Uri Nicholai OBlitzen was born on the coldest day of the coldest winter of the Cold War. The son of a foxy Russian double-agent and an Irish-American singer-songwriter, Uri grew up in hiding in suburban Indiana until the age of six, when his mothers secret identity was found out she was mercilessly gunned down by the CIA while shopping at Washington Square Mall for Xmas presents. Using his singer-songwriters connections, which ran deep, Uris father smuggled him into hiding in a remote bunker in Northern Siberia, fearing both US and Russian retaliation; tragically, just after settling in the bunker he ate a bad can of French Onion Soup and bit it. Uri was left alone in the bunker, with nothing to keep him occupied but the Xmas records and decorations his father had brought for the season. He lived alone for fifteen years, surviving primarily on penguin meat and Earl Gray tea, until he was discovered by a team of naturalists, informed the Cold War was over, and taken to live with his only surviving relative, a senile great aunt in the Texas Hill Country.
Once back in the states, Uri undertook a number of short-lived professions, including a disastrous attempt at the marketing of penguin meat- which incidentally tastes like crap-, performing Christmas music every Saturday night at a bar called LaLas, and seasonal work as a holiday window decorator for a well-known major department store.
Sadly, Uri OBlitzen was recently discovered dead in his apartment, the hapless victim of a careless Christmas-light hanging accident. These songs were found among his scant personal affects.
The O'Blitzen legacy, such as it is, is overseen by Boris Illianovich "Tex" Vixenski, Esq. Mr Vixenski has been entrusted to release one Christmas song a year until the corpus of Uri O'Blitzen's work is depleted.
