Ho Ho Ho

The Jolly Green Giant is dead.
When last I saw him, you knew something was wrong.
His skin was no longer the deep emerald I remembered when growing up.
The cancer saw to that.
That was five years ago, before him and I dissapeared, politcal refugees fleeing for our lives to fight another day.
And now he is gone.

For as long as I can remember he had strode proudly through the heartland, this gentle giant, with his booming voice, reminding all of us to eat our vegatables.
To grow up big and strong like him.
Perhaps we ate them out of love for him.
Or maybe fear...he was, after all, a 30 foot tall green goliath.
I suppose we shall never know.

And what of the son he left behind?
Sprout, that jovial little man?
Fame came too quickly for Sprout, leading him into all the trappings of child stars.
Too many late nights in NYC fetish clubs, too many drugs, too little vegatables, the infamous sex video.
Was Sprout ever able to bridge the gap between his father and the large shadow he cast behind him?
Or did he hear about the giant's death through NPR and CNN like the rest of us.
It is time to become a man, little Sprout.
Your father left large footprints to fill...but we need you now.
Not as a replacement, for no giant could ever do that, but as a legacy.

The Jolly Green Giant is Dead!
Long live the Giant!

Ho ho ho...