Battle of the Christmas Beatles!

Well, of course I've heard these songs before - many, many times - and I knew that Lennon, with his plaintive voice and aching idealism that was somehow never fulfilled, had written and recorded the classic War is Over. But I never put  Paul together with the Wonderful Christmas Time song, which I've always liked - it's innocent and happy and family-oriented, like Paul himself. 

So who wins? Depends on what you're listening for. And it brings home once again how each songwriter was infinitely better when they were together. They wrote songs "at" each other, ran them by the other, then defended criticisms and added suggestions, so that there was a true amalgam of genius. 

Separately, not so much: Paul kind of devolved into sweetness and easy domesticity, and John just got more and more weird under the influence of Yoko, who could be heard screaming and caterwauling in the background of his later songs. And freed from the stabilizing influence of Paul, his mother issues really sent him into a funk. 

But the songs they wrote together, or "at" each other, were beyond good. As Leonard Bernstein pointed out, they were pocket symphonies, miniature operas, the likes of which we'll never see in pop music again.

I'll listen to both of these this year, of course, but though Paul still walks among us, I will always miss John and be marked by how he died only three months after my brother Arthur, whom I still can't write about forty years later.

Eartha Kitt - Santa Baby (Official Audio)

It might be a BIT early for this, but not by much. How many versions have I heard of this Christmas classic by various female singers who almost ALWAYS turn it into a parody. Of what, I am not sure - Mae West, Betty Boop? It's always sung "campy", like a drag queen would do it (and this IS a favorite song of drag queens). Eartha Kitt nails it because she actually sings it very straight (I mean in the old-fashioned sense), letting her purring voice and clear enunciation of the delicious lyrics do the job. 

Favorite line: "Santa Baby, just one more little thing - a ring. I don't mean on the phone."  Whoever wrote this was a genius!

Guess who's coming to town?

It's a tradition at CTV News for the staff to get together for some carolling at Christmas time. I bootlegged a copy of this year's musical offering for my YouTube account (so let's hope they don't shut me down). 

And here it is - only the GOOD parts! I put together this gif compilation featuring my daughter Shannon (in purple sweater and green tinsel boa, on the right) with her group, the Christmas Chicks, reversing the frames in some places, and stringing all the super-short bits together. Did it take a long time? Could I email it to anyone, given the fact the file was so huge? Don't ask. Fun to make, though.

Cropped version. STILL too big!

The Twelve Gifs of. . . whatever. . .

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my Giphy gave to me. . .

Twelve drummers drumming

Eleven pipers piping

Ten lords a-leaping

Nine ladies dancing

Eight maids a-milking

Seven swans a-swimming

Six geese a-laying

FIVE GOLDEN RINGS

Four calling birds

Three French hens

Two turtle doves

And a hm hm-mm in a hm hmm.

EXPLANATION. You know that I explain myself far too often. Or I just think of something else and tack it on, in non-linear fashion. I started off by testing out my "new" (to me) Giphy program. It's really quite good and dead-easy to use, fast, and lets you use tenths of a second. They're also clearer and much larger, so you can post them original size. Big drawback, they're only half the length, but isn't it better to have a system that actually WORKS?

In testing it out, I must have been in a Freudian free-associating festive mood or something, as I wanted to see what a real turtle dove looked like. Then TWO turtle doves, and then, oh God. I was giffing them all over the place. And one thing led to another.

In most cases I have free-associated, and in nearly all cases I've been free with the numbers. I hate math anyway and am no good at it, still count by shooting my fingers and get lost after seven. My IQ is 143, which is not too shabby, though I guess it could be higher. It's just curious I can't count, is all.

So twelve drummers drumming get collapsed down into one. That's close enough, isn't it? I was going to try to get an image of Ringo at his drum kit, but then thought: Jesus, that's dumb and unimaginitive. So I ended up with one raw turkey drumstick, which is pretty festive when you think about it, especially when being rinsed under the tap.

Eleven pipers piping was at first going to be someone filling a hash pipe or a bong or something, but there were THOUSANDS of pot videos to choose from, all of them made by people who were extremely stoned. So it ended up being a piping bag, which is every bit as nice, don't you think?

Ten lords a-leaping. I cannot explain this one, except that "lords a-leaping" reminded me of Stephen Fry. I don't know if he leaps or not, but here he's getting jiggy while sitting in a chair. I love the psychedelic lighting, a nice touch.

Nine ladies dancing. The tango scene from the movie Frida seemed like a natural. Pretend there are nine of them if you're a stickler. I especially love Alfred Molina as Diego Rivera. He's perfect, and believable. Without him the whole movie would collapse under its own pretentions.

Eight, seven, six, five. . . 

Four calling birds might be a bit confusing. Forget the four, for one thing. Forget the calling. This is a BIRD, as in British bird, as in Twiggy. I was sick of birds anyway. In this whole song there are twenty-three birds, which is like twenty-two too many.

And the rest takes care of itself.

A perennial favorite

. . . featuring a local hippo.

http://members.shaw.ca/margaret_gunning/betterthanlife.htm

Tiny angels, Christmas angels

Oh my, oh my. Went to my granddaughter Erica's Christmas concert this afternoon - she appeared, grave and serious, in a gorgeous black-and-tartan dress worn several times by the girls in our family (a sort of heirloom now), singing Santa Claus is Coming to Town with graceful gestures that seemed almost Polynesian. She looked shockingly beautiful up there, and grown up.

So afterwards I went for coffee with my son's Mum-in-law, which I haven't for a while and enjoyed immensely. She insisted on giving us a beautiful potted poinsettia-and-white-flowers mix that will probably bloom lavishly in a day or two. Then came home to make chili, which I had planned to do yesterday and just ran out of time.

I don't enjoy cooking, even if I love the result, so I wondered what would make it go down better (besides that fizzy grapefruit drink I am so addicted to now, Dole Sparklers they're called). I thought, hmmm, let's put some Christmas music on! I haven't intentionally listened to a Christmas album yet this year. My hand just gravitated to Roger Whittaker, though my rational self was saying, "Margaret, NOT that sentimental old thing again."


Oh yes.

This was, in fact, a sort of test. I've tried to write about the spiritual meltdown I've experienced over the past several years, the fact that my entire belief system seems to have been blown to bits. Do I still believe in, well - God, or something like God?

Might it be a bit of a test to listen to this song, this song that always made me cry when my children were small?

This song that still made me cry last year? Was I so dried up, so hard-hearted, had I turned my face away from Love and Grace and all those things that used to hold my life together so much that my tears had turned as hard and crystalline as Lot's wife?

Friends, I cried. Did I cry! I bawled. It was wonderful, soul-rocking. I don't know what it is, perhaps just the way he sings it, and the deep truth of this: the only gifts that I could want are you. My darlings.

http://members.shaw.ca/margaret_gunning/betterthanlife.htm

Sing!