The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CXLV

Hey sport, you mind if I sit down next to you on this here couch and sing a couple'a Christmas songs for ya? 

Album Title:  Christmas Greetings From

Album Artist:  Jerry Vale

We can thank Radio Wasteland's Dollar Bin for this score, and I picked it up because while the name rung some bells, I didn't know anything about this guy. Based on the album sleeve, I anticipated some sort of Johnny Mathis-ish crooner from the '50s or '60s, so that right there would give one a rough idea of what you're about to immerse yourself in. Nevertheless, I'm a sucker for Christmas albums comprised of only one artist, because unlike compilations or the like, you can get a better idea of of their range over the span of several songs. So Jerry has a dozen or so songs to convince me he can deliver on a Christmas album.

Going into this album, I should reiterate that I didn't know anything about Jerry Vale at all. Upon dropping the needle on Side A, he's definitely a crooner in the same vein as Mathis, or Perry Como, etc. Unlike those two, however, Jerry sounds like a sitcom dad singing. Like, the dude's voice just sounds like it's wrapped in a sweater vest and khakis, and isn't above having a heartfelt conversation with you on a floral couch after finding a pack of cigarettes in your sock drawer.

The song choices found in this album's track-list are all safe picks, with no left-field inclusions to be found anywhere. No original Christmas jams, thank God (smart move, Jerry.) If I had to take a quiz and hand-pick songs that I'd expect a crooner like this to cover for his Christmas album, I probably would have guessed correctly about 3/4 of the songs on this track-list  (and C's get degrees, folks.)

The production, mix and arrangements are all top-notch for the era (again, guessing '50s or early '60s), which tracks because I imagine this guy was a big deal back in the day, and probably sold a butt-load of albums to the same circles that were devouring Mathis and Como's works. This gives the album a few points, putting it on par (sonically) with albums like those Great Songs of Christmas compilations - the backing music is in the same vein.

Honestly, this album is far from horrible, but Jerry doesn't give any memorable performances here. At. All. None of these songs are Holiday classics. Using Como as a comparison, we can site several of that guy's Christmas songs as Seasonal standards in media and popular culture, but Jerry - while competent enough - just comes across as 'someone else doing more of the same.' He sings just like all those other '50s and '60s crooners, the music's just about the same too (he was probably featured on several of those Great Songs of Christmas compilations, come to think of it), but it just doesn't connect. 

It might be the tone of his voice, it's too 'nice' and almost gives the impression that this dude's idea of 'cutting loose' involves a nice slice of pie instead of a bourbon, neat.

If Perry Como is Jonathan Stamos on Full House, then Jerry Vale is Bob Saget. They're both male, father figures to the same girls, sure enough, but one of them has charisma in spades (hence you being able to identify several of Como's Christmas songs on the radio), while the other is incredibly disappointed he found your cigarettes. 

Not mad, just disappointed.

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll (Another collection of '50s/'60s crooner-music, Christmas-style, this time from a guy who would probably refer to you as 'sport' in conversation.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CXLIV

Happy Snow Day, America (well, at least Central Michigan - we got dumped on today). . . 

Album Title:  Songs for the Holidays

Album Artist:  The London Symphony Orchestra, with Peter Hoffman and Deborah Sasson

Another dollar album picked up at Radio Wasteland, this one didn't feature any absurd album artwork to make fun of. No promise of 'Bells and Chimes,' or a tacky, borderline-creepy 'Children's Christmas Album,' or a steaming turd offered up by the likes of Roger Whitaker, Kate Smith, or Mantovani. Nope, this one had a super boring album cover, which didn't appeal to me in the slightest - I grabbed it because I haven't listened to it and hell, that's what we're all here for.

The opening track on this album was like two firm slaps across the face, back-to-back. First came a well-mixed, orchestral version of 'Sleigh Ride,' like a really good orchestral version of this. Stunned, I grabbed the album sleeve and looked at the liner notes, and - lo and behold - we have THE London Symphony Orchestra. Yes, that orchestra - one of the best in the world. Responsible for Star Wars and a slew of other classic recordings. How the hell did they pull this orchestra for this random album?

Well, the second part of Side A Track 1 is 'Silver Bells,' and the orchestra switches to 'background music mode' to focus on the 'vocal prowess' of Tennessee Ernie Ford-in-training 'tenor' (tenor is a stretch, he's much lower than any tenor I've heard) Peter Hoffman and his side piece, 'soprano' Deborah Sasson. The lady warbles along as many sub-par sopranos do, but the dude is trying so hard to be dramatic that it's hard to listen to this without pissing yourself laughing. 

I'm dumbfounded who arranged these songs. If you have the London Symphony Orchestra on your payroll, why would you hamstring them into tearing up the joint one minute, only to have them backseat to play second fiddle (literally) to two B-listers? That's like booking the Rolling Stones for a private event and having them do song requests from a group of six-year-old special needs kids.

Could Keith Richards improvise a bad-ass guitar riff for 'Baby Shark'? Almost certainly, but who the hell wants to hear that?

