Guys, it’s almost the end of November, which means the Holiday season is creeping just around the corner. That’s right – in the words of Charlie Brown’s crew and/or the Vince Guaraldi Trio’s merry band of singing child-slaves, “Christmas time is (more or less) here, etc etc loo loo loo insert more words here (likely cheer or year but I’m not 100% sure)” As we all very well know (and by “we all” I mean everyone but a particularly curmudgeonly drama teacher I once had who became a whiskey-soaked recluse every year from December 24-January 2 without fail and thought it was chill to encourage his students to do the same/pity him/think he was a for reals tortured artist trapped in the banana-backed body of a high school theatre instructor, which was supposed to be cool I guess?), the holidays are about sharing joy and spreading cheer, especially to those who haven’t already become excruciatingly bored with such irritatingly intangible, upper-middle class concepts.
This year, instead of (or in addition to if you, like, don’t have any friends lol) volunteering your time at a shelter or food bank, have you considered making dreams come true by writing a thoughtful, appreciative letter to a “lesser” boy band member? And no, I’m not talking about your JC Chasez’s or even your Drew Lachey’s. These tidings of comfort and joy must be intended for those even less fortunate.
The act of charity I’m proposing doesn’t have to take much effort. It just takes a laptop, internet access and a little bit of heart, with a few little white lies sprinkled in for good measure. It doesn’t have to be a poem. If it is a poem, it doesn’t even have to rhyme. All that matters is that you spent the time. Ooh baby, ooh baby gurl. Maybe a little inspiration. Will help you with your declaration. Of luv. Of sweet, sweet luv guuuurrl. You know you got it. You know they want it. You know they need it, baby. Whydontcha give it, HUH!
To: Chris Kirkpatrick
A Christmas Song for Chris Kirkpatrick
Dear Chris Kirkpatrick
I’m assuming you’re Catholic?
If so, then, Merry Christmas.
I saw that sketch on SNL
Where they likened your hair to a pinapp-el
On their behalf, here’s an apology.
On second thought, that was the Emmys.
I’m pretty sure that was the Emmys.
Hey Chris, do you like to watch TV?
I hear your teeth are real shiny
Because when I Googled you that’s what autofilled
It came up right after your net worth
It said “Chris Kirkpatrick teeth shiny”
And I was like “I never noticed”
And I’m so sorry I never noticed
I can’t believe I missed those glistening diamonds
To tell you the truth I was too damn entranced
By your soulful baby blues
I believe that was the hue
Of those soulful baby blues
Oh shit that was JT
How stupid can I be?
…Either way, Merry Xmas and stay blessed CK.
To: Howie Dorough
Howie’s it going, buddy? Ah, I bet you get that a lot, don’t you? As you can tell, I’m no comedian – I’m just an ex-Backstreet Bandwagoner doing her best to wish you and yours a happy HOWIEday season. Okay, I get it – has anyone ever told you you’re real cute when you’re angry? Listen, I know you have a wife and have known since I remembered you existed and Googled your name about five minutes ago, but I just wanted to let you know that I watched that new BSB doc (confession: I pirated it. GUILTY!) and came to a realization that I never in my 26 years on this earth thought I would reach – of all the Boys, you may have actually been one of the more attractive. I know it sounds crazy, but when I saw Brian, AJ and Kevin’s faces, the spark just wasn’t there anymore. Nick, however, was still kinda working for me. And, I’ll admit, I never really cared for Kevin’s look. I mean, he was obviously just a little too old to be there. But you – I always wrote you off. Always. In my pre-pubescent years, I never mentally paired you up with Ginger or Sporty Spice, my two inexplicable favorites. Today, with your new haircut and an open heart (and eyes) on my end, I definitely would. Happy Holidays, Big D.
To: Justin Jeffre
I’ll be honest with you – I wasn’t sure if you (aka Guy With Bleached Hair And Van Dyke Situation From 98 Degrees) were named Jeff Timmons or Justin Jeffre. I had to look it up before taking a stab at this. I’ve been writing letters to a few of your fellow forgotten boy banders, but this will certainly be the most difficult of them all. To quote another, far younger and more relevant Justin, I must ask: “Where Are U Now?” Your absurdly short Wikipedia page says you ran for mayor of Cincinnati in 2005 but didn’t manage to usurp that coveted Cincinnati city hall throne. What happened? Where did you go wrong? Are you OK? Most importantly, how have you kept busy during the decade since then, besides reuniting with the boys for a negligible two-year stretch? Did you die, spiritually speaking? Do you still live, breathe, love, and loathe like the rest of us? How much do you hate those pesky Lachey brothers? Have you ever cursed their names? Do you have a hard time picturing any of Jeff Timmons’ features, despite having performed with him on 98’s The Package tour in 2012/13? Justin, I set out to send you a delightful and inspiring holiday message, but I suppose the real gift I’m offering you is help. If you ever need an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on or an average sized woman to lift like a barbell for comedic effect in some kind of “where are they now” photo spread, I’m here for you. Happy holidays and take care of yourself. Oh, and don’t let all those other Justins make you feel like less of one. You’re just a little different, that’s all. And different is mostly acceptable the majority of the time in some cases.