When I was young, probably around four years old or so, my father designed some holiday cards and had them printed. He arranged 25 letters alphabetically, five by five, and sent them to his clients and colleagues. I thought it was the most clever idea in the world.
This was our last Christmas together at the house, in 2007.
And this was our first and only Christmas at my apartment, in 2005. We took things very seriously, as you can see.
Generally speaking, we had a good time together. I miss my dad a lot today, but I've enjoyed remembering past Christmases we've had. It's been a bittersweet day. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have important things to do, like slipping a fuzzy wreath collar on an unsuspecting dwarf cat.
This was our last Christmas together at the house, in 2007.
And this was our first and only Christmas at my apartment, in 2005. We took things very seriously, as you can see.
Generally speaking, we had a good time together. I miss my dad a lot today, but I've enjoyed remembering past Christmases we've had. It's been a bittersweet day. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have important things to do, like slipping a fuzzy wreath collar on an unsuspecting dwarf cat.
As promised, Christmas songs that I like.For a girl who spent her formative years being shuttled between Catholic and Methodist churches, liking religious-leaning Christmas songs is almost required. So! Hearing "Silent Night" makes me think of my grandfather, who liked to sing it in the original German. That's pretty much my favorite traditional Christmas carol. Oh, and I also like "Good King Wenceslas," and "We Three Kings" unless it's Blondie doing it. Tomorrow morning, I plan to surprise Betty with this version of "O Holy Night." She'll either say it's sacrilegious or she'll laugh until she cries. Let's hope for the latter result.
And with that out of the way — since you've just been waiting with bated breath — here are the not-so-churchy Christmas songs that I actually like. Special mention goes to the Dreidel song, which is a perennial Hanukkah favorite.
Embarrassing ones
George Michael clearly has not shed the baggage of his last relationship in Last Christmas. If he were really going to give his heart to someone special, he wouldn't be spending four minutes reminding his erstwhile love of last year's present. And you just know that the recipient of this message is wondering why this putzy rebound (who she dumped a year ago!) will not stop embarrassing himself in a futile attempt to stoke jealousy. And yet, I love the poppy synths and theatrical crooning.
But it gets worse. There is no excuse for enjoying Christmas Don't Be Late as much as I do. I am so ashamed. But every time I hear its woozy, waltzy first measures, I grin at the ludicrous thought of fat, greedy chipmunk children demanding toys. I always have to sing "me, I want a hula hoop." (Current scene point balance: -39,596)
Ones that aren't super-Christmasy but are nonetheless related to the holiday contextually
When River starts, you groan and think it's going to be a schmaltzy take on "Jingle Bells," but I suspect this would be a dangerous soundtrack if you had a whiskey in one hand, a phone in the other, and a lost love's phone number in your memory.
Next! Fred Thomas has one of the best smiles I've ever seen, and hearing him on This Time Every Year brings one to my face. If you pay more attention to the music than the lyrics, you might miss the alienation.
2000 Miles is a bit corny but I like its matter-of-fact melancholy. The Kinks' Father Christmas is a guilty power pop pleasure. (From the same year is this Leopards track, which has a bizarre little ragtimey piano hook.)
Soul and sadness
My love for Otis Redding knows no bounds, which is why sometimes I listen to Merry Christmas Baby in June. The James Brown Christmas album is pretty great all-around, especially because he doesn't schmaltz things up. My favorite track, Soulful Christmas has a killer bass line. If you don't want to dance when you hear this, you might as well be dead.
Or maybe your heart just feels dead. That's okay, I like sad-bastard Christmas songs, too. The older I get, the more emotional I am over the bleakness hiding in Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. (For my money, Judy's version is the only one that matters.)
Then we have the lonelyhearts. Jon Bon Jovi seems like a nice enough guy, but he can't hold a candle to the loneliness of Charles Brown's original Please Come Home For Christmas. (The way he says "please" kills me.) More upbeat but similarly themed is the lovely Darlene Love's Christmas (Baby Please Come Home). Continuing on with the alone-on-Christmas theme, we have Elvis Aaron Presley's Blue Christmas, which might be my favorite Elvis song.