The following songs get similar treatment. The orchestra swells and introduces each track, which are all divided into multi-song medleys, then the vocalists take over for the second half. There's a backing chorus here as well (and they match nicely with the orchestra), but alas they're not much help. Nothing can distract the listener from the over-the-top singing from the lead duo on this album (though their ca. 1987 matching, permed mullets on the album's back cover just about do the trick.)

As the album progresses, Pete's operatic bellowing and Deb's accompanying over-use of vibrato gets exhausting. Not every Christmas song needs to make the rafters shake, guys - that gets tedious real fast. 'O Holy Night' might as well have been written by Italian composer Rossini, (think 'Marriage of Figgaro') it's that over-the-top. Listening to this I'm convinced that this Peter Hoffman guy has a giant, oil painting of himself hanging in his living room above a fireplace. With like him shirtless and looking like Fabio, with a white tiger lying at his feet.

Eat your heart out, ladies. He's clearly a big deal.

Hallmark promises 'festive music fare to brighten your home for the holidays,' and you can tell they had the budget on this album to deliver said promise, but squandered it with focusing on these asinine, leading vocals. Had they just kept the chorus singing along with The London Symphony Orchestra, this had the promise of being a solid '6' or even a '7' (yes, the musical arrangements here are that good, sounding almost like the score from The Muppet Christmas Carol.) The backing chorus/choir/whatever sounds decent, too. Hell, even swap out Pete and Debbie for a couple A-list singers with some frickin' name recognition. God knows if you can afford hiring the L.S.O. as your backing band, you could probably make something work there.

But no. Hallmark, doubles down on two nobodies who, sure, know how to sing, but also don't know how to sing.

Also, based on the photograph of these two on the backside of the album cover, I'm 100% convinced these two are bumping uglies. I'd stake my life on it.

VERDICT:  4/10 - Borophyll (A tiring, Holiday affair that had the makings of a half-way decent, orchestral Christmas recording, but tripped and fell flat on its face right out of the gate. Nobody puts the London Symphony Orchestra in the corner.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CXLIII

Hey, gang - we got any Slovaks (Slovish?) in the house tonight? 

Album Title:  Cas Radosti

Album Artist:  The Slovak Heritage Society Festival Choir and Ensemble

This one couldn't have been passed up. A Slovak Christmas album? I'm pretty sure that's the one that's the John Oates to Czech Republic's Daryl Hall, right? Central/Eastern Europe-ish? Somewhere in there?

Well, for a buck who cares, I was gonna give it a go.

The album cover is pretty lame. Someone hired a 10th grade art student to grab their finest assortment of Crayola markers (the skinny ones, not the fat ones) and draw a picture of a bunch of Slovaks trying to set the inside of a barn on fire. There's some wet laundry hanging on a line, multiple discarded buckets and pots, and inexplicably some special needs boy with a ca. 2011 Justin Bieber haircut, balancing on a wooden beam.

Not entirely sure what's going on here, but I think whoever drew this needs to pursue other avenues of employment.

The back side of the album jacket is much better, however - we actually get some information about this cryptic recording. As it turns out, 'Cas Radosti' translates to 'A Time of Joy.' Makes sense, it's Christmas. Further, this album was recorded in 1983 in Barre, Pennsylvania by The Slovak Heritage Society Festival Choir and Ensemble. . . which, if I'm reading this correctly, is like some kind of parish choir that performs in this predominantly Slovak community in. . . Pennsylvania. 

The Ladies Pennsylvania Slovak Catholic Union (yes, they must have enough Slovaks, Catholics, and Catholic Slovaks in Pennsylvania to necessitate the creation of a Slovak Catholic Union) were nice enough to produce this recording for everyone in their diocese. . . or parish, or whatever you call that, how the Catholics divide up their church territory. It kinda sounds like Pennsylvania has a kind of Dearborn, Michigan thing going on, except down in Dearborn they're mostly Chaldean, not Slovak-ish.

Anyway, Side A opens up with bellowing, Communist fanfare - lots of brass and Slovaks (and Slovakettes) singing with gusto. You can practically see the olive drab-sporting civilians saluting the Slovak soldiers as they goose-step by on their way to lighting the People's Republic Tree of Christmas. This opening track isn't long, and up next the mood does a complete 180: the next number is more or less a handful of guys standing up at the front of a church, reading some kinda congregational Call to Worship (they speak in Slovaki first, then switch to English so us normies can understand what's going on.) Then the congregation responds, and soon the whole place breaks out in song (to be continued for several tracks, which, honestly, all basically sound the same - God knows what they're singing about, I didn't read the entirety of the liner notes.)

I think this might be a live recording, actually: quality here is decent for a cathedral recording, because based on the depth of the vocal audio (the echo, the reverb) you can tell they had the mics set up far back from the choir, and the acoustics of the cathedral amplify the choir's volume. At first I thought the congregation itself might be singing the songs, but they stop just proficiently enough to allow soloists or an instrument take center stage, and there's no way in hell hundreds of people would be able to do that.

