T’was the night before Christmas, 37 years ere
Down in Dunwoody, Georgia, where the snowfall is rare
Though winter’d not visit, despite the townspeople’s behest
Santa did bring a gift to the family Seacrest
Into the world sprung young Ryan on that Christmas Eve
Knowing then not a lick of the mark he would leave
A boy of small stature, but smile so wide
He’d set out to become his town’s Christmas pride
He’d perform from the get-go, at home and at school
He even made radio — all thanks to his yule
But what he couldn’t know then was a truth harsh and terse:
Ryan’s Christmastime birthday would be a Christmastime curse
Young Seacrest would soon come to leave his Southern neighborhood
To bring wintery magic to the great Hollywood
But though he was his suburb’s own holiday icon, no doubt
Seacrest would contend with the big guns from there on out
Santa’s the true pride of Christmas, a figure so spectacular
Jesus as well, but let’s keep it secular
How could Ryan compete with a man so revered?
He didn’t have flying reindeer, could not grow a beard
But Seacrest would never be outdone by St. Nick
He’d take every job — yeah, that’d do the trick
He’d join up with Fox to host American Idol
But this wasn’t enough to earn him his desired title
So more jobs he’d gather, through more boundaries he’d tear
Though some were short lived, like American Juniors and On-Air
Still, he’d not quit — in himself, he believed
And soon, he’d be rocking many a New Years Eve
He’d visit Red Carpets, correspond with Today
Produce 15 shows for his old pal Kim K
And still, Seacrest was not safe from the occasional bashing
Like Joel McHale’s jabs, or Sacha Baron Cohen’s ashing
But even with celebrity snark making his journey tough
So many jokes about him and his love, Julianne Hough
Seacrest keeps smiling, keeps taking new roles
Bringing joy and entertainment to innumerable souls
So perhaps we were wrong (though saying that makes us miffed)
Maybe his Christmastime birth is no curse, but a gift
For it charged him to be a Santa all his own
Delivering yearlong merriment to American homes
A more ambitious young man you’re not likely to find
Next time you’re mocking his height, just keep that in mind
So at this time of year, we think of our friend Ryan
Who has made it to age 37 (no thanks to the Mayans)
And as we close our poem now, we’ve one last thing to say:
Merry Christmas to all — and to Seacrest, Happy Birthday.
[Photo Credit: Twitter]
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