Of the three brokenhearted singers, I assume Darlene Love would be the one to get her former lovah back, because she comes off as cheery and cute. Elvis sounds like he's feeling sorry for himself, but isn't going to push the issue too much. I kinda want Charles's ladyfriend to show up on his door, but he needs to work on looking more nonchalant about it. The whole "by New Year's night" thing makes him come off a little desperate.
So! That's most of the list. There are other decent ones that I don't mind, but these are the ones I actually like. Even so, it'll be nice to not hear them for another year.
I am not the only one in my family to feel Scroogey about this issue. Every time my father heard "The Little Drummer Boy," I thought he was going to pa rum pum pum pummel something. My mother, however, loves certain Christmas songs. She has a history of falling in love with an album, then playing it — and only it — for that holiday season. In my childhood, it was John Denver and the Muppets. Then it was the Barbra Streisand album. By far, the worst was These Are Special Times, featuring the vocal stylings of Celine Dion. On repeat. It is a wonder that nobody committed seppuku that year.
And so, my crabby ass brings you my top five worst Christmas songs. I'm not including obvious ones such as "Feliz Navidad" and "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer." Also out: modern pop-culture offenses along the lines of this Christmas Cash trash and the Lohan/Destiny's Child/My Chemical Romance pap. Too easy (and too much of it). Instead, these are the songs that stir a tiny sliver of repressed rage inside my soul. The ones that really drive me insane.
5. This version of Deck The Halls puts me into very mild panic if I can't get away from it. Literally, I feel my lungs tighten. It's that bad for me.
4. TIE! It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year / Happy Holiday. With the whoop-de-do and hickory dock? That makes no sense. Also, mistletoeing is not a word. It's back to remedial English for you, Andy Williams.
3. This Christmas, or as I like (hate) to sing it, "Theeeeeese Chreeesmusss." Something about the melody reminds me of farts, which would be fine if it didn't also make want to vomit. Only one unpleasant bodily function per song is allowed. Also, the video for Chris Brown's version takes on a menacing subtext considering his proclivity for beating women. In summary: We find Mr. Brown spying on some innocent family, stalking the daughter, and dancing in the street like a crazy person while they call the cops. Then he breaks into an orphanage, skulks around while on a hallucinogenic PCP bender, and creepily shushes the children until they hide under their covers. Haven't those kids suffered enough? Haven't we all? As my roommate put it, "Who does he think he is in that white suit, the fuckin' R. Kelly of Christmas?"
2. You'd think that they'd have learned from the run-run-reindeering that their father did back in the day, but no. Wendy and Carnie Wilson decided to unfurl the treacly Hey Santa upon us. The song's protagonist is waiting for her deadbeat beau to show up. She nags Santa about delivering this clearly uninterested man to her, and oh boy, it's a Christmas miracle! She's "underneath the mistletoe with my baby tonight." Immediately, the sisters begin chanting "slei-eigh ri-ide," which — due to my puerile sense of humor — makes me think that the proto-emo dork in the video has drawn them into a holiday-themed sex cult. And he's the sleigh.
1. Could this spot belong to anything other than Wonderful Christmastime? It's as though Paul McCartney looked at the success of "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)" — which, as a Vietnam protest song, really isn't about Christmas anyway — and thought, "Lennon will not outshine me! I need to get in on that!" It was not one of Macca's better endeavors. Though nearly universally reviled, it somehow manages to stay on holiday playlists year after year. Truly, it is the cockroach of Christmas songs.
Tomorrow: five holiday songs that I love, just to prove that I'm not a total grinch. (Until then, you can enjoy a free Michigan-y Christmas comp thanks in part to Mr. Kempa.)
Labels: christmas, crabbiness, music