The accompanying musicians vary considerably, and for the most part they fade into the background and let the singers take center stage (which is the right move for an album like this which is clearly attempting to showcase Slovak singers doing Christmas shit their native tongues.) They even have frickin' bagpipes on here, and that blows my mind because I didn't realize the Slovaks had bagpipes, I thought that was limited to the British Isles. Sadly, the bagpipes here don't have the clout and majesty of their Irish and Scottish cousins, and instead like a gaggle of half-starved cats being slowly skinned alive over a trash barrel fire by a couple of homeless Slovaks.

I could keep going with this album, but I don't think I need to: this is a live recording of a Slovak choir singing. . . Christmas songs?. . . in a large church of some kind. In Bumblef***, Pennsylvania. Can they sing? Yup. Are the arrangements good? Yup. How about the mix and recording quality? Good, sure.

So is this a decent record?

Not unless your Slovak. If you are, I bet this album hits HARD. For the rest of us, this is a competently done album with decent church music, but it's still a religious choir album. I appreciate cultural diversity as much as anybody, but I feel like this album would have been better had it worked some traditional Slovak tunes and instruments into the music (why do they have bagpipes?) As it stands, this sounds like a giant cathedral choir recording a church service.

. . . just, you know, in Slovakish.

VERDICT:  5/10 - Meh  (It's like going to church in Eastern Europe. It might look super cool inside the centuries-old cathedral, but, at the end of the day, you're still stuck in a boring church service.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CXLII

Bring forth your children, America. Bring forth your children and let them partake in this Holiday musical offering . . 

Album Title:  All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth & Festive Favorites for Children

Album Artist:  Santa's Helpers

This kid on this album cover scares the living shit out of me.

Why would the label execs pull the trigger on having some cross-eyed kid with messed up teeth grace the cover of their Christmas album? Were they trying to be whimsical or something? Don't they know how weird this kid looks? There is nothing whimsical about a child who can only see his nose and can't afford braces, folks. This time of year is for festivity and merriment, not revulsion and horror; this child needs to be put back into his cage in the basement and washed down with a garden hose.

Anyway, this was another Dollar Bin score from Radio Wasteland, and one look at that little urchin on the album cover should tell you why I picked this up in the first place. Children's albums are almost always disasters, unless a.) they have a larger budget and a solid production team, b.) the track list is age-appropriate, fitting for the Holidays, and arranged halfway decent, and c.) the 'talent' on the album is used appropriately. Seeing the album cover in the record store a few years ago, I had little expectations that Santa's Helpers (the artists who put out this album, probably not affiliated with Santa at all - frickin' posers) were up to the task.

Side A opens with the title song, and it's got more accordion than a Goddamn polka festival, cranked up to '11', with only a walking stand-up bass for company. The ridiculous instrumentation is actually the best thing about this one, though, because the singing is f***ing terrifying. It sounds like an adult recorded this album in a broom closet while doing their very best to impersonate a small child singing. The trademark fake lisp associated with this song isn't cute or funny in this version, because you know it's an ADULT and not a child singing.

A rip-off of Dave Seville's Chipmunks follows, with much of Side A compromising a slew of Holiday songs sung in that obnoxious, high-pitched Chipmunk singing. However it is beyond obvious that these aren't the real Chipmunks, folks - these are cheesy knock-offs. The creepy dude who was acting like a child with a speech impediment in the last track stumbled from his hiding spot in the broom closet and has his vocals sped up to 45 rpm (or 78 rpm, whichever one they use for that 'Chipmunk' singing.) He's accompanied by some random dude who sounds like he's been drinking since 9am, because, you know, he's going through some serious shit at home and doesn't want to talk about it.

The first installment in this Go-Bots Chipmunk nonsense is 'Jingle Bells,' which is meh - these two weirdos don't make good Chipmunks at all - followed by 'Deck the Halls.' Between every song on this album, a mysterious entity with a booming, low voice starts to talk to the 'Chipmunks,' but the mix is so bad on this frickin' album that you can barely understand what he's saying. This malevolent force sounds like Durin's Bane crawling out of the depths under Khazad-dum, and is by no means anything you'd remotely want on a children's Christmas album. Jesus H. Christ.

 

As bad as that sounds, it gets worse. At least the previous two songs are secular Holiday selections. The next two numbers introduced (I'm guessing introduced, I can't understand the black speech of whatever the hell this thing is that speaks between tracks), are - and I kid you not - 'Joy to the World' and 'Silent Night.' Folks, I'm going to break this down for you real quick: Chipmunks should not exist in the same universe as Christianity. They exist in kids' movies and TV shows, sure, but nowhere in any of these mediums is religion referenced at all. . . and I assume this is because by having Chipmunks and a higher power in the same plane of existence would mean that some kind of deity exists that sanctioned the creation of these f***ing Chipmunks.

Just imagine the same god that signed off on the whole Jesus thing - the miracle of his birth, his teachings, his sacrifice and resurrection, the whole nine yards - just so happens to be the same, exact god that one day went, 2000 years later,"You know what this world of mine needs? Three, singing Chipmunks. Three - and later six - singing Chipmunks who will record multiple albums, launch multiple TV reboots and movies, and do so without having the decency of wearing pants. And they'll be able to speak English and will be roughly the same size as midgets."

