Deconstructing Christmas

Overall, I have mostly come to terms with Christmas music.  No, I really, REALLY don't want to hear it for a solid 6 weeks every year, but I admit that it makes the sometimes-tedious task of wrapping gifts a bit more fun.  Plus, my baby son seems to like it when I dance to Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer for him.

I prefer the sacred songs to the secular ones, but I find there is one thing that many Christmas songs, regardless of origin, have in common.

Incredibly.  Ridiculous.  Lyrics.  Weird word choices.  Creepy phrases.

Please, allow me to explain in the form of a top ten list (in no particular order).

#10. Winter Wonderland: Later on, we'll conspire / As we dream by the fire / To face unafraid / The plans that we've made / Walking in a winter wonderland.  What kind of plans were you making that you have to note you're unafraid to follow through on them?  I mean, are we talking going skiing on a too-steep slope or an attempt at world domination here?

Image from christmas-kid.com.

#9: Do You Hear What I Hear? A child, a child shivers in the cold / Let us bring Him silver and gold / Let us bring Him silver and gold.  No.  Just no.  The thought is mighty sweet, Your Highness, but the Holy Child could use a nice wool blanket, or maybe some crocheted booties instead.  Thanks.

#8: Away in a Manger: The little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes. Yes, Jesus was God made flesh, but that does NOT mean he was too sweet and angelic to cry.  As a new mom, I can say the chances were really good that little Lord Jesus cried when He was hungry and cried when He was wet and cried when He was tired...it's the human aspect of Him and all.

#7: Little Drummer Boy: Mary nodded / Pa rum pum pum pum.  In the same vein as the above, Mary's a teenage mom, but she isn't stupid.  If her baby just fell asleep, your rat-a-tat-tatting on the drum is not going to be a welcome gift, Ringo.

#6: Little Saint Nick: Christmas comes this time each year.  I love you, Beach Boys.  Really.  You're among my very favorite bands.  But this is akin to saying "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer is a reindeer with a red nose."  Guys.  Come on.

#5. The Most Wonderful Time of the Year: There'll be scary ghost stories / And tales of the glories / Of Christmases long, long ago.  I never understood this.  Why would you tell ghost stories on Christmas?  Wrong holiday, right?  I don't get it, either. 

Image from mashable.com

#4. Santa Claus is Coming to Town: He sees you when you're sleeping / He knows when you're awake / He knows when you've been bad or good / So be good for goodness sake! This pretty much attributes divine characteristics to Santa.  I'm conservative and according to most folks, a "religious person", so in my opinion, only God himself gets to claim these talents.  So it's a no-go for me.

#3. Frosty the Snowman: Frosty the Snowman / Knew the sun was hot that day / So he said, "Let's run / And have some fun / Now before I melt away."  Hot sun + running = melting even faster.  Basic science, Frosty.  You might be magical, but you're not the brightest crayon in the box.

#2. Last Christmas: I keep my distance/ But you still catch my eye / Tell me baby, do you recognize me / Well, it's been a year; it doesn't surprise me.  Okay, let me get this.  You were passionately in love, gave your heart away, and don't think your lover would recognize you just a year later?  I recognize people I haven't seen for a decade...and I didn't even profess undying love for them.  So, the question is...how dramatically did you change your hair?

#1. Here Comes Santa Claus: So let's give thanks to the Lord above / 'Cause Santa Claus comes tonight.  Again, I kind of lean to the right when I celebrate Christmas...so thanking God for Santa Claus - and not for the birth of Jesus - seems kind of selfish and icky to me.  I guess I should apologize if this seems a bit on the biting end of sarcastic.  It's only the past two years I've really been able to enjoy Christmas after years of bad memories associated with the holidays.  Still...some lyrics are almost as inane as what you hear in pop music.  Just something to think about.

As I'm listening to Christmas music, of course.  My husband is rewriting some of the lyrics for me: "Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, but the very next day, you returned it to K-Mart."

And he's cheery WITHOUT the addition of rum in his eggnog. 


Merry Christmas, everyone!

Pop Meltdown

The last time I mentioned music, I was lamenting the fact that so much of it encouraged immoral and thoughtless behavior.  Now, granted, not much has changed, but I am addressing a far more fundamental problem with pop music today, an issue that has nothing to do with ethics, religion or cultural values.  A concern that has made me question the sanity and clear-headedness of both the music industry and its voracious public.

The lyrics are bad.  And stupid.

I am wondering what happened to us as a society that lyrics like Rihanna's snarly-sweet "hold me like a pillow" gets rave reviews.  Really?  Honey, do you want me to smother you with drool and share my morning breath with you?  Do you want me to lazily flop you back on the bed when I am done with you?  And "I wanna make your bed for ya, then make you swallow your pride?"  What?  Will your next album be about Bad-Girl Domesticity?  Please, sing to me about how your want to dirty up the sheets then wash them for me.

