Tuesday Titter – The Christmas Series

Part one: the music that makes my soul nostalgic and my ass shake.

I was a prisoner in retail hell for the better part of a decade. This imprisonment caused emotional and physical scarring that is slowly starting to heal thanks to a rewarding new job and Culver’s butterscotch shakes. Now, Pallet-jacks and sharp box cutters can do some serious damage to your shins and fingers, but the damage that I am working the hardest to overcome is my disdain for the Christmas tune.

I am serious here people.

November 1st…nay October 31st would mark the beginning of the downward spiral into emotional scarring. When most regular human beings are putting away their Halloween decorations and going into a sugar coma, retail schlubs are busy putting finishing touches on displays of Christmas products that they actually started setting up a week prior. And to get them into the mood, the magical radio network begins the onslaught of music that has a holiday (much more P.C. than Christmas) flavor. It begins slowly at first, only playing on the hour. But, pretty soon it is nonstop Jingle Bells and Santa Baby – the Madonna version. Hearing this would start my body convulsing and I would yearn to curl up under a warm blanket stroking my cat’s fur until the pain subsided. This was all BEFORE Thanksgiving!

I have been on parole for nearly 4 years from that jail and with a lot of hard work, I am pleased to say that I am listening to the tunes of Christmas again. I am beginning to hear my favorite songs and not think of late night shelf stocking with odorous seasonal help. My thoughts do not automatically go to snotty, crying babies begging for a new toy. And I may even hum to them when I am listening to them in a retail setting.

"Well, in Whoville they say that the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day…"

Actually, I am not that saved. I still bitch and moan when I hear even a hint of Christmas music before Thanksgiving. I mean, what is with the radio stations playing the stuff in November? Also, if I am shopping for some bloody, vampire teeth in October, I better not see a lick of tinsel hanging next to them. But that is another thing altogether. We are focusing on music today… which, I have decided cannot start invading my space until December 1st.

December 1, 2007, was the day Queenie and I dug out the Christmas décor and unloaded the various snowmen and glitter-covered garb into our tiny apartment. I popped in a CD of Christmas carols that I picked up one year in a dollar bin. It was filled with the cheesiest renditions of standards by some local choir. It provided the perfect backdrop for our decorating and I didn’t once want to rip it out of my player and crush it.

I am healing.

I said this was a tittering post, so here are some of the tunes that make me giggle, reminisce and tear up…

I have this compilation CD called A Swingin’ Holiday. I love it. The best song hands down is Louis Armstrong’s Zat You Santa Claus?

All memories of hellish retail drown in the sea of his voice. Gravel-laden words of this genius they call Satchmo flood my insides and take my thoughts to Harlem in the 40’s. Did you hear how freakin’ poetic I just was? The man does that to me.

I couldn't find a good version of Zat you Santa Claus?, so I included this one instead. I think I may have a new fave...



I would be remiss if I didn’t mention those talented rodents that had me singing a couple dozen octaves too high about wanting a hoola-hoop.

Beaner, Queenie and I had this album and Christmas in the 80’s would not have been the same without our angelic (read: out of tune) voices butchering the lyrics right along with Alvin, Simon and Theodore.



And then there’s the 12 Days of Christmas. Actually I loathe this song. Well, not unless the Muppets sing it…



My absolute favorite Christmas song, however, is The Little Drummer Boy. I love any version of it…even Grandma Bonnie’s. Oh what I wouldn’t give to hear her off-key voice one last time. But I digress...sigh.

I am a pa rum pa pum pum-aholic. I am nothing if not a sap and the message of this song drums up (hee hee drums) memories of when we didn’t have a lot.

“Shall I play for him?” That is all… sniff… he… sniff… could… sniff, sniff… afford. He was a poor boy too for sobbing out loud! Oh, and when Mary nods pa rum pa pump um, I lose it.

Below is my favorite version. Bing, Bowie, old man sweater and clever banter. Nothing is better!