So yeah, having Chipmunks singing songs praising aforementioned deity is a little creepy for laid-back, Holiday listening.

"The Night Before Christmas," which is basically some of these 'Santa's Helpers' sing-reciting the famous poem to some random music. It's not awesome by any measure, but it's the first time since dropping the needle on this album that I've heard a halfway respectable Children's Christmas song.

Half of Side B is taken up by a 'dramatic telling' of Dickens' A Christmas Carol (think of like the dramas people used to listen to on the radio back in the 1940's, with like voice actors and sound effects and whatever.) Again, this is done with some competency, at least compared to the opposite side of the record, with the Go-Bot Chipmunks shittiness, but its a very shortened version of the classic story, and is over in a matter of minutes.

Then it's time for a children's choir, who shuffle in fresh on the heels of Story Time, for 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen,' 'Twelve Days of Christmas' and 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas.' They're accompanied by a sad, dying church organ, which sounds like the musical version of the sad, dying woman who's playing it. Like, I get it, this is a Children's Christmas Album, you've got little kids singing and everything, but for THE LOVE OF GOD - you're trying to get kids into the spirit of Christmas, you really wanna traumatize them with this agonizing church organ? Remind them of sitting bored in church with their parents and grandparents, when they could be running around their segregated, 1960s neighborhood, playing stick-and-hoop or kick-the-can or whatever the hell it was kids did back then? Nobody around here owns an electric guitar or a trumpet or something? 

F***, I'd even settle for that weird accordion we heard on the title track at this point.

VERDICT:  2/10 - Reality TV (A train wreck of a Children's Christmas Album, but a couple not-terrible tracks save it from being the worst Children's Christmas Album I've ever heard.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

The Great Christmas Record Odyssey, Ep. CXLI

Alright music lovers, time for another frightening dive into the nether regions of Holiday musicalness. . .

Album Title:  Songs for All Seasons

Album Artist:  Angelus Choir, Directed by Naomi Stucki

I've reviewed a lot of Christmas albums over the years with choirs, but I don't think I've ever reviewed one this low budget before.

This lil' beauty was picked up from Radio Wasteland a couple years ago (from the Dollar Bin, obviously), and its selection was based solely on the fact that something this ridiculous-looking - and obviously low-budget - would have to be pretty fun to listen to.

It did not disappoint.

I often remark about 'production value' in these Christmas Records posts, how some albums seem to have a lot of money behind them judging by the quality of the mix, the arrangements, vocal levels/clarity, etc. Other times albums appear to be mixed by a brace of crackheads who have broken into a basement in order to steal copper wiring to fund their next fix, only to find a crappy, DIY recording studio on the other side of a beat-up washer and dryer.

There's zero 'production value' to speak of on this album. This album sounds as if someone brought out a cassette recorder, hit 'record', and let a room full of young girls give it the ol' college try for a half an hour or so.

Basically how I recorded all my college band albums back in the early 2000s. Except replace 'teenage girls' with 'drunk guys in their early 20s with delusions of grandeur.'

Anyway, here's what we got: there's a woman behind a church organ, but not one of those giant, brass-piped mamma jammas that shake the stone walls of a cathedral. Nay, this is one of those wood-paneled jobs that every congregation across the United States has (almost always manned by some 90-year-old woman whose sole, remaining purpose in life is to man said instrument.) In fact, this maybe one of those instances where we can 100% judge an album by it's cover, folks - this is exactly what this album sounds like.

They bring in like twenty or so teenage girls, have them crowd around the old crone and her organ (and sometimes she's got it set to 'piano'), and have them sing a selection of church music. Based on the audio, I'd wager that the audio is being picked up from a solitary microphone suspended from the ceiling, right above the organ. The vocals drown out the organ whenever the gals start belting it out, and I'd make a joke here about 'yOu'D tHiNk ThEsE gUyS wOuLd SpRiNg FoR aNoThEr MiCrOpHoNe,' or something, but based on the fact that the rear side of this album sleeve is BLANK (see image at right), I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that money is an issue.

Which makes sense when you realize that this First Congregational Church, located in my old college stomping ground of Kalamazoo, Michigan, is no longer a church and is now some local library or something. If only they would have sold more of these stellar choir albums, maybe they wouldn't have had to close down, who knows.

So can the ladies sing on this album? Uh, I guess - they sound like a high school choir singing, honestly. Probably better than I could sing, but like, who cares? 

I guess I'm struggling with the whole purpose of this album, you know? Who's the target audience, these kids' parents? Folks who attend (well, used to attend) this church? If the First Congregational gang ended up shutting down, was this recording why? Did this fool-hardy project bankrupt them? I can't imagine pressing vinyl was super cheap back in the day, and they clearly didn't have a giant budget to begin with (see: no rear sleeve art, only one microphone, etc.) Was this a wise move, recording this in the first place? Couldn't these kids' parents just listen to them sing in church and call it good? Why waste the money?

