a star.

Last game of the season, the blind man isn't there. The team's getting clobbered, and they keep taking injured players off the field. During half time, the kid gets a call, and in the second half, he goes in and he wins the game! After, the coach asks him what motivated him. The kid explains that his father passed away during the game and, "'It's the first time my father's seen me play.'"

This song raises all kinds of questions. If the blind man in the bleachers was so ill, why was his son playing football? Shouldn't he have been at the hospital? (The same goes for the kid in "Christmas Shoes".) Also, how could this have been the first time his dad's seen him play? It makes it sound like Dad has only heard him play. But, he hasn't been in a game all season! Where's the logic?

If it was so important to the father, couldn't a friend have taken him into a room with sound effects of a crowd and a fake play-by-play and told him that his son was in the game and playing great? I mean, the guy was blind! He'd never know where he was, anyway.

Not to mention, if the kid wanted to give his dad a treat, wouldn't an expensive bottle of Johnny Walker Black - or a lap-dance at the local strip club - have been more meaningful to a man who couldn't see? I'm just asking.

I know what you're thinking; "It's real easy to criticize - why don't you write a sentimental Christmas song?" I'm glad you asked. I just did, and here it is:

Four three-legged kittens,
Were sleeping on the couch,
It was Christmas Eve, and Ma was sick,
All she could say was, "Ouch!"

Papa, he was working late,
And Grandma, she had gas,
All she could do was mumble,
Her teeth were in a glass.

Sister had a blister,
And Grandpa, he was worse,
He couldn't find his whiskey,
So all he did was curse.

The puppies in the pantry,
All had the Asian flu,
Their babies, they had rabies,
They had a toothache, too.

Then Santa came and brought us luck,
He stepped across our transom,
We tied him up and gagged him good,
And held Fat Boy for ransom.

Getting back to "Christmas Shoes", "Blind Man" shares two tear-jerking clichés with "Shoes." That would be an incurable disease (in this case, blindness), and "passing away". Playing football is important, too. Too bad the Christmas shoes didn't have cleats.

Another thing about those Christmas shoes; why was it so important to have them? If the mom was so near death, then she was probably bed-ridden, so what does she need shoes for?

This thing was a TV movie, which - God forbid - I haven't seen scheduled on any stations this year. It makes me wonder what other writers would have done with this material. For example, what would the writers of Sex and the City have done with it?

For starters, they would have used the adjective, "fabulous" in every other sentence. I see Carrie standing in line at Saks or Macy's with the dirty kid in front of her trying to buy the shoes.

"Please, sir, I need to buy these Christmas shoes for my Mommy, who could be going to meet St. Peter any time now."

"I'm sorry, kid," says the clerk, "but you don't have enough money."

Carrie steps in to save the day. "I'll pay for those shoes! But, honey, those are Bruno Cavellis. They're so OJ!"

The kid looks confused as Carrie continues, "What you want are the Jimmy Chu shoes over here. See? Your Mom'll look fabulous! Stiletto heels, 'FM' ankle straps."

"But -"

"You know what would be really totally stupendous? I'm going to buy your Mom that martini shaker set over there!" And she does. Then, Carrie steers the kid out to Thirty-Fourth Street and into a liquor store.

"Get me that big bottle of Grey Goose, and a bottle of triple-sec. Have you any dietetic cranberry juice? Fabulous! Put it on my tab!"

They hail a cab, and Carrie takes the kid to the hospital, which is staffed by the doctors from Grey's Anatomy. (No wonder Mom can't get better.) Mom passes on after her third cocktail.

Hey! I like it! They can call it, "The Christmas Cosmo".