What can I tell you of Christmas that has not already passed through your smartphone, your TV set, or something called a Podcast?

All your favorite Christmas movies are running - it seems - 24 hours a day on channels I receive, but never watch. The TV yakkers on all sides are still trying to figure out why the presidential election went their way, or not.

Mostly, they search for a nugget of news that might, just might, urge viewers to click on their shows. For all their posturing on the right and the left, they work in a business that needs to attract eyeballs attached to wallets used to purchase the stuff peddled by advertisers who pay the bills.

Many of you remember the old days when newspapers were king. Our family, pre-TV, subscribed to three daily newspapers. In addition to the daily news, they had editorials telling us what to think and who to vote for, and columnists telling us the inside scoop - the alleged real story behind the news. They had a section labeled Women's Pages filled with society gossip, tips on fixing chicken, and useful household hints. I guess the editors in that day thought women didn't care about the other news, like the war, or if the mayor raised taxes or fixed the roads.

As a kid who sometimes passed these papers from the back of a hand-me-down bike, I glanced at the headlines as I pitched them on the customer’s porch. In the evening, my brother and I listened to our parents discuss the news of the world war and politics.

 On Sunday morning, when the folks might sleep in before church, it gave the brothers a chance to tear into the big paper, fattened with ads from department stores, movie theaters, auto dealers, and real estate offerings. But we were not looking for new clothes, the latest flick, a new car, or a new home. We wanted the funny papers.

The comics, in color no less. One of the comic strip characters was a detective named Dick Tracy. He caught the bad guys with help from a fanciful communication device tapped to his left wrist. It was called a wrist radio. Today, some 80 years later, I have one just like it strapped to my left wrist. It will do a lot more stuff than the fictional one used by Ace Detective Tracy. It tells me the weather, sports scores, and other stuff. It tells me when to stand up, and even call my kids and the EMTs if I fall and can’t get up.

But for all the stuff packaged into the way smarter than me watch, the electronics can’t replace the fun we had tearing through the Sunday funny papers as we caught up with Prince Valiant, Steve Canyon, Li’l Abner and Dagwood.

Our favorite comic strip was Walt Kelly’s Pogo, featuring cartoon characters who lived in a far-off swamp. For some reason, the animals seemed to mimic and comment on the events and characters of the daily news. The main character was Pogo Possum, who once found a bunch of trash in his swamp, looked at us, and said: “We have met the enemy and it is us.”

At Christmastime, Pogo and his pals, Albert the Alligator, a turtle named Churchy LaFemme, and a critter named Porkypine, would celebrate the season by singing their unique carols. Our folks loved them, too. Sometimes, Mom would play the piano and we would sing them together - laughing all the way.

Here is our all-time favorite. For the record, Walt Kelly stole the melody from the familiar carol: "Deck the Halls" with boughs of holly.

Here are the words from Pogo Possum and his pals. Oldsters will remember them. Those under 60 might not, but all can sing them and laugh.

Deck us all with Boston Charlie

Walla walla, Wash., an' Kalamazoo!

Nora's freezin' on the trolley

Swaller dollar cauliflower alley'garoo!

Don't we know archaic barrel

Lullaby lilla boy, Louisville Lou?

Trolley Molly don't love Harold

Boola boola Pensacoola hullabaloo!

There is more and, if you are so inclined, look it up.

From the Old Scribbler to readers of all ages: “Happy Christmas to all, and to all, a Good Night.”