(This was written for Holidailies.)

Sad and melancholy songs have their place in December as much as any “holly jolly” one. Here are a few.

And here are some tears for an entirely different reason.

Probably related:

• December 25, 2011 -- Christmas Day Stuffs
• December 24, 2011 -- Christmas Eve Stuffs
• December 22, 2011 -- Merry Yule!

(This was written for Holidailies.)

Most of these Holidailies entries feature a video that is only tangentially related. In this entry’s case, it is more directly related.

My parents participated nearly yearly in the Community Christmas Choir, a amateur volunteer choir of nearly 100 people who could (at least somewhat) carry a tune, and practiced weekly from September through December, performing for three nights some mid-December weekend, raising money for some nonprofit cause that benefited the homeless and victimized in the community.

My sister and I were often dragged along during their practice sessions, sitting in the high school’s cafeteria-gym and trying to amuse ourselves quietly while the adults sang their songs, over and over. Homework was not possible with the lights out in the gym. My sister and I would often take a nap, or play with a couple other kids who were also dragged along. Only once did my sister and I get so rambunctious that we needed to be yelled at to stop the noise. The rest of the time, we may or may not have run around in circles and ellipses, but at least we kept it down to a low roar. The choir director didn’t seem to much like children.

Anyway, the linked number is one my parents performed in the early 80s, in the years before I was old enough to care about such things as lyrics, and paying attention. The song always intrigued me because there was a silly part in which a man would sing off-key and obnoxiously, and to which the other choir members couldn’t help laughing.

I’ve rarely heard it performed since.

Every December, I hum it to myself, not remembering the lyrics and trying desperately to remember even one word so that I could Google it. Yesterday, the words “monotone angel” came to mind and I cursed that I was on my way to work instead of in front of the computer so that I could find the lyrics and watch the video right away. I texted myself a note to remember later.

Sometimes I wish my parents would let me transfer to digital format the old cassette tapes made of each years’ performance. Periodically through the years I’ve had an interest in listening to them again. Especially this song.

Probably related:

• December 25, 2011 -- Christmas Day Stuffs
• December 24, 2011 -- Christmas Eve Stuffs
• December 22, 2011 -- Merry Yule!

(This was written for Holidailies.)

This entry is inspired by the comparatively large quantity of caffeine I’ve been ingesting lately. I’m a fan of latte art–the practice of making something fanciful and hipsterish not-mainstream out of coffee and cream. I was a cake decorator for a few years after high school, and perfected this pattern in jelly and frosting using nothing but a toothpick; I am fairly sure that doing latte art wouldn’t be much more difficult, if I could only figure out the secrets of pouring the hot milk without disturbing the surface of the espresso with the act.

Anyway, here’s some winter-themed latte art:

Probably related:

• December 25, 2011 -- Christmas Day Stuffs
• December 24, 2011 -- Christmas Eve Stuffs
• December 22, 2011 -- Merry Yule!

(This was written for Holidailies.)

A house guest, who stayed with us over the holidays a couple of years ago, mentioned more than a couple of times that he wished we had some white Christmas lights to string around our living room. Imagine his surprise when I pulled a couple of strings of unused lights I’d gotten from my place of employment the previous year but hadn’t used, all the same warm off-white, and told him to go nuts. He strung them up almost immediately, and used them even after the holidays as a source of alternate illumination, a warm suffused glow rather than the stark spotlight of the ceiling fan. When he left several months later, I urged him to take the strands of lights with him. “I’ll get more,” I said flippantly. “Please, I know you enjoyed these.” He was thankful for the housewarming gift.

I kinda want to do that again. I still have a few strands of lights that I could use.

I really, really want to have a tree, even a miniature one, for the living room window, just for the novelty of it. I think the cat is mature enough to leave it alone. I mentally looked forward to finding a free one on Craigslist, or a cheap one at one of the tree farms near here. Perhaps a live one, so that we can continue to enjoy it, and perhaps use it for subsequent winters.

It doesn’t look like it will happen this year. The car we were given spends more time parked in our spot, or at the mechanic’s, than we’ve had occasion to drive it. It’s disheartening, and is currently out of service again. At this point, my husband and I are considering giving it back and just going without. The car is costing us more than if we had purchased one outright from a dealer or another owner.

There’s always next year, and I know that at some point in our combined futures, we’ll have such a decoration. I just wish things had come together to enjoy it this year. Bah humbug. :)

Now, if I could get my ex to send me a box of ornaments my mother had given me almost two decades ago… le sigh, I don’t think I’ll ever see those again.

Probably related:

• December 25, 2011 -- Christmas Day Stuffs
• December 24, 2011 -- Christmas Eve Stuffs
• December 22, 2011 -- Merry Yule!

(This was written for Holidailies.)

So, I heard this on the radio a few years ago, and like most songs, I gave it a listen. It being a holiday-themed song, I knew it’d get a lot of airplay forevermore during each December just because it mentions the word “Christmas” in there.

I’m on the fence whether it’s an okay song or a bad song (very very few songs make it to my arbitrary and fickle “good” category), but it’s certainly a poignant one.

Stuff’s happened over the years that I’m not going to get into, silly stuff that eventually happens to most adults, decisions that alter life as one knows it and all that.

But I will say that the winter in which I was 30 years old, weighed heavily on me. I was facing my first set of major holidays away from my family, plucked out of everything I knew, in a city I barely knew, with a friend I’d just met. It was devastating, for some bizarre reason. I let my family and few friends know my mailing address, a post office box I’d saved up money for just so that they’d have somewhere to write to, if they had any inclination to do such. Apparently, such an inclination never came up, for my mailbox was empty, no matter how many times I checked it.