Anyway, back to the music, sorry. About 80% of the music on this album doesn't even qualify as Christmas music. It's mostly church music, so the fact they titled this venture 'Songs for All Seasons' is kinda shitty. Yes, technically you're right - you can listen to church music all season long. But who's going to throw this album on in the middle of May with a few Christmas songs on it? I love me some Christmas music, but even I cringe whenever I hear Holiday jams outside of the mid-November to New Years Eve window. 

In summary, this album is a choir of teenage girls singing along with an organ, poorly recorded, with a track list that could hardly be considered a Christmas album at all. The singing isn't terrible, per se, it's just a bunch of teenage girls singing along to church music. . . so, if that's your thing you might actually like this (though that's a bit pedo-ish of you, not gonna lie.) Personally, as I listen to it I find myself not being impressed or entertained at all. If anything, I want to learn more about these girls' identities and what ever happened to them. Did any of them ever go on to record further music? Do they work at the library now? So many questions. . .

VERDICT:  3/10 - Seriously? (A gaggle of teenage girls from Kalamazoo poorly record an album that hardly qualifies as a Christmas music, bankrupt their church, then. . . I don't know, probably go on to make further poor decisions later in life.)

- SHELVED -

- Brian

The Worst Month in Hough Family History

Well, this was a crappy month. 

I know many couples go through a 'rough patch' in their marriage. Maybe they need couples counseling, or some other sort of therapy or whatever, but Kris and I have never had anything like that. Not trying to brag or anything, we've just always been good (probably because we're both so laid back and low-maintenance that not a whole hell of a lot bothers us.) The same could be said for our kids as well: aside from a problematic marking period here and there, when we have to push the kids harder than usual in order for them to get their usual Honor Roll-level grades, we as a family haven't ever had major calamities to deal with.

Until this month.

The first week of the month passed by uneventful - we cleaned up and put away all of our Halloween decor the day after the Johnson's annual Halloween party, and were all primed to break out the Christmas decor in preparation for the Holiday Pre-Season (those few weeks before Thanksgiving where it's more or less Christmas but you're somewhat held in check by societal norms.)

Then the second week hit, and Yours Truly was blindsided by a nasty flu. I started getting sick at work on Monday, and was forced to take Tuesday (Veteran's Day) off of work. Not being one who likes taking multiple days off of work, I toughed it out all day Wednesday, and it about killed me. I rallied Thursday morning and made it to about lunch when I realized I had screwed up and had to head home, but was fortunately able to tough it out (again) on Friday. I was still sick, though, and spent most of the weekend sick.

That same weekend, a close friend of mine was diagnosed with Stage-4 Cancer and I spent what time I could in the Midland hospital with him and his wife.  So I obviously wasn't in the greatest head space going into the following week, which just so happened to entail the biggest, most stressful lesson plan of my entire school year: a student recreation of the Constitutional Convention. This is a massive undertaking, assigning students historical delegates that they would be assuming for the week, teaching them the various talking points and issues that they would be voting on, and setting everything up. A lot of prep goes into it, and a lot depends on how well the kids can debate the information, but this year went better than it has the previous three years. It's exhausting, but really drives home the standards associated with the Constitution and kids learn a lot, so in the end it's worth it.

Watson's head was up like this most of the night before he passed. 

While I was preoccupied with that, and still getting over that nasty flu, we were blindsided by the sudden death of our oldest dog, Watson. The morning of Thursday, November 20th, he wasn't eating and was breathing weird, keeping his neck extended and refusing to sit or lie down. I sat with him for a bit before I left for work, petting him and calming him down, but he wouldn't take his meds. Still, when I left he was wagging his tail and I assumed his cough was just bothering him.

A half hour later, after Kris and Abby had left for work and school, Alayna called me as I was pulling into my school's parking lot. She said he had thrown up some red, and was breathing heavy and lying down rigid on the floor. I told her to keep an eye on him and make sure he's comfortable, and to call me if anything changed. Not ten minutes later, as I was sitting down at my desk at work, she called me back crying saying that he had stopped breathing and his heart wasn't beating. I had her call Kris at work, and he was able to come home and verify that the dog had passed. They picked up Abby from school and took Watson to the vet, where they ran some tests and double-checked to make sure he had passed. Kris signed off on the cremation process and the three of them sat in a back room with him for awhile before coming home and taking the rest of the day off.

While his death was sudden, we were all very grateful that it happened quickly, and at home. He didn't suffer at all, he had Alayna with him in his final moments, and Samson was able to see what had happened (our concern with putting Watson down eventually was us just taking him out of the house one day and Samson never knowing what happened to him, that he was just gone somewhere else or whatever.) We know that Samson's aware of what happened because, at the time of writing this, the dog is still super depressed and spending most of his time lying on folks' beds and taking space from the rest of the family. 

Folks are okay around here, but losing their childhood dog of twelve years was brutal on the girls (especially Alayna, who as closest - besides me - to the dog, and was with him at the end and saw it all happen), as well as on Kris and I. We got his ashes back and will be displaying it on a shelf in the Study once all the Holiday stuff is put away in January. So now that we're through the Pre-Season of the Holidays and entering full-blown Christmas Mode, we're hoping that the festiveness of the Season kinda raises everybody out of their slumps.

