Fountains of Wayne provided their pop-rock Christmas hit (I don’t know if it was a hit) An Alien for Christmas in 2005. 5 years later I will ask the question long on the minds of hearing individuals everywhere: Why would anyone want an Alien for Christmas?
My first thoughts when examining this matter of national importance were littered with images of Arizona. With all of the hoopla involved in these legal battle of the states SB710 immigration reform bill, it’s easy to attach it to the God awful song. Of course, when you look at it logically (something I always do) this makes no sense. Immigration, while always a hot topic in America wasn’t nearly as a big of a deal in 2005. There would be no reason for Fountains of Wayne to bring up this political message. The only way this is possible is if the group can travel the rifts of time. I think we all know that the group is not and never has been capable of this advancement.
So considering this, I’ve come to the conclusion that the band has rocks for brains. This wish portrayed in the song is simply an awful wish. Aliens are a frightening crew and are not usually met with open arms (the exception being the always huggable, Alf). Even some of the adored space travelers aren’t all that great. Everyone fell in love with the little guy, but everyone also felt it best to ignore the rancid scent that the big headed curmdgeon gave off. Hell, Chewbacca, while loyal shed all over the place.
Looking at the examples above and acknowledging that there are countless more like them, it is clear to see that wanting an alien for Christmas is naive and incredibly detrimental to one’s life. Aliens aren’t meant for Christmas. They aren’t much for anything really. They’ll just make the neighbors peer through their blinds and make your house smell like a crowded dutch oven. It’s not worth the thrill of telling your friends that you got something that they’ll never themselves get. Seeing a Roman extraterrestial won’t make you any cooler. It’s a novelty at best.
And everyone knows getting a novel on Christmas is like getting a wet diaper at junior prom: Something fun only in theory.