Where Do We Go When We All Fall Asleep at the Nutcracker?
A Jaunt Through December with Billie Eilish!
When we all fall asleep, where do we go? The Nutcracker. Strike that, reverse it. When we go to the Nutcracker, we all fall asleep.
It’s the 579th Act: your kids, snazzy in scratchy wool sweaters and high on Intermission Sprite, are bouncing up and down on their boosters. You have paid approximately one million dollars for these tickets. You are making holiday magic, dammit, but it’s so warm and the music is so endless and that man’s head in front of you is so big.
How did you get to this point?
Let’s back this shit up. To the beginning.
My name is Billie Eilish Pirate Baird O’Connell and I don’t believe in holidays or magic. I believe in vinyl records and eating acai plant-based food bowls. But I also believe that the day after Thanksgiving, you’re going to put that fake Evergreen up and get Santa to buy tickets to my concert for your 13-year-old daughter. So thanks.
On the 7th day of December, you’re going to keep your holiday card appointment with your family photographer. There’s nothing I can do to stop you. You’re either going to walk on a beach or stand on a mountain and no one will know about all the pain it took to get you there. Except me. Billie Eilish. I’ll know.
You could wear that cardigan and those slacks, but you should really wear something that goes against the very societal structures that put you there. Like that extra-large flannel shirt and those pajama pants you wore in 1993. Stop smiling. I’m serious. #dontsmileatme
And because you’re predictable and you’re still trying to make holiday magic, you’ll attend the school holiday concert on December 11th. You’re not at Coachella, lady. You’re in the back row of a sweaty gym recording a video that no one will ever watch. You’re wondering if the looks of happiness on everyone’s faces are real. Happiness is not real. Remember that. The only thing that’s real and true in December is watching “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” with Burl Ives at 2:00am.
On the 16th day of December, you’re going to attend the office holiday party. You say you don’t want to go, but you actually really want to go because the food is always really good and you can dress up. Who are you anyways? Here I am collaborating with Drake, trying to give an honest, ethereal voice to a generation, and you’re like the counter counter culture. You’re like, “Gimme some Prosecco and a prosciutto-wrapped date!”
And that brings us right here to row 27C at the Nutcracker. December 24th.
Wake up, lady. Hey! Wake up! I know I’ve been kind of harsh with you, especially when you actually figured out how to download my songs off of Spotify, but my dark psychological assessment of you might have been a little off the mark. Tomorrow’s the big day. Go get ’em, Tiger. Wipe that drool off your face and make holiday magic.