Anyway, here's the rest of November, folks - enjoy. . .

At the beginning of the month, Abby and the Midland Varsity Pom Team spent their post-Halloween weekend gearing up for Sunday's big High Kick competition in Flint.

Abby takes after her old man with her day-to-day documentation, that's for damn sure.

Abby's a frickin' ninja.

Saturday evening, after practice, the team spent the rest of the evening in 'team bonding' mode, starting with a team dinner out. . . somewhere (these are all off Abby's phone, I have no idea.)

Abby and Brooklyn, post-dinner, riding to some teammate's house.

Alayna and Sebastian, hanging out somewhere around the same time.

Abby (second from right) and some of her teammates, hanging out at some chick's house.

My end-of-the-month wrap-up from Amazon Music. Abby messed with my algorithm a bit, because I rarely listen to The Beatles and Bob Dylan isn't anywhere near the top of my list.

Kris and Courtney took the girls shopping up at Marshall's one evening, after school, and one of the girls got this super-flattering pic of Kris in the process.

Our maple trees started dumping their leaves the first week of the month (finally), this year about the same time as the giant oak in the backyard. Still have at least one, major leaf clean up in the coming weeks, as there's still obviously a lot of leaves in the trees.

Our good buddy Matt from high school was flying in from San Francisco into Clare the first weekend of the month (he always spends a couple weeks back in Michigan for rifle season so he can hunt with his dad and cousins), so we rallied the old high school crew together in order to hang out with him. Trevor's house was the obvious choice, and Sean and his daughter drove up from Detroit as well (the others couldn't make it.) I brought along a few beers that had been in my fridge for a few years, as I've been tempting to cycle them out faster before they spoil. This one I picked up around St. Patrick's Day like five or six years ago - it was decent.

Matt, Sean, and Trevor, hanging out in Trevor's kitchen.

Meanwhile, back in Midland, Alayna and Sebastian were hanging out with Kris and Abby at the house (and inexplicably wearing matching pajamas pants as well.)

After having a few drinks and hanging out at Trevor's for awhile, we started to get antsy and decided to wander next door to his dead grandma's house (which Trevor inherited.) He and his family only use it as storage these days - such as this permanent 'garage sale' setup they have going in the garage - and it basically sits abandoned and unused. We decided to go over there and explore it (Trevor hadn't been over there in months, and none of the rest of us had been over there in like twenty years.)

After poking around the garage sale items for a bit, we made our way inside. All the lights were off, but the house still has electricity because Trevor uses the garage/workshop building out back regularly, and it's wired from the house. We made our way inside and found this creepy-ass, My Buddy doll (from the 80's) quietly sitting in a chair. This is straight-up nightmare fuel.

The downstairs bedroom and bathroom (where Trevor's grandma died years ago and no one's lived in since.) 100% this place is haunted.

The upstairs level is just this bedroom, which looks like some kinda crackhead den. When Trevor temporarily moved out of his dad's house into this house with his grandma, from like 1999-2001, he lived up here. . . but now it's dilapidated. Birds got in through the roof and the wallpaper, and have made a mess of things.

A dead bird on the carpet, who probably flew in through the hole and then couldn't figure its way back out. Come summer time that room is gonna smell like pure shit.

Back downstairs, we turned on a few lights to get a better look of things. We told Trevor if he sank like $2000 into this place, for fixing up holes like the one in the previous picture, redoing the walls, steam-cleaning here and there, getting the carpets professionally cleaned, etc., this house would be a solid rental unit. It's just sitting here unused, and is in really good shape, he should totally pounce on this source of passive income.

Here's this creepy Santa/Christmas elf figurine standing among discarded glassware on a buffet table.  

We left the house and walked out back towards Trevor's dad's old garage/workshop (his dad used to be a mechanic back in the 80's and 90's, and all of his stuff is still sitting around unused for the most part.)

Again, we told Trevor that if he de-cluttered this space, cleaned it up a bit, and added some insulation and what-not, he'd have a pretty bad-ass man cave area. It's already wired for electricity and everything, just needs a TV and a fridge.

I'm sure most of this stuff isn't worth saving, honestly.

Nuts and bolts from the 70's and 80's (I assume.)

This 8-track player still works well (yes, of course I tested it.)

There's a bunch of mechanic's manuals for various motorcycles and cars dating back to the mid-70's here. Again, not sure why he's still holding on to any of this.

Another St. Patty's beer pulled from the back of my fridge (again, pretty decent.)

Eventually we made it back to Trevor's house, and Sean and his daughter ended up taking off shortly thereafter. Matt left after an additional hour or so, and eventually it was just me, Trevor and his wife, Sara hanging out. By the end of the night, we were singing karaoke in the living room while their kids were trying to sleep in the next room. Good times.

The next day, Yours Truly returned to Midland and I set to work raking up all the leaves in the back and front yards. Took me about three or four hours, but I got everything off the ground and out to the curb. 