I am not asking for poetry.  In fact, forget the poetry.  Just because it rhymes doesn't mean it makes sense.  Corny rhymes usually only work in musical theatre.  And even then...not always. 

I said that I didn't want to use my writing to discourage or judge.  I am just concerned because the music industry has become far too much like the food industry.  No matter what kind of junk you put in a can (or on a track), it is getting gobbled up, because it is what we have trained ourselves to accept.  The same way that many people choke down what's canned and stuck on grocery store shelves simply because they are convenient, we're devouring each new release from Ke$ha, Kanye West and, yes, even sweet-faced Justin Bieber, simply because they're available.

When I began to eat more unprocessed foods than I was used to, my taste buds resisted.  I had been taught, over the years, to crave salt and resist exotic flavors.  Canned ravioli was perfectly acceptable.  As I discovered new flavors and ingredients, I began to desire things like sweet basil, whole wheat pasta, and freshly grated black pepper.  The canned stuff was fine once in a while, but it wasn't my main source of nutrition.

I guess that is what I am trying to say about pop music.  Sometimes, it is fun.  I mean, I hate to admit it, but I do have a special place in my heart for some of Katy Perry's perky pop-rock tunes (and her super-cute style).  Personally, though, I am finding that I'm not "well-fed" when my ears are snacking on fakey-forced rhymes, electro-tweaked vocals, a million different metaphors for sex, and throbbing dance beats.  Maybe I'm alone, but I like the good old stuff.

Of course, the irony is, most of the good old stuff was mocked by the older generation, too.  Scandalous, they gasped when Elvis, fully dressed, wiggled his hips.  Then, their children were floored when Madonna showed up in her underwear.  Now, their grandchildren are shaking their heads as Lady Gaga is splashed across the magazines, andryognous, the free-love proclaiming "savior" of a tainted generation.

Maybe that means I am officially among the "old folks". 

Well, dagnabbit, that's fine with me.  You can keep your lollipop brassieres and clock-necked rappers.  I'll sit down with my chamomile tea and a little nibble of Motown.  Maybe a bite of some old-school jazz.

Delicious.

"The Rest Is Silence."

After I met and started dating Ross last year, something very strange happened. 

I stopped liking music.

Not all music. But a huge percentage of the music I used to love suddenly became dead to me. It wasn't a huge spiritual cleansing, a deep conviction, or anything along those lines, really. It was just that so much of the music on the radio - and so much in my own personal collection - no longer "applied" to me. I could no longer access the emotional strains of being lonely, hating an ex, being driven by lust, or unable to think straight because of romance.

My inability to connect with this kind of music was a gradual change. Even now, I still listen to it sometimes, but I am not moved by it anymore. Time was when that stuff would drive me to write, to draw, to connect to another part of myself, a deeper part that was aching for something more than what I had.

This isn't a case, exactly, of trying to fill the "God-shaped hole" we are all born with, but more a matter of trying to express feelings of frustration and loneliness by relating them to music. When those feelings - in relation to a romantic relationship - went away, so did my ability ro relate to that same music.

The irony of all this is how deeply I have always been connected to music. When he was younger, my father was the guitarist in a band (Yazoo Fraud, 1795; look it up). He sang me Beatles songs as lullabies (until I was 14, I believed that my dad was the one who wrote "Yellow Submarine"). My maternal grandfather was an phenomenal drummer who actually died of a heart attack while playing a concert. His ex-wife, my grandmother, played the accordian. My sister Gina and I grew up singing along with musical soundtracks: "Les Miserables", "Phantom of the Opera" and "Hello, Dolly!"   We must have sounded ridiculous to our parents; during the ensemble numbers, we would evenly divide all the parts and make sure we sang them all.  In character.  Loudly.  Sometimes with costumes.

Music has always helped with my writing and drawing. Even now, when I sit down to work on a play or skit, I find I need a soundtrack for it.  There are mixes I have for each kind of literary mood I'm in.  All of my characters have a theme song (the latest, a reluctant superhero named Five, has "Don't Call Me Baby" as hers.  You remember 1999, right?).  I envision scenes played out in front of me when I hear certain songs.  Maybe I am too connected to it.  I don't know.

I can tell you something, though...since I started listening primarily to K-Love (a national Christian music station), I have really lost interest in a lot of pop music.  It's not that I don't like the sound, or that I think the artists lack talent (well...some do).  I mean, I listen to classic rock, oldies, some pop.  But, overall, it's just that hearing Christian-raised Katy Perry singing about "going all the way" in a motel room with her "teenage dream" and listening to barely-old-enough-to-legally-drink Ke$ha talk about "brushing her teeth with a bottle of Jack" don't really inspire much of anything in me.  

Except disappointment.  

There is so much more to life than what pop icons sing about.  Maybe that's why I can't relate much anymore.  Because I have found Life, and His name is Jesus.