Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Rudolph the Gray-Haired Reindeer

Remember those old Andy Williams TV Christmas specials? I can't say I do, as they're really relics of the late 60s and early 70s, and I am only 28. But I do remember the album covers of Andy Williams records from that era, complete with tacky theme sweaters. Pat Boone had a similar unfortunate holiday style -- his was the trademark white buck shoes.

My dad used to play those Pat Boone and Andy Williams records twice a year -- the day we set up our Christmas tree, and on the holiday itself. Even though we had several CD players, it was records he'd play on those days. Apparently to him, a sound that was old and scratchy, like Andy's sweaters themselves, was evocative of the season.

I've been thinking about old Christmas music these days, because our local adult top-40 radio station has gone to its all-Christmas music format. It struck me as peculiar that in the lead-up to Christmas, when kids ask Santa for Wiis, iPods, or other newfangled technological toys, this Christmas music is all really, really old.

ASCAP (American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers) says its most-performed Christmas song is Winter Wonderland, followed closely by Christmas Song (the one with the chestnuts roasting on an open fire) and Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. All of these songs were popular when my parents were my age.

So why aren't there new Christmas songs? I asked the morning radio DJ team that has to play this music non-stop for the next month, and the sweet-as-a-sugarplum female co-host chirped, "When you hear Burl Ives doing Holly Jolly Christmas, it just takes you right back to that time when you were watching Rudolph on TV, and eating cookies and milk."

She's certainly onto something. There is something comfortable and cozy about these songs. They're also so simplistic, they're easy to remember. If our national anthem was as singable as Jingle Bells, more Americans would certainly know the lyrics.

A where-is-he-now? performer named Billy Gilman and talk show loudmouth (she'd admit it, I'm sure) Rosie O'Donnell released a song a few years back called I'm Gonna Email Santa. Anyone able to hum that one?

Christmas music may last because it's handed down from adults. Before Christmas in schools became un-pc, teachers would encourage kids to recite holiday music. And the same traditions play out at home: A grandmother listens to Deck the Halls with her grandson, as dad sneaks extra rum into his egg nog, and mom strings popcorn and cranberries, privately wishing she had married that other high school suitor instead. This is music that bridges generations. Case in point -- my grandmother and I have never listened to Rihanna's Umbrella together, but we certainly have listened to Winter Wonderland.

The male half of that morning radio team pointed out "There is new Christmas music, performed by new stars, but they're recording old songs." The Kimberley Locke and Clay Aiken version of Silver Bells is a good example of that, but as their former taskmaster Randy "Dawg" Jackson would complain, "They really don't make it their own."

But those DJs believe the updates of old songs "help make new Christmas memories for today's kids and teenagers." Maybe one day, Kimberley Locke and Clay Aiken will seem as old to me as Brenda Lee now does. But their songs will surely still be familiar, as newer pop stars will also take part in this tradition of re-making old music.

Until then, I'm just glad Rihanna doesn't wear tacky Christmas sweaters and white buck shoes.

-- Jacktastic

Monday, November 24, 2008

...That's Good Enough for Me

Yesterday, I spoke with a very depressed friend. He just learned that his favorite cookies, a soft, buttery, jam-filled biscuit has been discontinued because the bakery, Archway foods, had filed for bankruptcy. Facing a serious void in his life, he has begun a quest to find the new, perfect cookie, a process that may take weeks, even months. As a starting place, I recommended the Pepperidge Farm Softbake Snickerdoodle, a staple evening snack in our house.

This discussion, in turn, spawned a longer conversation about the much-loved, googly-eyed, Seasame Street character Cookie Monster. There's a undeniable purity about CM. He has found the secret to life's true happiness and spends his days in a focused, uncluttered pursuit of chocolate chip ambrosia. He's eliminated the things in life that don't bring him joy. There's no drama with Cookie. He knows who he is, he knows what he wants, he goes out and gets it. Cookie's signature song says it all, "C is for Cookie... That's Good Enough for Me."

Although it may sound reductivist to say, there are so many days in which I could be so clear about my purpose, be intently focused on my desires, and live for hedonistic pleasures. This blog is a place and a way to share these thoughts and experiences beneath an umbrella.

A Note on Housekeeping
So friends & readers, you are invited to share your writing here. You need not feel any pressure to write "on topic," just add whatever this Cookie Monster ethos means to you. And yes, you can write about cookies. In fact, one of the rules of Cookie Monster blog is that writers must use sneak the word cookie into their post once. In order to keep the blog going, I think we should aim for one post a week. It's like a subscription. If you get inspired, put something together, and send it to me. I'll post the entries here once per week on Fridays. A whole new twist of TGIF.

If you'd like to write something, comment below/email me and I can give you permission to post your own entry / links / photos. Or, if you don't want to bother with the mechanics, email me your text and I'll post it for you. It's low-maintenance, low-commitment. First time bloggers are welcome!