This mountain of leaves dwarfed all of our street's piles. By a lot.

Kris and Alayna, taking a selfie (for some reason.)

Alayna posted this weird pic, of herself practicing her violin for an upcoming concert, to her SnapChat (I assume.)

The first snowfall of the year (though it was little more than dusting, to be honest) happened to coincide with the very same morning I decided to break out all of our Christmas crap and decorate the house for the Holidays. I took it as a good omen.

While I was at home getting the house ready for the Holidays, Kris and the girls (along with Courtney and Ella) packed some ready-to-cook meals for the poor and needy at the First United Methodist Church downtown (the church Kris goes to these days.)

That afternoon, Kris and the girls, along with the Larson and Griffin womenfolk, attended some self-defense class where they taught women how to defend themselves against attackers. It was like two or three hours long, and they taught them how to break away from holds, hit attackers in critical spots, etc. I look forward to my roommates using this newly-found information against me.

Some of my Christmas beer that I've collected for this Holiday Season - definitely looking forward to breaking this out this soon. 

A 0.5x shot of Watson, the old man, courtesy of the Cannonball.

A shot of Abby and her pom team (not sure where or when this was taken, though.)

Around the same time that I was stuck in bed with the flu, Abby and her team held their annual Pom Banquet at the high school. Kris was able to go, and managed to get the following pictures (this one of Abby accepting one of her team awards for the season.)

The MHS Varsity Pom Team

She won the Outstanding Kicks award this year, and got her Varsity Letter for her season on the team.

Abby and Brooklyn, posing with their new Varsity Letters.

And one with Riley.

A solo one in front of the school emblem.

Ella and the JV pom team were also holding their team banquet at the same time, so obviously these two had to get a few pics together. . .

This one's Sophie (I think.)

Abby and her coaches this year.

Found this one on Abby's phone. Looks like Abby and Ella put their feet on their teacher's classroom whiteboard and traced their frickin' feet. Oh well, at least she gets straight A's.

I finally came back to my classroom after being out sick, only to find that my coworkers had taped up my door and marked it 'contaminated.' I kept this up for the remainder of the month.

Abby at pom practice later that week.

Watson, hanging out with Alayna in their room. He's become a big fan of that bed of hers.

Kris' favorite thing to do is hang out in the basement watching movies on our projector, and the dogs frequently join her. . . .

Erik texted our group thread this pic of him watching TV and having a drink up at his family's deer hunting property cabin in the Upper Peninsula, later on that week.

So Mitch responded with a similar picture of what he was up to at that very moment, drinking wine and watching hockey.

Yours Truly, meanwhile, was sick as a dog and hanging out in bed playing video games with Samson (and no drink.)

Alayna took this pic of Watson on her bed (he rarely sleeps in his anymore.)

Abby and Ella went to some Dow football game halfway through the month, which was weird 'cause Midland High hasn't played a game in weeks. Dow did better this season, though, so this was like that post-season thingy football sometimes does. Ella is dating some football player from Dow now, so that was the main reason these two went to the game. I have no idea who this Dow pommer is posing with Abby, I just took this image off her phone.

Alayna told us she needed new shoes for work one evening, during her shift. When we asked her why, she sent us this picture as a response. We placed that order immediately - this is how people slip and break their necks at work.

Abby and Ella have participated in their school's Model UN Club this year, and the third Saturday of the month they had a competition downstate. . . somewhere. Ella must have taken this pic of Abby on the morning drive down.

Abby, Ella, and some kids from other schools they met at the competition.

This group of five girls served as a 'committee' for the legislation they were trying to push through the UN (I think they were able to do so.)

Abby's lunch and meeting notes. Viva Italia.

Abby posing with some Mongolian chick.

These two of course had to take a couple pictures as well. . .

A couple group pics of all the kids participating in the Model UN (again, no idea what school this was all at.) 

Meanwhile, back at home, Kris, Alayna and the dogs were downstairs in the basement watching movies. (their weekend go-to whenever they don't have other plans.)

The next day, Alayna had a shift at Taco Bell, which means taking pictures with co-workers (something we didn't do at Wendy's back in the 90's.)

Sebastian popped in at one point to visit her for a bit, so, you know, you gotta get a pic of that as well. . .

View of the sunset from the drive-thru window she usually works during her shift.

Abby, Ella and Juliana, doing some dance crap for Tik Tok. . .

(I'm so glad this social media didn't exist during my teenage years.)

The following Tuesday at work, we had a staff meeting in my building, before school started. After the meeting's business was all taken care of, my boss - who enjoys lightening up the mood during these required staff functions - held a music trivia game. He's done this before at our previous buildings, and I've won both times. This time, the game was based on old TV theme songs from 70's - present, and, once again, I ended up defeating all of my co-workers. He always gives out some kinda prize at the end for the person who scores the highest (a.k.a. me), and this year the prize was an entire Thanksgiving meal. Seriously. I had to keep it in my classroom the rest of the day until I went home, so you can imagine how much fun it was for me answering students' questions about the turkey ALL DAMN DAY.