I felt such loneliness as I had never really experienced up until then. If I had received one card, one letter, one postcard, even one email, I don’t think it would have affected me so strongly. For some reason I was hung up on the idea that nobody cared enough to bother. They knew how to reach me, and chose not to. That’s not to say that I didn’t reach out to others; I bought a book of stamps and a box of stationery, and I wrote dozens of letters to people I had addresses for.

Not one reply.

Christmas came, and went, and ceased to ever be of such importance to me again.

My husband, and our social circle, celebrates the solstice instead. We mark the time of year, and gather together to pool resources, warmth, and comradery. That means something to me. I avoid talking about or thinking of December 24-25 except as That Holiday, a generic day that means something to others, not so much to me.

Following that lonely time, I’ve had occasion to spend it with family here and there. It’s awkward, and nobody talks about the Time I Wasn’t There. Nobody’s ever asked what I experienced then, or what happened, or how bad it was. It, and I, am the white elephant in the room.

I think, with the friends I have around me now, that I can connect with the linked song. Not in the same words, but perhaps a ghost of the same sentiment.

I don’t mean to be vague, there are things not meant for a public forum, things that have been written about years before that I don’t need to revisit, for I’ve put all of that away. You might glean that the intense emotions remain, somewhat, not quite a whisper but not nearly as devastating anymore.

I am glad that I have something to connect me to life, and love, and others, and I am grateful for that connection, whatever its form, or label, or sentiment.

This is a bit of a nonsensical entry. Ah well.

Probably related:

• December 25, 2011 -- Christmas Day Stuffs
• December 24, 2011 -- Christmas Eve Stuffs
• December 22, 2011 -- Merry Yule!

(This was written for Holidailies.)

I frickin’ love the idea of “The Orphans’ Thanksgiving”, defined by foodaphilia thusly: “Most of us live too far from our families to be able to visit them, so I’m happy we’re all getting together to share a meal on a day that is about being with those you love.” Basically, for those single people (and childless couples) who work on a major holiday, and/or do not live close enough to family to make a trip, or don’t have transportation to get over the river and through the woods, one household in a social circle will host a dinner for all the wayward “orphans”, usually friends or friends-of-friends who want the stereotypical homecooked meal of turkey and stuffing, and to not be alone on this day.

My husband and I were invited to at least three different gatherings last month; we only chose to dine alone (together) because we knew we would be tired of people after eight hours of retail, and wanted a quiet evening at home. One of these years, I’ll get to host such a meal for friends when we have the adequate living space for such. But I did buy a turkey, and we had stuffing, mashed potatoes, and a plethera of other side dishes shared just between the two of us. The tasty leftovers lasted for a few days.

There’s a “solstice” gathering this weekend, and sadly (or perhaps not), hubby and I both have shifts that end way after the gathering ends. I let the hostess know that we appreciated the invitation and that we’d be looking for such a gathering closer to New Year’s, which she was totally happy to support–my seasonal work will be over and we’ll both have much more bandwidth for social stuff.

I absolutely love that people have identified us as orphans, and have extended invitations so that we need not be alone on major holidays unless we choose to be.

I matched this entry with this video because one’s holiday meal might not be the stereotypical Norman Rockwell painting of one’s mind’s eye. But if you’re lucky, you can get a reasonable faximile, and perhaps something even better.

‘Tis the season to make due, and be thankful for what you do achieve and have.

Probably related:

• December 25, 2011 -- Christmas Day Stuffs
• December 24, 2011 -- Christmas Eve Stuffs
• December 22, 2011 -- Merry Yule!

(This was written for Holidailies.)

I’ve been plowing through the original Law & Order series now that it’s available on Netflix. I was amused to see how they note the changing of the seasons, during the course of their original run; the detectives are shown buying coffee and wearing heavy coats during winter months, commenting on the heat and discomfort of an urban summer. (I’m also amused that some of their guest actors for earlier episodes become permanent fixtures in later seasons, but that’s another entry.)

I thought I’d mention a few of the specials and repeats on TV that have been regular features in my life.

White Christmas, starring Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye, among others, was a movie that my mom watched whenever it was on cable. I didn’t understand the supposed emotional impact of the scene, “We’ll Follow the Old Man (Wherever He Wants to Go)” when I was really young; I got it later.

This was also fun:

I gotta say, though, we always fast-foward past the Beatnik number.

Another movie that was inevitably run at some point during the holidays was The Sound of Music, which has nothing at all to do with the holidays other than the von Trapp family walking across the Alps at the close of the movie.

Here’s a clip for the heck of it:

This was another movie I didn’t grasp the intricacies of until I was older. I knew who the Fuhrer was and what World War II had been about, of course, but I didn’t realize the part that the character Captain Georg von Trapp was to play in Germany if he and his family didn’t escape into exile as dramatized in the movie.

I have no idea why the TBS Network thinks a 24 hour marathon of this next movie is necessary, but A Christmas Story also got a lot of play on our TV. My dad especially liked the part about the exotic Italian lamp. And, perhaps not so strangely, there was occasion to reenact the flagpole scene at some point in my youth (not me, a classmate), firetrucks and all. Who knew that the phenomenon is real?

And finally, the one movie my dad uncharacteristically insisted we watch at the end of each year, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. I’ve made mention of the Griswolds in previous entries, in connection with obnoxious Christmas displays. But my dad’s favorite part is the one where a rubber hose is mentioned. I think he laughed a bit too fiendishly at the thought of beating up his boss with one. Anyhoo…

Here’s an ode to Cousin/Uncle Eddie, the black sheep that most families have at least one of:

Probably related:

• December 25, 2011 -- Christmas Day Stuffs
• December 24, 2011 -- Christmas Eve Stuffs
• December 22, 2011 -- Merry Yule!