Another day, another Tik Tok video. . .

Kris and Abby, later that evening.

Every year around this time, I teach my students about the Constitution. In order to get them to really understand the issues debated at the Constitutional Convention, we role play the entirety of it, where I set my room up how the convention actually looked, assign each kid a historical delegate who was actually there, and then let them yell and scream at each other while debating the issues (representation, counting slaves towards a state's population, electing the executive of the government, etc.) Kids have a lot of fun with it, and it really helps them learn a lot, but it's a total pain in the ass. The amount of front-load work that you have to do order to pull it off is staggering, it's by far the most stressful activity I do throughout the year. Still, looks pretty cool when it's finished.

Alayna and Sophie, working on school work at home.

Abby had to arm-wrestle some other kid in the class. . . for some reason. Had to to with some kind of trivia tie-breaker or something. Still thinking this is one of those things that if somebody complained to their parents, this teacher could be fired for something like this. I sure as hell wouldn't do it.

To the victor goes the spoils.

Abby was invited out to Olive Garden with the Johnsons one night (which happens often, since Ella doesn't have siblings.)

While Abby was away at dinner with the Johnsons, Kris and I were at home, listening to Christmas vinyl in the Study. This was the night before Watson passed, and the entire night he was acting like he was asleep, but with his head fully erect. At the time we didn't think anything of it.

The next morning, Ella picked Abby up as normal and they drove to school, where they took this beautiful picture (for some reason.)

As previously discussed, Kris and I left the house after Abby did, and Alayna stayed at home (as usual, seeing how she doesn't have to go to school until like noon-ish on weekdays.) After the first phone call I received from Alayna, as I was pulling into my school parking lot and she was saying that the dog had thrown up a little red), I went into my building and used the boys' restroom, where I found some new graffiti on one of the urinals.

You know what happened next (I spelled it out earlier), but later that night the girls made their obligatory social media posts in memoriam (this is one of Abby's.)

The Johnsons caught wind of what had happened and dropped off Panera for us, which was super nice of them. We clearly weren't in the mood to cook for ourselves.

A few days later, Abby and the MHS Varsity Pom Team had to march in the annual Santa Parade. We told Abby she didn't have to do it if she wasn't feeling up for it, but she insisted she was fine. Here's her and Brooklyn on the bus from the school over to their starting point outside of Kroger on Ashman.

In the parking lot of Kris' office, which right across the street from Kroger, and where we always end up parking for this parade. The team rallied here for a team picture, then joined the Midland High Marching Band in the side street.

The parade starts on Eastlawn, in front of Midland High, but each year the city's two high school's alternate who starts marching at the high school and who starts at the parade's halfway point (right here.) This year Dow High was tackling the first half of the parade, and Midland High the second.

The pommers, ready to head out.

About the best pic we got of her before the parade started.

Starting off along the parade route. . .

They passed us by in a matter of seconds, and then we had to stand around for like an additional hour or so.

Some random pirate ship float that makes an appearance every year.

The Loons

The legendary Grimace (I didn't know he was a thing anywhere, I thought he died in the '80s.) By like 11:30am, we still hadn't seen Santa yet but Kris and I had to leave: Abby had a cello workshop in Rockford (down by Grand Rapids) that was starting at 1pm, and we still had to get her from the end of the parade, pick up Watson's ashes, and hit the road. We were gonna be running late.

Abby, Ella and Abigail C. (who had both just tried out for and won a spot on the Varsity team), and that one chick whose name I think is Sophie.

We got Abby to her cello workshop at Rockford High School about an hour late, but the instructor was aware that she would be late and was fine with it. My best friend, BP, lives about three minutes away from the high school, so while Abby was gone to that cello thing Kris and I drove over to his house and hung out with him and his fam for a few few hours until Abby was done at like 5pm. Then we all carvaanned over to this new Mexican place that had just opened up (and was REALLY good), called Acapulco. After dinner, we said our goodbyes and drove the two hours back up north to Midland - thoroughly exhausted after a long-ass day.

Alayna set up Watson's ashes, collar, and favorite toy, St. Pickolas (from Bark Box) on a shelf in the Study for the time being. We're going to design something a little nicer for him after the Holidays - I want to get a small metal plate engraved at my local engraving place, Wellington's (where Erik and I get all of our Yeti's engraved ) and affix it to the top of the box (or the front, not sure.) 

Alayna, Lexi, Tina, and someone else at school one day before Thanksgiving Break started.

After school, Kris took the girls out shopping for our annual charity run (we always adopt a family during the Holidays.)

I, meanwhile, ran over to Mitch's house to pick up a snowblower (finally bit the bullet, folks.) The entire time we were out in the driveway playing around with it, his two dogs were watching us from the dining room window like a couple of hawks.

Our first major snow fall of the year fell shortly afterwards, so I was damn happy I had finally pulled the trigger on a snowblower - we got like five inches or so overnight.

Thus concludes probably the shittiest month we've all dealt with as a family, ever. Now we get to try and rally, and attempt to quasi-merrily bring in the official Holiday Season. See ya next time. . .

- Brian